This is my first post, and this is the first time I've had a dream of something like this. It happened at work, and kind of freaked me out. My background: I'm a cna, getting ready for nursing school, work a 24 hour shift, then a 48 hour shift weekly, live in nursing. I hate having to work like this, but its the only way I can go through nursing school and support my family. I admit animosity exists in my, but I internalize it and try to let it out through music when alone. I also use it as a propellant to get me through school to better my life. I'm female, 38. I did not eat/do/take/watch anything strange before bed this night, and have not been angry lately, this is the middle of a 48 hour shift, which has actually been pretty smooth for a change. That makes this dream even stranger to me. I'll apologize ahead of time for the long long post, but I included as much detail as the dream had for interpretive purposes. I must admit I'm almost afraid to publicize this dream, and have felt awkward all day because of it. Maybe someone here can help me out...here goes:I was walking and stopped for a moment at a bus stop. It was still dark out, just before dawn in fact. I’m not sure why I stopped, but it was a momentary pause, I was on my way to a hospital, 2 blocks away. There was a guy behind me, waiting for a bus it seemed. From what I can remember, he had on a green army jacket and jeans. In an instant I turned around and punched him, hard. There was no rhyme or reason to this, and I was not previously angry. He fell to the ground and I proceeded to literally beat him to death with my fists. I could not feel anger, just the urgent need to get the job done. I was wearing jean shorts and a pair of pink Nike Shox that I actually have in real life and don’t wear often. I also had an unusual wedding ring on, silver with a rose tinge to the color, a large silver flower, and a stone in the center. (Not something I would normally like) and the ring left an imprint in his face. I kept hitting him after he was dead, maybe two or three times. I could smell his blood, like a mix of iron and burned Spaghettios, and could feel it running down my legs, it was uncomfortably warm. It annoyed me because it made my legs itch as it dried. My shoes and legs were covered in his blood. I stood up, from being bent over him, panicked, and drug his body to a dumpster about 5 feet behind us. I hurled his body inside, but when I did this I could see now that he no longer had his jeans on, or his jacket. I could see his bare legs as I hoisted his body inside. I could hear the dragging and thud of his body hitting off the dumpster. I felt no remorse; it was more like a job that needed to be completed. I gave no thought to what happened to his clothes. At this point I noticed my shoes were leaving the tell tale sign of Nike Shox in bloody footprints, so I removed my shoes and threw them in the same dumpster. I proceeded to walk barefoot towards a hospital about 2 blocks away were I was supposed to be going for a job interview later that day. There was a small grassy hill beside it, and I walked through the grass in effort to remove the blood from my feet. The whole thing took place at just before dawn, so no one was around at the time of the murder, but now people were starting to be out and about, and the sun was out. I was worried about my bloody footprints, and noticed that a homeless man came upon them (I was looking behind me as I was walking) and he followed them to the dumpster. Someone called the cops and they arrived promptly. By this time I was in the parking garage of the hospital, on an upper level peeking down at the scene, keeping carefully out of sight. I watched as they removed his body from the dumpster, but not the shoes. I still had blood all over me, my shirt, hands, arms and legs, and was still wearing the ring. They taped off the scene, the local news showed up, and there was the typical investigation taking place as I watched. I felt no remorse, just curious about them finding the shoes. The homeless man went and pulled out the shoes, which angered me, and the cops took them as evidence. Now I was scared I would be caught. I thought of fingerprints being lifted from the shoes, and the fact that my Nike’s were custom made, not the everyday shox in stores. They are pink and white with flowers. At the time, I had worn them often, so the odds of someone recognizing them would be good. I also worried about the ring imprint in the guys face, but kept my ring on my finger. I called my husband to tell him I was in trouble and how stupid I was to have left my shoes, and I was certain I’d be caught. I started to imagine jail, losing my nursing career, losing my family and my son. I was sick at my stomach, but never threw up, just carried that sick feeling that I couldn’t shake, and it made me angry again. I tried several times to tell myself to shake it, wake up, it’s a dream, but each time I closed and opened my eyes, there I was in the parking garage with my stomach in knots. It’s not a dream I told myself. What a sick feeling! I just wanted rid of that feeling. I finally woke up just long enough to open my eyes, then close, and right back into the same dream again, only now I was cleaned up and on the advice of my husband, on my way to my interview at the hospital. It was like I missed a few minutes of what happened, and came back like the timeline was still running. Here I am. I still wore the ring. A nurse at the nurse’s station where I stood mentioned the unusual ring on my hand. I played it off, and walked down the hall to call my husband, I was paranoid again. He told me not to act suspicious and go about my day and act normal. I took off the ring and pocketed it. The interview went well, the charge nurse seemed a little rough, but I was hired for a three to eleven shift. I was happy because I would get to be home every night and no longer work the job I was stuck at. (strange here, because in real life I do live in nursing, am really stuck on this job, and yearn for next year when I can work normal shifts and sleep in my own bed every night.) I still was angry at the thought of getting caught, and so appeared to have an edgy demeanor. I wished I could lose the feeling and thought it might go away in time, but still had that sick feeling about me. Then my alarm went off and I woke up. Odd, I never felt remorse. ---that was the dream. I have had violent dreams in the past, but never like this, actually killing someone with my own hands..I'm still creeped out