Last night I had the most horrible nightmare of my life.
It began with me and Brandon riding in his car down a muddy road to what seemed to be a military complex. I have to assume it takes place four to five years from now because he had just gotten out of the military which he hasn't actually joined yet. We were talking about this complex and making jokes about how we could take over the whole thing and stuff like that. Then we came to a stop.
We get out and enter the main building through a covered entryway. Inside, it looks much the same as an airport. There are glassed-off rooms and conveyor belts. Voices are heard over different intercoms. There are military personnel and civilians swarming the place. The military people were wearing green uniforms, not camo, just dark green. The ones with rifles had long coats while the rest had only a side arm.
We proceeded to a line of people and we started filing through metal-detectors. We both get through clean and almost immediately we get to a desk window where a nurse gives us an assortment of pills to take.
Pills? Then it hits me, we're living under a world police state. A dictatorship. This is not an airport, it's a processing center! The line starts moving faster and I soon lose contact with Brandon for quite some time as people are randomly put into seperate lines. I come to another checkpoint with a strange-looking device set up by the door which I quickly recognise as an eye-scanner. I'm told by a guard to look into the scanner, which I kinda half-comply with his order by only appearing to look into the scanner. This was obviously overlooked because I cleared the door and the line kept moving.
This goes on for what seems like two hours even though the lines are moving rapidly. We were given shots, asked questions, searched. It was ridiculous and when I finally met back up with Brandon in a side lobby I said, "Can you believe this crap? Can you see the tyranny? We're like livestock!"
Brandon doesn't say anything after this point. He really doesn't have much of an expression on his face except a slightly angry, perplexed look. We walk over to the far corner of the building where there are hardly any people, by a baggage conveyor that nobody is claiming bags from. I lean against the wall and Brandon stands in front of me looking out into the crowd. I see him lift his shirt slightly in front and pause.
He slowly turns towards me with a silenced pistol on his juggular, aimed to the back of his neck. I'll never forget the look on his face just before he pulled the trigger. It was a look of uncertainty and bewilderment. A look that told the madness he had just realized all around him.
The trigger is pulled and a muffled discharge is heard. A spray of blood shoots from the back of his neck and he slumps to the floor. I'm locked in place, head unable to move, jaw dropped. I just stare in front of me where I was just seeing my best friend alive for the last time. Everything slows down at this point. My vision begins to clear and I see a guard standing at a booth look over at me, my fallen friend on the floor. He points and shouts, "Someone's been shot!"
I collapse to my knees and grab Brandon's head in my hands and yell, "Why did you do that?! No, Brandon! No! Oh God I've lost my best friend! No!" His eyes are closed and his body is motionless.
In the dream I didn't seem to notice, but I could see Brandon's spirit in my peripheral sitting beside his body looking at himself wide-eyed and exclaiming, "Why did I just do that?" Funny in retrospect, but in the dream I was actually wanting to slap the hell outta him.
Everything around me started swirling and blurring and getting dark. Then I woke up. Before I could even open my eyes I realized that I had tears streaming down my face. I was obviously really upset, but you know how it is when you're suddenly awoken and you don't quite know what all's going on yet.
All day today I was grateful that Brandon wasn't dead. I realized that he's one of the only friends I don't know if I could go on in life without. We've been through a lot of crap together and we're crazy enough to plan on going through even more crap in the future.
Here's to Brandon, mein bruder in den armen
(He'll probably correct my German later.)
View User's Journal
A collection of thought-provoking gibberish.
 |
