Dreaming of a boy who lived...
Oct. 3rd, 2008 01:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
saifaiNot Harry Potter though, but just someone who lived through extraordinary circumstances. You know me and my dreams, well at least some of you do. For those that don't, I tend to dream in films. All my dreams are like watching films. Some of them even come with soundtracks and sound effect scripts.
This one from last night though was one I will likely never forget. I think it's the most disturbing dream I've ever had. I won't tell you the bit that bothered me the most, but the story leading up to it was interesting.
I dreamed of a boy and his family. He traveled with his mother, and his younger brother. I didn't ever see much of the brother. The boys were both teenagers, but I saw things from the oldest. He was approaching 20. He was as independent as a boy his age would be.
He loved his mother. She was a bit of a flake at times, though he understood her in a way no other could. He loved her all the more for it. She'd been through so much in her life, and yet she still pressed on trying to make a go of things on her own.
They traveled a lot. Just his mother and her two boys. They never stayed in town for very long. Each town delivering it's own supply of new customers before the well dried out and they were forced to move on again.
The boy was met with quite a bit of scorn throughout his life. His face was scarred, though he never liked to think about it. The scar ran from his hairline all the way down the left side of his face, between his eye and his nose, down past his collar.
He knew what the people in town thought of them. They were trash. They were likely criminals. They were to be met with suspicion. They weren't to be trusted. They weren't to be allowed any respect. They were beneath everyone in town. Everyone would remind them of this any chance they got.
Then one day his life came to a halt. His mother and brother had been murdered. They were both gone. He was frantic. He didn't know what to do. He was lost without them. He had so much to go through and to accomplish and they had to be buried properly and he didn't know how to do it and...
But there was nobody there to help them. The people of the town were up in arms over the incident. Yet nobody thought to give a care for the boy who'd just lost the rest of his family. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to leave. He had to get out of there.
There was a meeting in town at the town hall to discuss what had happened, and what needed to be done. They forgot he was even there. Forgot that he was as much a part of this as they were. More.
He marched to the front of the room. Pushed aside the self-important man blustering his way through false platitudes. He took over the microphone and glared at them. He looked them over with as much disdain as they had ever given him. He took a breath and started speaking.
"I know you all don't think much of me, and after I'm gone you likely won't even remember me. But there's lessons to be learned here, and if you remember anything in your life, let it be these three things..."
I never got to hear what it was though, as at that moment he finally remembered how he got the scar. He let the pain color his words to make a stronger impact. This was what his life had led him to, and it was all for a thoughtless sacrifice. It was all for nothing.
It was what I saw when he got that scars that will forever haunt me. My soul screamed out at seeing it. It was only a flash, but it was enough.
And then I woke up.
This one from last night though was one I will likely never forget. I think it's the most disturbing dream I've ever had. I won't tell you the bit that bothered me the most, but the story leading up to it was interesting.
I dreamed of a boy and his family. He traveled with his mother, and his younger brother. I didn't ever see much of the brother. The boys were both teenagers, but I saw things from the oldest. He was approaching 20. He was as independent as a boy his age would be.
He loved his mother. She was a bit of a flake at times, though he understood her in a way no other could. He loved her all the more for it. She'd been through so much in her life, and yet she still pressed on trying to make a go of things on her own.
They traveled a lot. Just his mother and her two boys. They never stayed in town for very long. Each town delivering it's own supply of new customers before the well dried out and they were forced to move on again.
The boy was met with quite a bit of scorn throughout his life. His face was scarred, though he never liked to think about it. The scar ran from his hairline all the way down the left side of his face, between his eye and his nose, down past his collar.
He knew what the people in town thought of them. They were trash. They were likely criminals. They were to be met with suspicion. They weren't to be trusted. They weren't to be allowed any respect. They were beneath everyone in town. Everyone would remind them of this any chance they got.
Then one day his life came to a halt. His mother and brother had been murdered. They were both gone. He was frantic. He didn't know what to do. He was lost without them. He had so much to go through and to accomplish and they had to be buried properly and he didn't know how to do it and...
But there was nobody there to help them. The people of the town were up in arms over the incident. Yet nobody thought to give a care for the boy who'd just lost the rest of his family. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to leave. He had to get out of there.
There was a meeting in town at the town hall to discuss what had happened, and what needed to be done. They forgot he was even there. Forgot that he was as much a part of this as they were. More.
He marched to the front of the room. Pushed aside the self-important man blustering his way through false platitudes. He took over the microphone and glared at them. He looked them over with as much disdain as they had ever given him. He took a breath and started speaking.
"I know you all don't think much of me, and after I'm gone you likely won't even remember me. But there's lessons to be learned here, and if you remember anything in your life, let it be these three things..."
I never got to hear what it was though, as at that moment he finally remembered how he got the scar. He let the pain color his words to make a stronger impact. This was what his life had led him to, and it was all for a thoughtless sacrifice. It was all for nothing.
It was what I saw when he got that scars that will forever haunt me. My soul screamed out at seeing it. It was only a flash, but it was enough.
And then I woke up.
