11/17/2007
"Deja Vu"
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Another dream of dieing, last night.
I was in a house with about three other guys; friends of mine, in the dream, but nobody that I can really recognize from waking life. We were hanging out, when some other young guy comes in through the front door. He has this maniacal look on his face, like some whacked-out mad scientist, and starts telling us this “plan” he just put into effect. He dragged a body bag into the living room, and unzipped it, the body of some teenage boy stuffed inside. The guy said he’d killed the boy, to put his “plan” into motion, but I can’t remember what the hell plan he was trying to accomplish.
Immediately the rest of us started spazzing the fuck out, telling that guy that he was a psychotic freak and we wanted nothing to do with whatever the hell his “plan” was. A loud, female scream suddenly came in through the window, apparently from one of the houses next to us. The psycho looks at us and says something like “that must be his mother. Shit,” but in a really calm and almost businesslike way. The three of us, that already at the house when this guy showed up, suddenly scrambled. Running out of the house and shooting off in different directions, leaving the scene, immediately, just running through the neighborhood streets as fast as we could.
When I figured I’d gone far enough, I slowed down, pulled out my cell phone, and dialed 911. Just as I was beginning to say that I wanted to report a murder, I saw that I was actually walking straight up toward the house again (I don’t remember ever turning around and going back toward it), and it was swarming with cops cars and at least one S.W.A.T. van. Seeing that someone had already called, I told dispatch “nevermind,” and hung up the phone. For some reason, I was suddenly in this house again. The cops had this crazy guy cornered, and he had a machine gun, too. I got to the section of the house where I was right in the middle of their line of sight (no one had fired yet) and somehow triggered their firing on each other. (Don’t ask me how. I have no idea.) This guy was in one room, like a den, and the cops were in a bigger section of the house. There was nothing separating these rooms except a single vertical beam between two large sections of open space in the wall. When the firing started, the single guy on the opposite side of the beam from me, I tried to squeeze behind it. Not only was I too wide for the thin beam, but it was made of wood, so with the half-dozen or so automatic weapons went off, I was in the worst possible spot. I ended up getting riddled with bullets from both sides. None of the gunshots really hurt, but I could feel them going into me. I started to get that drained feeling that I usually get when dreaming of death, and I finally stumbled out of the way, falling over. I was then out of my body and panning away from it. The firefight had stopped and the cops were inspecting me. They lifted my shirt and I could see all the bullet holes that covered my chest. I forget how it happened but (according to my notes), as a disembodied spirit, I learned, as the cops did, that the whole Murder/”plan” thing was nothing but a movie being shot. We were just somehow thrown in the middle of it. When the cops were called, things got out of hand; the guy that was (supposedly) “doing a movie” had live ammunition, and it escalated from there.
Suddenly the dream reset. I was back in the house with the rest of the guys, and the “killer” came through the door with the body. We heard the scream and took off again, just like we’d done the first time. When I was pulling out my phone, I remembered that I had done this before. I realized I was dreaming, and what had happened the list time. Now lucid, I made my way back to the house. On the way there, I tried flying a few times, but was having trouble getting off the ground, more than a few feet. Back in the house, I walked back into the same room where the guys were having a standoff. I talked to S.W.A.T. and said something to get them to keep from firing on this other guy, then turned to face him. He was, all of a sudden, around a corner, instead of right in front of me. When I walked after him, he started shooting. I felt the bullets entering me, just like before, but continued moving forward, because I knew they couldn’t kill me.
Walking right up to the guy, I grabbed his machine gun and just took it from him, throwing it away. I then held him for the cops to come in, and take him down. It wasn’t until then that the guy actually started explaining that the body was a prop for a movie (there was still no evidence of cameras anywhere, now that I think about it), and that he didn’t really murder anyone. He said that the only reason he even shot at me was that he was freaking out because he was scared that the cops were going to kill him, and just reacted when I started coming toward him.
That’s as far as I remember.
