Monday, May 30, 2016

"Imbedded" - 01/18/2007


Imbedded
01/18/2007

(Jesus, what a dream. Definitely not one of the cool action scenarios I've come to enjoy. I’d taken a multivitamin before bed, which I’m beginning to figure is a lot less necessary, seeing as how I haven’t been smoking at all, during the week. Usually when I take something before bed (B6 or Multivitamins) my dreams are not only much more vivid, but intense, so I may be giving those a rest, too. We’ll see.)

Anyway, as this dream began, I was journalist in Iraq. The sun was just starting to set and I was working along side CNN’s Soledad O’Brien. She was working a different topic, but we were working very close, often intertwining our stories, I’d suppose. The beginning is more of a blur. I know the topic I was covering had something to do with this underground tunneling system that the Mujahideen were using to tactically move around Iraq. At first, I was under the impression that I was given clearance to cover this story, but at one point, as I was standing along with Soledad and her camera crew, some of the Jihadists singled me out. One, seemingly unarmed, man grabbed me by my arms and began to walk me away from the rest of the crew. Obviously, Soledad was accepted, as they made sure to let her know that it was only me that had done something wrong. I remember her calling after me and trying to tell the hooded men that I was a part of her team. It meant nothing to them.

Being quickly guided toward the corner of a building, away from the cameras, I asked the guy where he was taking me. He said that he had orders to simply take me around the corner and execute me. I don’t even think he gave me a reason. Immediately, I was terrified. I didn’t know what I was going to do.

We got around the corner and into a small alley way. Scared out of my mind, I watched the man reach into the front of his pants and pull out a black pistol that looked a lot like an old Luger. As he was bringing the barrel up in my direction, I desperately lunged for the gun, grabbing it by the barrel and the man’s wrist. He fought back and the two of us struggled to gain control of the weapon. The scuffle lasted a couple of seconds and it ended up with me bending his wrist to a good enough angle to slide my finger into the trigger housing and squeeze, just as the barrel swung around to the guy’s head. The loud crack of gunfire rang out - and then, silence.

My heart sank, even though I’d killed him in self-defense, and I backed away. I didn’t even have time to collect my thoughts before I saw more men coming around the corner, a few-dozen yards away. I broke into a sprint, in the opposite direction, and began running through all the twisting and turning alleyways trying to lose them. The sun was going down and I was looking for any sort of shadowy places to hide. I passed a huge pen with a dog in it that started barking as I approached. I moved around the pen, constantly watching my back.

Coming up to the next corner, I actually began hearing mother calling for me. I looked into a nearby doorway and saw a man aiming a rifle at me, but my mom was next to him, motioning for me to hurry into the doorway. I went inside this building, that was actually a covert bunker for the American forces. Mom was there as an aid, and there were a bunch of people inside listening to surveillance equipment and staring at radar screens. They told me that (somehow) this building was 100% safe. Shaking, I sat down in a chair and began agonizing on how close I’d come to being executed and reflecting, painfully, on the fact that I’d just killed a man. For the last few seconds of the dream, I was a complete mess of emotions.

…I gotta stop watching the news.

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