Jurassic Dreams

I was working in an elementary school. My position was one within a special ed classroom, and the students with whom I was working were kids from my class in Biloxi, MS.

Sirens, ground shaking, loud noises, and fear were all present. Suddenly I was the sole care-taker of a school full of children; all other adults had been killed by the enormous T-Rex. Luckily I was stationed on the 2nd floor (of 3 floors) with my students because of some confusion with the lunch schedule, and because of that I was still alive and the students around me had not yet been noticed by the carnivorous and hungry dinosaur. I knew that explaining to them what was happening would only cause an uproar, and existing chaos we had because of hand-washing before lunch had stirred up their energy. I calmly tried to quiet them-- I said it was a game, see who could tiptoe to the stairwell without saying a word, and the best people would get awards.

I grabbed some older students that were hiding in corners of the hallway to help me, and as we retreated to the safety of the 3rd floor the massive head of the T-Rex came crashing through the floor. It was a fight for our lives and I watched children become the dino's lunch.

BREAK.

I am alone. I am on a cliff, breathing deeply, nude. Suddenly I am falling freely, wind rushing through my long curls. My body movements become similar to that of a paper dropped off a desk, floating forward and backward in liquid motion. I am flying, and I have no fear because I realize that this action is one my mind and body both know. I have flown before. When I touch ground, I jump upward and allow my body to experience the freedom of falling without fear once again. Over and over I feel weightless as my body falls from higher and higher locations with no anxiety of death.


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When I woke up this morning I was so confused by my dreams from the night before. I had this overwhelming feeling that if I jumped off the balcony upstairs, I would live because floating is now an action inherent to my being.

In 8th grade I dreamed I could breathe underwater. So sure I was, in fact, this was an action my body and mind were capable of, that while in my swimming class the next afternoon I dropped myself into the deep end at the natatorium and swam to the bubbles which had left my mouth, only to find that when breathing them in for oxygen a second time I instead inhaled water and came to the top choking for air.

My dreams are excruciatingly real sometimes. Even logic has a hard time dissuading me that if I think hard enough I can find the answers to my illogical thoughts.

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