I have no idea what is up but last night I had about four insanely intense dreams. Sérieusement. Maybe it was because we actually slept with the heater on? I kept waking up after each dream. The next to last one had my boys and I living in an apartment in what appeared to be the 18th arrondisement, though there were no recognizable landmarks – but you know how your brain just decides these things. Anyway, it was absolutely beautiful and I do remember we were hurrying home and up our wrought iron staircase – but I don’t remember the danger in that dream. Except that I “coughed” up something granular, purple and bulbous – if you can even imagine what that would look like. Unfortunately, I can remember the taste and the sound of it forcing my mouth open. Yum
But the last dream I had was the most epic. It started with us already being in the underground city. Except we were above ground. O_O Right. The point is that the grocery store, the theater or church sanctuary, etc were all connected and we never had to go upstairs.
Josh and I and Ez were in the grocery store when the world started spinning, horribly. Ezra was younger by a bit – and incrementally became younger throughout the dream – and was laughing.
At first, I didn’t want him to be laughing because if and when he realized the severity of what was happening, I thought the sound of his laughter becoming screams would be too disturbing. Seriously, that was my internal thought. I was holding him tightly to me and sliding down aisles while other people maintained their footing – of course I was holding a child and they weren’t – and we passed into the canned food sections. I was yelling for people to grab us and help me away from things would seriously hurt my child if they started falling. I don’t remember anyone helping us, though they stared wide-eyed, and then I somehow got myself turned around.
Eventually, the hardest tremors ceased and we knew – not that anyone said it – that there was no way out of any of the tunnels. They were completely blockaded with rubble and we – constituting a small city – were trapped except for the roof access that was connected to the grocery store.
People start to behave strangely when they figure out that they’re trapped, the world is falling apart outside and they’re more than likely going to die where they are. Some woman decided to start fires to separate the grocery store into neighborhoods – right! – and keep people away from her area. It seemed like people were looking to me, so at this point everyone in the underground knew who I was and expected me to solve problems. Nice.
The freezer sections, the little islands that run through the grocery store, had stopped working long ago and were filled with water… they also served as evidence that the floors beneath us were now submerged in freezing water from the snow storm that might have been responsible for everything that was happening and from the pipes bursting in the subway, etc. So I’m struggling to reach through this freezing water to get to things that can be used as buckets to transport it to the still small fires. At one point, I ask the woman next to me – who is holding a child younger than now toddler Ezra – to hold him while I put out these fires.
I distinctly remember that I found the matches being used and threw them all on the fire to keep people from going off and making new fires while I was putting these out. Coulda probably threw them into the freezer islands, but I didn’t. We have to stand by our decisions, people.
So the woman is holding my baby and hers – though she seems too old to have a baby, to be honest – and I don’t really know why I couldn’t have given him to Josh… he’s around, but I’m not sure where. Anyway, so I’m getting the fire out and up some industrial looking steps and out the glass ceiling/door, I see a helicopter landing on the roof. Everyone starts rushing in that direction and I know they only have room for the small children. The woman who is holding Ezra and her own child is being ushered to the doors and I’m relieved.
When I get the fire out, I head up the stairs to see if I’m too late to say goodbye to Ezra. Only I find him sitting on the roof and the gurneys I saw before have been put away and the helicopter is starting to lift. I pick him up – and now he’s a few months old – and am completely overwhelmed. I know my face must have looked like a beaten hound dog. My heart is completely broken. (I can honestly recall the feeling right now.) The woman who was holding him, steps away from the lifting helicopter and completely without remorse says to me, “I didn’t know if they’d let me give two babies.”
I don’t say anything to her, just hold Ezra to my chest as I head out of the cold and back down the stairs into the chaotic underground. I’m staring straight head, holding my now baby Ezra close to me. I am dreading finding Joshua, telling him Ezra is stuck down here with us. That the helicopter left him. And everyone is turning to watch me, all of the people trapped with us. They are stopping what they’re doing and this huge place falls silent while I descend the steps in shock, protectively holding a baby I know I can’t protect from what apparently is going to be the end of life on Earth.
It was. Really depressing.
So I thought I’d share it with you. You’re welcome!