"A Date with Death" - 01/20/2014

"A Date with Death"
01-20-2014

(In this dream, I was dating a friend of mine, J, from waking life. Unfortunately, it turned out to be one of the worst dreams I've ever had...)

The beginning of the dream started off wonderfully. We were lounging around the house, getting some cuddle-time in, talking about nothing and simply enjoying being close to each other. It couldn't have been more pleasant. Sometime in the early evening, we decided to go out to a restaurant, and I told her I knew of a good steakhouse downtown. We took a good drive out to the city (what city, I don't know), over and through some winding highways, and stopped at a large shopping area with plenty of cafes and restaurants. 

I was searching for a 'Ryan's Steakhouse', which is a place I used to love, as a kid, but it was extremely hard to find. We walked in, and through, many different places, as they were all connected, but couldn't find the place I was looking for. Finally, after exiting one building, I looked back and saw a sign which told us that the place we'd just exited was actually the steakhouse I was looking for. When we were about to walk back in, J told me that she had to use the restroom, which was right outside, in a separate building. (The way the places were connected reminded me of most, major theme parks, with their many, intertwined shops and stand-alone bathrooms).

While she went to the ladies' room, I made my way over to the men's room. Just before entering, I happened to catch sight of two men having a heated argument. I wasn't paying much attention until I saw that one of them, who was obviously the aggressor, was brandishing a very large pistol. The moment I noticed his gun, he noticed me...noticing his gun. The look he gave me told me that he wasn't pleased by my presence, and all of his attention suddenly shifted to me. I tried not to make eye contact, but it was too late. He quickly swung the barrel of his gun in my direction and said "Hey! Come here!" I thought to myself: 'There is No way in Hell I'm going over there', averted my eyes and briskly walked around the corner, into the bathroom. 

The last thing I saw, out of the corner of my eye, was him walking after me, very quickly, with his gun still raised.

Just around the corner from him, my mind quickly raced with the dangerous situation I was now in; I was walking into a completely enclosed area, with an armed man following me. If he had the intention to shoot me, I would, literally, be trapped prey. That was unacceptable. I had to do something. Knowing that he would be rounding the corner at any moment, I flatted myself against the wall, just at the entrance, and waited. I was not about to give this guy the chance to toy with me. The moment he would come in sight, I was going to lunge at his gun-wielding arm and do my best to disarm him, before he could get off a shot. ...It did not go according to plan.

I didn't even have a chance to lunge at him. He quickly stepped around the corner, leading with the pistol, but just far enough away from the wall to be slightly out of my reach. The moment I saw him, and just as I was making my desperate reach for his wrist, he fired a single shot. The sound was deafening, and I felt the impact as a hard 'thunk' against my forehead, which snapped my head backward on my neck and threw me to the floor. For a moment, all I could see was the ceiling.

I was still 'conscious' (as much as one could be, in a non-lucid dream), but I quickly found out that I had lost all feeling in my lower body. I could do nothing but lay there, in a terrified haze, wondering about the extent of my injury. I knew I wasn't dead - yet - and I wondered if the bullet had just grazed me. My arms could move just a little, but they were numb and weighted, taking all my strength just to barely move them. I think I remember calling out for help, but I'm not sure. Seconds later, J came into my view. Immediately, she began screaming and crying out for help.  She reached down to me and hurriedly started dragging me out of the bathroom hallway by one arm, into more public view. 

Now outside, in the open, she began to frantically wail for help. (My friend has anxiety issues, and it had completely consumed her, in this dream.) I was able to turn my head, just a little, and saw that the few people walking around us weren't really paying much attention. She dropped down beside me and put an arm around the back of my head, cradling it. I could hear her sobbing, saying something like "Your..your brain..your brain his coming out!" This put me into a panic, but I was so 'numb', that I couldn't really even freak out about it. I pleaded to her to call 911, but she was the one who was freaking out; so much so, that she couldn't even compose herself enough to register the thought of calling the paramedics. She just held me to her, screaming for help.

I begged, over and over, in a weak, sedated voice: "Call them! Please!" I even mustered all the strength I could to put a limp, unfeeling hand into my pocket to pull out my cellphone. When I tried to push it over to her, it was like she didn't even notice it. She just kept holding me and looking around, screaming for someone to help us. From the way she was holding me, I could tell that the exit wound in my head was massive, and I was quickly becoming a gruesome mess, right there on the pavement. Finally, still fighting against a full-body numbness, I lifted my cellphone onto my stomach and fumbled around with the screen, trying to unlock it. Unable to do so, I decided to use the Emergency Call feature and was able to bring up the dial pad. Unfortunately, all I could see was a jumble of letters, numbers and illegible symbols. Surely, I figured, the bullet had scrambled my brain, and I was no longer able to read. I knew that I would be dead soon. (That would have been a wonderful clue that I was dreaming, if, you know, I wasn't too preoccupied with the thought that I was dying.)

Dropping the phone, I again pleaded with J to go find help; to call 911; to do something! As I was talking, I could see that a bloody piece of my jawbone had broken off and rolled down my chest and onto the ground. The large caliber bullet had, apparently, shattered my entire skull. I wondered what was holding it together at all. After some more breathless pleading, I was able to get her to leave me long enough to find help, and I could see her, through the window of the steakhouse, rushing around with her hands in the air, trying like hell to get anyone to help her. Most people just kind of waived her off and went back to their meals. 

Eventually, she ran back to me with a couple of slightly-interested staff members walking, nonchalantly, behind her. She took up her previous position, pulling my head up to her and cradling it, and sobbing over me. The staff members just looked down at me like: "Hmm. Well. That sucks. Maybe we should do something?" I asked J if she was able to call EMS, while she was inside. She said she didn't, and went on to say something about how she was freaking out and wouldn't even know what to say to them.

Frustrated and weak, I was losing all hope and could feel my consciousness slipping away from me. Suddenly, I felt a distinct lightness in my head, and heard sort of a *sploosh* sound, beneath me. J immediately squirmed and I could hear her begin to panic even more. She screamed: "It...it fell out! It just fell out!" By this, I instinctively knew that my brain - or what was left of it - had just fallen out of my head and onto the ground, remaining connected merely by the strands of my nervous system. 

Despair completely set in. I knew I was about to die. I thought about my family, and how much I just wanted to see them one more time, even if only so that I knew that they were aware of what happened. Once more, in vain, I tried to beg J to call 911, but I could no longer speak. I could only gurgle as my mouth and throat quickly began filling up with blood. On top of it all, I was going to drown on my own fluids. Any bit of fight in me that remained finally faded away, and I resigned to my inevitable death.

(I suddenly woke up, sleeping on the couch. Immediately, and in utter disbelief, I reached up and touched the back of my head, relieved to feel that it was still in one piece. 

What a freaking TRIP. I couldn't sleep well, after that, and spent the rest of the early morning tossing and turning. I figure the likely inspirations for the dream to be: Switching between watching X-2 and Transformers 3, as I was falling asleep. One of the last X-2 scenes I saw was Wolverine getting shot in the head, and I think the relationship between Sam and his girl, in T3, put emphasis on the date/emotional aspect of the dream. Also, a selfie pic by J was one of the last things I'd seen on Facebook, before bed, so I'm pretty sure that's why it dragged her into the mix. Not a good way to start my Monday morning, though...)