I don’t usually remember my dreams, and it doesn’t happen often that I awake from nightmares. But when I do they’re terrible. Maybe only to me, but I usually find I cannot sleep again.
I was sitting with some representative of the government, they were explaining the current situation to me. I was informed (by accident, they were showing me something and inadvertently showed this to me) that the full text of the anthrax letters was never revealed and that I was part of a select group of people who were being specifically targeted by the terrorists as being to blame. In other words, the first letter mentioned me BY NAME as being at fault for the world’s evil and that I needed to pay. That the attacks and the letters were indeed part of a single plan, who’s ultimate goal was to get ME.
This was followed by a first person montage of the planes hitting the WTC, viewed from a million different places street level. Planes dropping from the sky and crashing is an old dream-enemy of mine, made only worse since watching the event actually happen repeatedly on television. I was running repeatedly on the ground as the planes struck again and again.
This was followed by that I can only describe as a surreal, cartoon depiction of my training and life as an assassin, with me killing person after person in a hundred different cartoon-depicted ways. As if Craig McCracken had been hired to explain my life and times to the world, except I experienced the cartoon first hand.
This is when I finally awoke, sweaty.
I hate my subconscious.