Asthenia

Setting: Someone's kitchen/living room.

I was among thieves but one was not like the others... There was a wild card on the team. The responsibility of taking him out was put on my shoulders. I knew this guy had a gun in one of his bags. I grab the gun and point it at the rogue sitting on the couch with his arms resting on the top. He stares me in the eye as I pull the trigger and hear a small disappointing click. I am a little panicked, this chump I was trying to shoot didn't bat an eye. He was calm as ever. I saw his eyes roll as he reached into his belt pulled out his secondary (that none of us knew of) and slowly and professional-like began loading it. I ran back to his bag and fumbled around with the pack of bullets. My hands were shaky and it felt like forever passed before I finally had the gun loaded and clicked back in position. I had never used a gun before. I had been crouching behind the kitchen island while getting the bullets in the gun. I felt myself perspire and the fear welling up in my gut. I thought to myself maybe I had a chance if he had his gun pointed to the side I had entered from (of the island), so I came out around the opposite side. He had expected this and the first thing I see as I scoot out from the side of the island is his gun pointed directly at me resting on the back of the couch. He had one eye closed lining it up with my head. I shot three bullet before he pulled his trigger. They all miss. He fires his gun (it was as if he had waited that extra moment just to see if I were capable of killing him) and it strikes me in the face. I feel the blood wet my face first and then the cold of the air in the new orifice located around the upper right jaw/ just below the orbital. A small piercing pain was growing steadily, it hurt like hell. It was hot at cold at the same time. My ears rang and my heart sank as I know that this is the end of me. Time stands still for a moment and as it unfreezes my hand covers the hole and my legs stumble me back. My lower shoulder blades stop me against the sink counter. I slide down onto the floor and feel that metallic tasting fluid glide down my throat. My jaw gapes as I lean forward and a few pieces of crumbled teeth slip out and land in front of me. I see, but mostly just hear, the man shoot the rest of the team. They are all clean shots and my teamates die instantly. When he is done with them, he comes back over to me. He crouches down and rests on his heels. His gun hangs in his hand comfortably between his legs. He just sits there and watches me die slowly.

My mind often forgets what my gender is when I am within the realm of a dream. Sometimes I'm a boy and sometimes I'm a girl, I have even switched genders part way through.

In this one dream, I was a young boy living with his brother in a suburban home. Our parents had passed away a few months back and we were still trying to hide this information from authorities. We continued on wishing to live on our own without a foster parent because we knew that would mean moving to a different home and possibly a different school. The bills for the house kept coming and we could only tell the telephone that our parents were in the showers so many times before suspicion arose.

When it was found out that we were living on our own an estranged grandfather was given charge of us and the property. It was not like we had feared but in another way, this was much worse. There was a reason we had never been brought to meet this man. He was a child abuser. As soon as he arrived he made plans to do some landscaping, all the labor was done by brother and I. He didn't like the speed I was working so he pushed me down into the hole I had dug and pushed his brown plad covered pelvis into my face, all the while mocking me and calling me a faggot.

The last thing I remember before I wake is my back against the muddy wall and my pedophile grandfather leering over me, smiling a bit as he unzipped his trousers.

Sometimes I wonder if some dreams are portals into alternate realities.