Thread: Nightmare

I rarely have nightmares, and as an adult, I've had only two dreams that were disturbing to me the day after I had them. I'm posting the latest here just to get it off my chest and self-medicate through what I hope is a therapy of discussion.

Two nights ago, I dreamt that my son, 9, was killed. It was a particularly vivid dream--of which every detail seems to linger. I suspect that most people are like me, and they casually dream of things in ways where the overal feeling is best remembered and details are harder to recall.

The dream begins in a place that I don't recognize... it's a populated park trail where people go to walk and ride bikes. It seems fairly popular with a number of people walking. There was no sign in view to give instructions or whereabouts.

At a crossroads of the trail, a small shed was visible. The dream begins with me walking a few steps towards the crossroads where my son and two of his friends, who have run ahead. My son and one of the boys are talking. They both have a look of bewilderment on their faces and I can tell that they are both confused and apprehensive. I heard my son say, "He's creepy".

At that moment, a man, in his late 50's or early 60's, about 5'10, 210 lbs, balding, with a heavy-footed step briskly appears from behind the shed and begins shouting angrily. The third boy seemed to be aloof and unattentive to the other two. His first words were garbled and I heard, "If you're not [indecipherable] then I'll throw the first blow"... as he appeared, it became apparant that he was speaking to the boys.

At once, he drew a small handgun... a shiny, small caliber pistol and fired it into the first boy's head. The gun intself made a loud noise. The little boy dropped at once and let out a loud, chirping yelp that was silenced very quickly. It happened so quickly that the man then turned to my own son, who had barely realized what happened himself. He was pushing himself off a tree and turning to look at me when the man fired the next shot into the side of his head.

My son dropped immediately into a slumped sitting position--and began to slowly fall on his back. I could clearly see that blood was flowing heavily from both sides of his head and his eyes were open and he was staring at me. The white in his eyes had turned a smoky color. I could tell that he was dead instantly. The man fired another shot into his head before he even fell over. Then he fired a shot a the third boy--which I could not see through the trees. I did not get the impression that he died.

Words can't describe how awful I felt in the morning. With such a vivid show, it feels like I've the horrendous murder of my own son... and it won't go away. I'm so very happy that it was a dream, but the feeling lingers quite close. I wish I could forget it.