The Infinite Domain

Non-Lucid|Lucid|Notes
Falsely Convicted
I'm in a courtroom, standing up at the defendant's table. Every accusation I hear is direct evidence of the murder I supposedly committed. The only problem? I'm innocent.

I'm dragged off by an officer in a khaki uniform and walked down a hallway, where the media is lined up along the walls. My mother shoves past a group of camera-holding spectators, just long enough to ask me a brief, yet impending question:
"Did you do it?"
I shake my head, no.

As I am carefully chained into the back an empty black van which, undoubtedly, should be taking me to a state penitentiary, I begin to cry. My life is over at 17. Damn, I didn't even get to go to college yet.

A thought crosses my mind...

I'm 17! I can't go to prison yet! This must be a..

The dream warps and I awake with a peculiar sense of satisfaction