Talk:Nightmares & Dreamscapes/@comment-6600824-20130428170947

I had another dream just last night that was worthy of this site.

I looked up from the ground where I was laying and realized that I was in a boardinghouse. A woman sat at the front desk, and I asked her where I was supposed to go. She looked at me with a piercing glare. "Get back in the field!" she spat, and she pointed a plum fingernail in the direction I was supposed to go. Moments later (in real time), I was done with my work and was walking back to my room when I saw a friend of mine (we'll call him Nate) being beaten in the front yard of the boardinghouse. Many others were watching as a man made an example of Nate. I ran over to him and got him up off the ground. As he pulled me into a hug, he looked like he was near death. The man who was beating him yelled, "What are you doing? He has done wrong!" I turned to him. "He is a friend from my old school, before I came here." The man just walked away from us. "Thank you." Nate whispered.

FLASH FORWARD

Suddenly, Nate, me, and a few more of my friends (Kit, Sawyer, Delanie, and Gabriella) were in a dark room, leaning up against a chest filled with food. Gabriella was telling me not to leave as I slid a panel out from the floor. Nate grabbed my hand. "No. Don't do it! They'll kill all of us!" I let go and shook my head. "They are going to do that anyway." I got down from the room and heard a little boy's voice say, "Daddy, I know where they are. I know." I darted into the nearest closet, covering myself with sheets. The door opened and I looked out, but there was a man in a moustache pointing a gun at me.

Without me waking up, the dream started over immediately, with the sound of a single shot echoing. It was the same until I was hiding in the closet. I was not found, so I switched hiding places. Eventually, Nate, Gabriella, Kit, Sawyer, Delanie and I escaped.

The last thing I remember is me talking to what was apparently my kids about the incident. Upon waking up, the following words were the only thoughts I could dwell on:

"...I think it was Bergen-Belsen..."

I had experienced the Holocaust first-person.