I dreamt last night that my husband, several strangers, and I were on our way to a concentration camp. My husband and I were just passing by; most of the strangers were there to pick up relatives. Apparently, they had recieved a communication telling them that they (the concentration camp) were releasing their (the strangers’) relatives, and had come to pick them up. I didn’t know for certain in the dream who the concentration camp was for, but I got the impression it was meant to hold Christians and their children, both for punishment and brainwashing.

As we passed by the concentration camp, we same a family of strangers –a father, who looked like a stereotypical ships captain, with navy uniform and a steel grey beard, a 30sish mother with mid-length dark brown hair, and a young girl, around 5 years old, with blonde hair and a petulant expression–recieving their baby from the camp guards. The mother and father were not happy on seeing their child returned; they seemed to want nothing more than to get out as fast as possible, afraid that their child would be taken again. The young girl was looking at them impatiently and a little contemptuously.

As my husband and I watched, the guards suddenly began chasing us all. We were herded towards a depression in the ground; it was about 8 feet deep, and about 8 feet in all dimensions. the inside was overgrown with grass, and there was a sort of an earthen bench around three of the sides. The fourth was sloped; it was the side we’d been rushed down. My husband, the father, and I were the first to fall in; the guards took away the mother’s baby again, dropping a small plastic toy in the process. In despair, the mother picked up the toy. The young girl knocked it out of her hand, down into the pit with us. I picked it up and threw it back up to the mother; the young girl angrily knocked it out of the mother’s hand again, and before I could throw it up again, the mother was pushed it with us. The young girl walked away willingly with the guards. I took out a pack of candy, the only food I had, and my husband and I ate half of it; before we could finish the rest of it, the father asked if his wife could split it with us (he used the word “splice” to mean split, it a foreign accent) and we gave the rest to them. The dream ended with me crying in my husbands lap, not out of despair but just sadness. When I woke up, I felt like the dream was an answer to my prayers for understanding of what is going to come.

December 30th, 2001 at 8:14 pm in Our Fault

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