Note: This was a dream of mine. I have this warning here because some visitors have thought my life had just gone to pot, when really they were only reading one of my crazy dreams. :)
Trin and I were standing around in our swimsuits at a long, silver swimming pool. Trin was at the ladder, climbing in. The pool was located at the edge of a cliff; maybe fifty feet out from the cliff, a sheer rock face went up. Between the cliff and the rock face, this black, tarp-like material stretched horizontally. The cliff we were on went downhill, and there were several sections of tarp, like steps, going along with the side of the cliff. Water flowed down it, and it remained stiff. It was sturdy enough for people to walk on, which some were doing further down the hill: some frat guy and a girl he was with had their jeans rolled up and were splashing around, talking. It was a sunny day; Trin and I were swimming and talking. Someone else was with us but I can’t remember who.
I heard the girl from behind us say something about, ‘what a pretty plane’, so I looked around at her. She was pointing at a large commercial plane in the sky behind us. I turned back around and saw that it looked very low to the ground. I asked Trin, “Are they supposed to be that low?” She said something about ‘not normally’ but, as we watched, the plane pulled back up and seemed to be leaving. We shrugged it off but then saw it double back. This time, it looked like it was going to crash into the ground. “I don’t think planes bank like that,” I said in a very anxious voice. Things then began to fall from the plane as it swooped over our heads; they were bombs. People around us started to scream and run around.
Suddenly, the plane and bombs were gone, and people were once again playing in the water, hanging out, and enjoying the day. Trin was back at the pool ladder, climbing in again. The plane scene had never happened; it was a premonition. I yelled at Trin, upon realizing this, that we had to get out of there, we were in danger. She seemed surprised enough by my urgency that she listened and came with me. I yelled at the guy and girl and everyone else I passed; I was now running down the hill. My parents’ house was at the foot of it; people who had been on the hill were now running everywhere. I heard the plane in the sky above the hill and I knew I didn’t have much time. I ran to the side of the house and pulled out a insulated board from the concrete foundation. I was going to get under the house because it seemed the sturdiest, most covered place.
I got inside and was grossed out because I thought there were bugs on the ground, but I sure wasn’t leaving. I pulled the ‘door’ back into place and stayed there because there was another concrete wall making a corner, even though I had entered the foundation in the middle of one side. I did that tornado drill maneuver they teach you in school: kneel with your head down and your arms over your head. I heard the bombs start to drop outside and hoped people were safe. I smelled something burning and turned my head to see part of the floor of my parents’ house, several yards behind me, was on fire.
The plane screeching and bombs dropping didn’t last long. I lifted my head but planned to stay under the house for a while longer. However, a group of people came up outside the foundation opening next to me. They pulled the board out and I saw it was a bunch of men dressed in big hazmat suits, carrying lots of weird equipment. They climbed in the hole and laid some other man down next to me. He looked injured in some way. They stuck an oxygen tube in his mouth and poured water down over top of the tube; he fainted. One of the hazmat guys wanted to do the same thing to me, but I protested. I don’t know if they wanted to test me for something or what, but they eventually convinced me to allow them to knock me out. I laid down, they stuck the tube in my mouth, and then the same guy poured water down the back of my throat. Things went black and I could feel my right arm flop down across my chest.
I woke up in the middle of a bus filled with Asians. I looked around, confused, and the people around me looked back at me. Everyone seemed dirty and tired. I noticed we were driving through some residential neighborhood that looked poor and rundown. I stood up and cried, “What’s going on?” Some older woman at the front of the bus was standing up. She looked Italian and had long, curly black hair. She wanted me to sit back down and be quiet, but I wanted some answers. I also didn’t want to be on the bus, so I made my way to the side emergency door that was behind my seat. The woman at the front saw what I was doing too late, and I hopped off the bus, which fortunately wasn’t moving quickly.
The bus stopped as I ran up to one of the houses. The woman got off and screamed at me to stop; I was about to knock on the door. “What’s going on?” I demanded again, not leaving the front porch of the house. “Where are my parents and husband?” The woman wouldn’t answer me, but instead kept yelling for me to come off the porch, that it was breaking the agreement. The people still on the bus were watching out the windows with scared expressions on their faces. The woman seemed to be debating coming after me, so I quickly turned and pounded on the door.
The next part was a blur. Some man opened the door but he didn’t look normal. He instead looked like a zombie, with his face all contorted and rotting. I backed off the porch toward the woman, who was now screaming for us to get back on the bus. I didn’t have a problem this time, so we quickly got on the bus as the zombie man came shambling toward us.
The dream skipped and the bus had pulled up to a very dusty patch of grass leading to a bar down the side of a hill. There was a junkyard next door and it was twilight. We were all getting off the bus; I still didn’t know what had happened to everyone, particularly my parents and Todd, who was apparently my husband. We all kind of stood around in the yard for a few minutes. I was looking around because a lot of other people were already here. None of them were like the creepy zombie man who had come out of the house.
I felt some presence behind me and started to whip around out of fear. It was Todd, and he was smelling my hair. He was looking blankly off into space but he wasn’t a zombie. He suddenly grabbed me in a hug because he recognized me. I was so shocked that it took me a minute to hug him back. We both started crying and he started going on about having worried and missed me. I said that I had been worried, too. I pulled back to look at him again and realized he was blind. I cried harder and hugged him again.
The dream shifted again and everyone was inside the bar; it was nighttime. Todd and I, along with several others, were sitting on the floor along one wall. Some guy was behind the bar, cleaning out a glass and dressed like a bartender. Some of us were sleeping, a few of us talking. I hadn’t found my parents, but I had found out what had happened. Apparently, when the plane dropped the bombs, it crashed shortly afterward. A lot of people had been killed by it, others like us had survived, but also a lot had been turned into the zombie creatures that we normal people were calling ‘Planers’. (My subconscious totally took this from Cell by Stephen King, only in that book it was cell phones and the mutants were called ‘Phoners’.) The Planers wanted to kill us normal people. Apparently, some kind of agreement had been made shortly after this was discovered, though, that we would all leave each other alone. I had no idea how long I had been unconscious between being under the house to being on the bus.
Suddenly, a group of people came to the bar door outside; Planers. People around me started standing up and grabbing for weapons. Todd and I remained sitting, Todd on my right with me closest to the door. A metal broom handle was shoved into my hand. The Planers came in and yelled to see “the dissenter;” they meant me, because I had knocked on that guy’s door. I waved my broom handle kind of tiredly and refused to get up. One Planer caught my attention; it was Bentley. The other Planers hung around the door but Bentley came up to stand in front of me; he was also holding a broom handle. He took a hard swing at me but I was able to meet him, so our brooms just clacked together. They bent a little bit. Bentley and I talked for a bit over top of the broom fight. He finally stopped swinging at me and tossed his bent handle at me. He turned to leave and I called his name; when he turned around, I tossed him my broken, shorter broom handle. He and the other Planers left.
