Break Through

Through
the years I have misplaced, lost, or had journals stolen from me. I can
only imagine the hundreds of dreams that are lost along with them; this
is why I am so fond of technology. I can now save these journals in
many places and in many forms.

Recently,
I came across some boxes I had stored over ten years ago. At the time, I
used one of these boxes just to temporarily clean off the clutter from
my desk. In the process, I had stored this box with others and had
forgotten about it. Imagine my surprise when I opened the box and found
what I thought I had lost, a journal from 2000-2001.

It
has only been within the past couple of years that I began analyzing my
dreams. I could still go through the following dream, but it would take
a lot of time I am already using deciphering current dreams. As I
record this new-found journal in a digital form, I will be adding them
to my online collection.


Tuesday, March 13, 2001

I
dreamed I was out in a field of brown grass that grew just to my knees.
To the left of where I stood was a dirt road, to my right was a long
line of trees that made up a forest, while between me and the woods sat
an old rusty station wagon, some ten or more yards from me. It seemed
that someone was in the car, and I walked over to look inside. There sat
an old black man in his seventies or older.

He was thin with hard
wrinkles throughout his face; his hands and fingers looked to be
crippled with arthritis. His window was down an inch or two, and the
smell of liquor was strong. Thick trash of beer cans, liquor bottles and
food wrappers lay in his seat and front floor board. His back seat and
the back of the station wagon was filled with clothes, books and
scattered pictures. I was sure this rust bucket of a car was what he
called home.

He
looked as if he had been crying, but now he sat staring forward through
 the windshield. The car looked as if it had been here for some time.
The man never looked over at me nor did it ever occur to me to
acknowledge him. I turned from him and his car and walked away, toward
the dirt road.

When I reached the road, I looked in both directions. To
the left, the dirt road ran parallel with the woods as far as I could
see. To the right many yards away stood a neighborhood. I turned in the
direction of the neighborhood, just stepping onto the road; I heard a
loud smashing noise of glass coming from the station wagon. I turned to
see the front windshield smashed in along with the driver’s window torn
out. I ran over to the car and looked inside. Blood and flesh ran down
the outside of the door, and the old man was gone.

I could tell
something had broken into the car and pulled him out, dragging him off
into the woods. I followed the blood and crushed grass around the back
of the car and to the woods. I stepped just inside the woods but saw no
signs of anyone or anything. I had thought about going in and looking
for him but I was no match for anything that could have moved that
fast.. I quickly headed back to the road.

I
did not run but walked at a fast pace. Whatever had gotten the old man
was far faster than me, and I did not want to draw attention. A paved
road took up the dirt road where the homes began. I went from house to
house knocking on doors but in each case no one was home. After a dozen
tries or more, I came along to a home I knew.

The house was home to a
family whose youngest son was close friends with my sons. I knocked on
the door, and a man answered. I had been expecting the boy’s mother,
knowing she was divorced, and she lived with only her  two children. The
man invited me in and introduced himself as the woman’s ‘ex’. He
explained that his ex-wife had called him overdue to hearing noises
throughout the house. He was in the process of seeking them out but so
far had found nothing. I offered my help which he accepted.

While
searching I told him of my earlier experience near the woods; finishing
my story, we heard a scratching sound coming from a room in the back of
the house. We went inside the room, empty but for a bobcat cub. We had
both searched this room before, and it had been empty. There were no
windows in the room or holes in the walls  which it could have gotten
through, and the door had been closed upon our first inspection.

I
stepped up to the cub which did not seem to be bothered by me. I
reached down, and it allowed me to pick it up. I carried the cub through
the house out to the front yard where I placed it in the grass. It may
have been small, but I was sure it was big enough to find its parents or
take care of itself. Just then the woman of the house pulled up along
with her son.

They got out of the car and came over to me while watching
the cub bound across the yard toward the road and in the direction of
the woods. I explained to them where we had found it, but we still had
no clue as to how it had gotten not only in the house but into the
closed room. The woman invited me back inside while we talked. I
followed her, her son and ‘ex’  into the house.

Inside
we headed for the living room where there was a man sitting on the
couch. I do not know where he had come from or who he was but everyone
else seemed to know him. Standing there we all heard the ceiling creak.
We looked up to see small crack forming from the center spreading
outward. The ceiling began to bulge, and the splintering of the wood
grew loudly. Plaster began to rain down from the ceiling, and I made the
suggestion that we leave the house.

Plaster
and wood dropped down from the ceiling, blocking our exit to the front
door. The woman pointed to a door in the side wall of the living room
and said it lead to a side porch.The woman, her son and I moved quickly
to the door. Her ex-husband and the other man stood there.

“Come on!” I yelled at them.

“We
want to see what’s coming through the ceiling,” the man replied. I
thought this was a foolish move, but I was not going to waste time
convincing him to follow.

As
the three of us  reached for the door, the ceiling exploded. I whirled
around just in time to see an enormous cat’s paw plunge down through the
hole. This was followed by the head of its owner, a male lion. I shoved
the woman and her son through the door out onto the porch. As I went
through last, the lion broke through and landed on the floor on all
fours.

It was so large that it took up most of the room and blocked the
two men from and exiting. As the three of us got out onto the porch, my
first thought was to run but then that would attract the loin’s
attention. To the left on the porch were a large stack of boxes. I
pushed the woman and son around to the back of the boxes and told them
to be quiet.

Once
we were behind the boxes, I noticed that things had gotten quiet, the
only noise was that of the enormous lion breathing hard. I did not hear
anything of the two men trapped inside; my guess was they were frozen by
fear. I looked around and happened to notice my truck parked in the
yard only a few feet from the porch. I stretched out my leg and pushed a
hole through the screen. I then had the two crawl through and head for
my truck.

We got in, and I started the engine. Fearing that the noise
would alarm the lion, I gunned the truck as soon as it started. Luckily,
the truck had been pointing to the road. I jumped onto the road taking a
right out of the yard, remembering the thing back in the woods in the
opposite direction. I glanced in the rear-view mirror to check and see
if the lion had come after us, but it had remained in the house. I do
not know how long I drove but continued until I woke.

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