shanmonster | The Dream

The country has been taken over by a group of people bent on putting the populace on mood-controlling drugs, including Prozac. Although most people are fine with the promises of all the drugs they can stand, a few pockets of resistance exist. I'm one of the insugents, and I've taken to the woods. I'm trying to gather up as many people as I can to fight, but I'm outnumbered, and every time I go to a home, I find everyone has already been drugged and wants to turn me in.

Finally, I'm running through an autumn forest as fast as I can. Behind me is the rumble of jeeps filled with military personnel. I only know of one more person I can join up with, but when I get to the home, I see soldiers taking him prisoner. One of them sees me and gives chase. I run through the forest, but get cornered. A huge man strides toward me. He's the heavy, and he's going to take me down one way or another. The men behind him hold buckets full of pacifying medication. I pull my buck knife from my purse and open it. "Go on, stab me," says the man, but I know it's useless. Why would I stab him when all the others would get me? I hold the knife in front of me, threateningly, and try to back away, but there's nowhere to go. The man steps closer, and fakes a movement toward me. I can tell he's actually trying to get me to stab him. He's trying to kill himself through me without making it obvious to his supervisors.

Escape is impossible. I wish I could fake my own death, but know the soldiers shoot corpses to ensure they're really dead. I consider slashing my own throat for real, and then I wake up.