Scattered Dreams & Dragonflies

The last pier

I found myself walking through what seemed like a pier, one with a rather unconventional appearance. The area was filled with soldiers, men and women dressed for what seemed like war, yet the environment felt calm. As I walked, I began to take in the scenery. In the dark of night, open corridors bathed in dark blue adorned the walls, with iron bars covering the exits leading to the shore. Every few steps, I could see inside through the bars where men stood upright, facing the quiet water. It seemed odd to have so little protection on a shore like this. You would think there would be at least a lookout, on a higher space, able to see enemies in the distance—no turrets, no flying contraptions, no boats, just men standing watch and iron bars. The walls weren't much higher than a few feet over my head. A simple jump would suffice to go over them. I remember worrying severely as I approached one of the men to talk to him.

As I approached one of the bars, getting close to one of the men, I could feel my vision getting distorted. The image in front of me continued shifting as the size and shape of the man before me began to change. Once in front of the bars, I felt the texture of what was before me morph. The bars were now made of a gentle rubber, one I could easily bend without touching. Stretching my hand forward, I felt like I could reach who I still considered to be one of the lookouts, so out of curiosity, I did. I was surprised to find that the man I remembered standing so vividly alive was now made of hard rubber, his size now the same as my hand. As I curiously touched the man-made figurine, it was cold to the touch. However, I didn't think much of it. I just separated myself from the bars, and with every step I took, I saw the space turn back into what it once was—a human-made space, and a real man honoring his position as the lookout of the shore.

In my current frame of mind, I was aware of the lack of safety. Nonexistent or barely available defenses, as well as a lack of ammunition, made the place we found ourselves in dangerous and unsafe. However, for reasons beyond my control and understanding, we were forced to stay on the pier, idle as sitting ducks amidst any attack. There was, however, an escape plan put in place as a contingency, one we hoped we never had to use. In this place, I had a friend, a man I do not actually know in reality, but at that moment, it felt as though there was a friendship of the highest degree among us.

I remember that, just as we wanted to prevent, the worst had inevitably happened. The pier was raided, and as the chaos began, a multitude of men and women deemed soldiers at the time, instead of bearing arms, began to flee in a desperate frenzy in every direction. The contingency plan in their minds was only an afterthought as they ran past me. I stood my ground among the people who seemed to pass straight through my body without actually touching me.

I was looking for my friend, one I would never get to see, as the vivid image in my head scanned the faces of those running around me. With the escape plan in shambles and many of the men running for their lives, our capture was an inevitable fate we had to face.

My eyes saw light again. This time, I found myself strapped tightly to a rather small seat. Two others, wearing the same outfit as I, sat beside me in silence. My chest was tightly strapped in, as were my hands. I could move them together, but not significantly. I could see the environment we were in; from an angle, I could tell we were in a place of high altitude. We had a window beneath our feet, showing us a brief image of the outside. From it, I could see that our room was several feet above a giant rocket. I could see the exact center of the pointy rocket as it stood idly, sending out sporadic sprays of gas. The walls around me were a deep pale white; every inch of the place was painted uniformly. However, I could still see the shape of some of the environment protruding from the walls. The silhouette of the patterns in the wall was painted a subtle gray, just enough to tell their shape. It seemed more like a tower of operations or a laboratory.

From behind us, a woman dressed in grayish white presented herself. Only talking to the lady next to me, she stretched her arm, leaning closely towards her face, close enough that I could listen to what she said. The details were muffled, but it was something along the lines of us going to die. The way she referred to death, as such a simple task, a mundane occurrence in her life as she stepped away, made me believe this wasn't the first time she had said something like this. Regardless, I could see the looks of panic in the ones next to me. Quickly, a sense of sadness and worry overcame me as I felt warmer-than-usual tears falling down my face. In that time, with the lack of information and understanding of everything that had transpired, the moment turned way too vivid to tolerate. It was such that a wave of dread and reality overcame me. I believed that this was, in fact, my end, as was that of the ones next to me.

Now understanding and coming to terms with the fact that my life would soon be forfeited to them, I attempted to plead with the woman in white to allow at the very least a way to end without pain of any kind, something she could more than likely provide if any compassion ever existed in this unknown entity before me. However, that question would never be answered, as my eyes opened once more to the sound of a TV running at low volume and some sweat above my forehead.