Do you believe that your dreams mean something much more than only that it is a dream? Some people say when you dream of someone getting married, someone in reality will die…or the other way around.
Well, either way, if you believe or not, what do you make of this dream I had Saturday night? When I woke up Sunday morning I felt rattled and shocked and very disgusted and confused – basically I was an emotional time bomb.
I’ll try to keep this as short as possible…(But it is quite long, so read it if you dare)
It stated where my mom, my dad and I were at an airport trying to check in under secret/false names. The airport employees bought it but told me I have to leave my dog behind. Before I could start fussing and make a scene they took Skollie from my arms and away somewhere, somewhere I didn’t know.
Then… (Completely different from the airport scenario)
The next thing I knew I was moving to a strange place with my friend Mariska. The town almost looked like
or Tokyo, India . Maybe a mix, you know, where everything is built so close to each other and everything looks dirty and untidy. Bangkok
We went to a photo shop, I don’t know why, and found ourselves in the presence of a few strange men carrying a strange bottle with weird dark milky looking liquid in. We waited patiently at the counter for the men to finish with their business.
The one man handed us shot glasses with a cocky smirk on his face that made me feel very uncomfortable. Mariska whispered in my ear that I must be polite with these men because they are very dangerous. She told me that they are murderers and rapists who torture their victims before killing them. She also told me that they kill animals for fun and that apparently they take photos of all their crimes and develop them there in that very shop.
My eyes followed the counter to where the men were standing looking through lots of pictures. That is when I saw it, all the photos of the tortured and raped dead girls and women. On their faces I could see the pain. Their naked body covered in deep cuts so that there is almost no skin left. The men were laughing and drinking their shots.
Mariska and I pretended to engage into a conversation, hoping these men would leave. The one guy looked at men, and out of stress and fear I asked: “What are you drinking?”. He just laughed and on his cracked lips I could see, the liquid in the bottle, it was blood, it was blood from all their victims. They were drinking it, making them feel powerful and in control. That is when I realized…they have my dog, they have Skollie. (I think this is where the airport scenario fits in.)
When they left I spoke to the guy that helped them, seeing on his face that he was so frightened of them that he was shitting in his pants. I begged and pleaded for him to help me and tell me what to do, because they have my dog and they are going to kill him.
Finally he told me that they normally go on a three week killing spree and disappears again for three weeks. He said that it just started again and that the only reason he is alive is because he develops their photos and shuts up. He gets to live because he is a coward. He told me to go to some pharmacy and that there is a lady that will give me what I want.
Suddenly I was at this pharmacy looking place that was actually also a photo shop, but there was a man following me. I knew he was part of the rest of the killing gang, but I just smiled and walked along. Then a woman from behind the counter called me and told the man she wants to see me alone, she wants to see me about womanly things. I followed her behind the counter and up the escalator. I waited in the door by the escalator as she went into the next room. She came back with two envelopes. Both of them had my name and surname written on them. I opened it, it was photos, and lots of it. They were more photos of the killing gang and their victims. I rushed to get them out, because I knew there would be photos of Skollie in there. There was!! Lots!! He was alive, but wouldn’t be for much longer. As I looked through the photos I came across a photo of eight rottweiler puppies. In the next photo they were all rapped in bloody towels, dead. The very last photo was of a man dragging a half alive girl with a bloody mouth and a broken jaw somewhere. She had a vague look in her eye, as if she had already given up.
Next we were at a woman’s birthday party. I remember her turning 27 but she looked about 40. I never got to see her face and I can’t remember her name. Again, those men showed up looking for their next target. I just started to sing “Happy Birthday” out loud out of panic, hoping they would leave. They shouted at me demanding more wine. I took a bottle with the intention of whacking him over his head, but couldn’t. As I poured him his glass of wine, not knowing it would be his last, the police stormed in arresting all of these men. The head of police came to me thanking me and told me if it wasn’t for me they would never have found the killers. He instructed me to go with him immediately to the men’s flat/hideout.
As we arrived there the ambulance was busy carrying their last, but luckily alive victim, out on a stretcher, on her way to the hospital. She was cut up, raped and bloody, just like in the photos, but the difference was…she was breathing and will live to remember it for the rest of her life. As I turned to face the front door of the flat I saw Skollie! He came running to me like a happy little puppy, but jumped on me and gripped me tight around my neck and shoulders, pushing his face into my neck and making these little moaning sounds. He was shaking, I knew he was terrified.
Luckily I got my dog back.
Anyway…that was a mouthful. I still have a lot to say about dreams, but I will keep that for next time. Just tell me…what should I make of this dream??