What needs to be done at all...

I had a nightmare last night. I dreamed that my love and I were walking, alone together. On our way home, through the back streets of some city, we got close to the woods, which were not inherently menacing but held some evil none the less. There were three of them to begin with. Three boys, not much older then boys anyway, sitting on their bikes, watching us. I became afraid, hoping they would let us pass but in a way knowing that fear, as such a rich surrender of power, is virtually irresistible to those who crave it. Still we decided not to turn back. Then they were chasing us; my love and I ran in two opposite directions'… he got away. They had me and I was struggling. Twisting, fighting biting and screaming. He heard me and ran back, and yet when he got to us, he did nothing but hang his head in his hands. I saw him and cried. Why isn’t he stopping them? Why isn’t he fighting for me? As my body fought the wrongness they were forcing upon me I thought to myself, ‘This is the way he is going to save us'. Not a question, just comprehension. I cried for him, I cried for me, I never stopped fighting them. There were other girls there too, not victims but accomplices, laughing and taking cruel enjoyment out of my futile struggle. I have visions of their nasty faces peering down at me. The 'not quite boys, not yet men' were all wearing blue collar shirts and clean-cut, pretty boy hairstyles. I can still remember the smell of the woods, the feeling of dampness beneath me, of rocks and sticks jabbing into my back as they violated the rest of me. They slew my being, stole my power. When it was over they let us go, we walked home and did not speak, did not touch. I was seething, but not at him'… I did not hold any blame in my heart for his not helping me, only sadness that it could not be so when I needed it most. Once we arrived at our destination, I found what I was looking for; a righteous vessel for my anger and indignation. I left the house, left my love and did not tell anyone my intentions. I went back to the woods and found them all. I felt the awareness of my love and loved ones turn towards my actions as I aimed the gun at each and every one of those mother-fuckers hearts' and pulled the trigger. I did what needed to be done and I felt only grim resignation and some remorse that it needed to be done at all.

This dream reminded me of a dream I used to have when I was much younger. In this other dream I was in the desert somewhere. The kind of desert that has giant messa's and rock formations. My brother and I were teachers, or helpers-I'm not sure which, at this private school in the middle of nowhere. One day we can see those rock formations starting to shake, and for some reason we all understand that it means some evil menace is coming. So my brother and I begin herding all the children to some safer, lower floors, but not fast enough. Suddenly there are all these monsters; they resemble filthy little children, but with long sharp claws and red eyes and cruel mouths full of pointed sharp teeth. They are trying to kill the school children. I continue to try to get the students to a safe place until I notice that the monsters have started attacking my brother. I go berserk. I grab a huge butcher knife and I begin slaughtering the monsters, stabbing and hacking until there are NONE left. When its over I am standing there covered in blood, gripping this bloody knife feeling shocked at my actions... but convinced that it had to be done.

When I woke up this morning I felt so disturbed, fucked up. I wondered 'what the fuck does that mean?' I wanted to cry, but couldn't.