The Balloon Has Gone Up

    Yearning to serve my country, I make the decision to enlist in the military. The journey begins with a grueling two-week boot camp, a crucible of endurance and discipline. Alongside my comrade Chad, we find ourselves thrust into the company of seasoned soldiers, their eyes reflecting the weight of experience and the scars of conflict.

    Together, we march to the battlegrounds, braving the horrors of war. The air was thick with tension, the deafening sound of gunfire, and the acrid stench of fear. Our hearts pound in unison as we face the unknown, driven by duty and the unyielding camaraderie that binds us.

    Yet amidst the chaos, tragedy strikes with a cruel and unforgiving hand. My mother, a beacon of unwavering support, ventures to visit me in the midst of the turmoil. But fate, ever the cruel mistress, unleashes its merciless blow. An enemy soldier, lurking in the shadows, springs forth and in a split second, snuffs out the light of her existence. Grief clings to my soul like a suffocating shroud, engulfing me in an abyss of despair.

    Despite the weight of sorrow that threatens to consume me, Chad and I press on, our footsteps heavy with determination. We continue to navigate the treacherous path of battles, our minds scarred by loss but our resolve unwavering. Each engagement, a reminder of the fragility of life and the sacrifices we make in the name of duty.

    In the midst of the turmoil, a small helicopter emerges, its blades slicing through the air like whispers of hope. The pilot, a figure of unknown origin, turns to me and beseeches for assistance. His request is simple—to wipe away the encroaching dust that threatens the delicate machinery while we soar through the heavens.

    In that moment, doubt gnaws at the edges of my conscience. I confess my lack of experience, my inability to fulfill the role bestowed upon me. The pilot, understanding the weight of my admission, nods with somber understanding. "I appreciate your honesty," he murmurs, the gravity of the situation etched upon his weathered face. And so, the opportunity slips through my grasp, the winds of destiny carrying me in a different direction.

    Regret lingers, mingling with the scent of gunpowder and the cries of fallen comrades. In this realm of uncertainty, choices are made and fates intertwine. I am left to wrestle with the ghosts of what could have been, the path not taken—a solitary soldier, burdened by the weight of an unchosen destiny.

I wake up. 

STAB

Dream 10/18/2017

My sister, Kristen, brother-in-law, Chad, and I go to a military work-out session. Kristen and Chad are part of the military but I am not. However, they said I would be allowed to participate. We stand outside the front door among several other soldiers. While standing there, a woman soldier stabs another.

We walk into the building. I stay in the locker room, not feeling right about joining the work-out. A girl who I used to know named Emily is standing in the locker room. Neither of us speak to each other.

When the work-out session is over, we stand outside the front door once again. A girl I know named Kasey, who is a police officer, walks over to me and stabs me in the arm. I am worried because the blade went into my fistula, which is used for dialysis. Dream ends.

I wake up

Bombshell

Dream 8/1/2015

I arrive at my high school one morning a few minutes before the first bell.

     If you get to school a little early, you can sit in the bleachers and talk with friends. A man that we don't recognize stands in front of the students. He says that for now on, we the students will have to remain completely silent when sitting in the bleachers before school. The students are not happy. We barely get any time to relax and talk throughout the school day and now they're going to take one of the only times that we can talk and say we can't. The students pull out their cell phones and call the office to complain. A few minutes later a voice comes over the intercom and tells us that do to much complaint, the "silence rule" will not be implemented. The students unanimously let out a roar of elation.

     The school day begins. I need to grab a book from my locker and head to first period, Bible class. My locker is a train wreck. I lack basic organization skills. Most of my books are jammed at the bottom of the locker. I can see many of them are torn up and abused. I grab what I need and walk to class.

     I know I am running late because the hallways are mostly empty. I can feel the final bell ringing at any moment. In a moment of desperation, my walk turns into a full sprint. I just might make it. When I get there I am met by an empty classroom, a handful of students, and no teacher. This is odd. The class is usually full to the brim. My first thought is that I am in the wrong place. Then the intercom comes on. A lady's voice is heard throughout the halls and classrooms of the school. The lady on the other end tells us that they have found a military machine outside the school that they believe to be a bomb, and that all students need to stay where they are. We can see the machine from the windows of our classroom.

     I still wonder where the students are. Did they know something that I didn't? Are they the smart ones? I would think so. If there is a possible bomb anywhere near you, the smart people disregard orders to stay. Why is nobody panicking. The rest becomes fuzzy. Perhaps the bomb went off. Perhaps it didn't. Maybe I am just a tiny bird ready to peek my head over the edge of the nest to get a fresh look at the world. Suppose I woke up and their was no sun and I spent my days wondering whether it was day or night. I've been here before, I know it. This place is too familiar to be strange. I can't seem to find where it fits in my past, but I know I've been here. Perhaps the bomb went off. Dream ends.

I wake up.

War Is Hell

Dream 2-13-14 

We're in another country. Possibly France. I think it is World War II.

My company and I are cautiously sneaking through an empty European village. It's downcast and raining. We're in the top floor of a second story building. I think I hear the enemy creeping around on the outside balcony. I ask a fellow soldier to hand me his 9mm. I load a fresh magazine. I'm hoping the girls in the company are impressed with my gun skills. I peek out the door. I see a German. I shoot! I miss. I shoot again! I miss again. This gun isn't working for me. I take a shotgun from the girl behind me. I pump. I peek around the corner. The enemy is in my sights. I shoot. Target terminated. 

Our company moves on. Now in another building, we split up. My group of men wait on the second floor of this building while the other group completes their mission. We're here in case they need backup. by myself, I walk down the stairs. I find a kitchen. It isn't my kitchen but since the town is empty I feel that I can take what I want. I take some food and bring it back to my group of men.

I look out the second story window across the small village. I see the rest of our company running back to the rendezvous point. I jump from the second story window to the wet ground below. I begin to catch up to my company taking out the enemy as I go. Dream ends.

I wake up.