I had a dream last night, in which I was running.
I was running from men who were holding guns.
I was running towards a child who was injured, whose Mother was shot.. a child who needed a protective grasp.
I ran until I reached the child, lifted him up and continued to run.
I ran while holding him and then I saw my Sister.
She too, was running.
She hadn’t seen me, but I saw her and all I could think of, was how to make sure she would be okay. I thought of her children and how to reach them- how to make sure their Mother would be with them.
I began to run toward my Sister, all the while holding on to the child who will forever remain nameless for me.
We were coming up to a muddy and deep ditch when a truck emerges from the right of us and it too, contained men who were not letting go of the trigger that held so much God like power.
I collapse into the ditch just as bullets enter my neck. At first, I think, that maybe they just grazed it and I’m alright… but who knows. All I could register seriously in my thoughts was 1) Did the bullets also somehow hit my Sister? 2) Maybe they hit “Nameless”… do I just leave him in my arms? What do I do? Do I risk moving to shield him just a bit more? 3) I felt no pain… throughout this whole ordeal, I finally felt no pain.
I decided to just lay there- I decided to play dead. I heard every single word the men said. It was all in English but it was in a language I didn’t understand. I guess I didn’t understand the language of Hate like they did. I didn’t know how I refrained from crying, I didn’t know if I was slowly dying…
A man reached in to get me.
I heard my Sister’s voice from far away saying that she was okay. She had the little ones- she was safe. Nameless would soon be given a name.
I heard my Sister’s voice.
While I woke up from this dream, this nightmare… people around the world LIVE this terror every single day… I want to live in a World where none of this hatred exists. I guess that for now, I’ll just keep on dreaming.