The dream begins.
I was walking towards a large campus of low buildings, crowded with many people inside and out. These are schools, elementary, junior, and senior buildings all in one place. The weather is neutral. Some folks are sitting on a low hill in the grass. All of the bathrooms were empty. No one wanted to use them because every room, every stall was polluted and broken. I walked among throngs of people outside; no idea what the gathering was for. A young woman approached me, her mother sat on the grass watching impassively. The young woman was shorter than me, her face round and young, her blonde hair long, very long, down to her coccyx, natural and wavy, recently unkempt. She said she needed help, she needed to get back home. She was calmly distraught, if that can be a thing. A great deal of the dream was me asking for her name, what is wrong, where are you from, but she wouldn’t answer. We kept walking through the crowds. Finally, she brought out a picture from her pocket, a printed piece of paper and showed me an infant in a high chair, head and face bloody, a knife through the top of his head. She said she needed to get back to him and see if he’s okay. Instead of recoiling and hating her, I could only feel a low, deep sense of need. She was in trouble and needed help. I put my hand on the small of her back and guided her towards one of the buildings to see if we could find “somebody” which I assume to mean “authority” to help us. On the way I asked where she’s from, no answer. Every teacher I asked for help said, “She’s not in this school, sorry.” In between jostling through crowds in the halls, looking for someone to ask for help, she confessed that she hit him before, the law knows about her, and she can’t ask anyone for help because of all the trouble she’ll be in. She just needed to get home, please help me. No tears. I stayed with her. Finally I came to a tall person in a white-shirted uniform. Seems he knew the situation with her from what through rumor and threadbare facts. And then nothing. The dream ends without me knowing what happens to the girl.
What strikes me most about this dream is that I can see her clearly, her mother stayed behind while I led her away, that I feel empathy towards someone who apparently murdered a child, and that she showed me a picture she (or someone) took, and printed on a piece of paper. I woke in the middle of the night recalling this dream, thinking, “are you kidding me? really? did this really just happen?” I spent some time with the dream before returning to sleep, soaking in details and I knew (somehow) I’d remember it in the morning. What does it mean for me now?
