Day Dream At Night

Resurfaced Chaos (Dream)

Okay, I decided to tell you about a dream I had about mid July or August, I can't remember. 

It was about 4th of July, I think. Some holiday that involves fireworks.

It was a group of people including Dawson, myself, and a group of my friends and family that I won't bore you with.

Imagine a bridge. A semi-wide, concrete walking bridge going over a river. We were all gathered, laying across blankets and pillows wee had piled up in a makeshift, temporary campsite. Waiting on fireworks, we all joked around and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. 

The sky was in that short period of time where the sun has set yet it was a pale orange and yellow on one side of the sky, and opposite it was a dark gray that seemed to swallow everything. It reminds me of when you are having a bonfire at night, and you look at the base of the fire, where the source wood burns, and your eyes trail upwards towards the night sky. That gradient of yellow, to orange, to red, to blue, to black. It was beautiful. 

Suddenly, there was a huge crash. It sounded like a building falling. The entire ground shook and it seemed like the bridge we were on was about to fall 100 feet into the muddy water below. Everyone was shocked and stared at each other in horror. 

"Get off!" Someone yelled. I can't remember who. 

We split down the middle. Some of us ran toward the park at one end of the bridge, and the rest went toward the woods. (This is not how the bridge looks in real life. This is just what my subconscious wanted it to look like.) 

Dawson and I ended up in the basement of a concrete building. There were no windows, doors, vents, but there were about 30 other people, all of which I recognized as either family, friend, or foe. I don't remember the transition into this part of the dream.   

The ground seemed like it was covered in turf. If you don't know what turf is, its pretty much fake grass that they put down on professional football fields. It looked like a recreation of a scene in mid-spring, with rolling hills, flowers, butterflies, even some people skipping around, and others having a picnic on the grass. 

This scene seemed so perfect, even me dream mind was like, "Wait a minute, something is wrong here."

As soon as my dream-self had recognized the ridiculousness of it, the entire building started shaking. The tremors moved like a ripple through this basement, starting in one corner and making its way the my corner that Dawson and I were still huddled in. Behind these waves of terrain, the ceiling was falling in ice by piece. 

I looked on in horror as people, ones that I knew, were crushed underneath the ceiling. They acted as if nothing was happening. As if they weren't about to die. I compacted myself in the corner and as soon as the terrifying tragedy reached us, just as the concrete ruble from the con caving ceiling was about to crush Dawson and me, I wake up. 

As soon as I wake up, I grab my phone and see a good morning text from Dawson, sent not 10 minutes before, so I knew he was okay.  

It's been months since I had this dream, and I don't know what caused it, but it has left an imprint on my memory.