I didn’t sleep well last night. I think I was too busy worrying about my Thanksgiving leftover supply. It’s running low.
So, it’s been about twelve hours since I woke up, so I’ve forgotten a lot of details, but here’s the gist of the dream I had last night.
For whatever reason, there’s a group of children (6-10 years old) that are basically having a war. Camouflage, facepaint, automatic weapons (yes, real ones). A small group (four or five) have found some sort of natural cavern up high. It has a fairly large but not very rapid stream running through it, and a large opening (through the side, not through the floor) lets the water flow out.
These four or five kids have a leader, who is small and young even for their age group. He’s decided that war and killing is bad, and that they shouldn’t do it any more, and he has convinced his three or four followers that this is the right idea. So they’re up in their little hideout, peacefully not shooting each other, when another kid finds his way in. He’s still armed and aggressive, but after much tension, somehow they win this new kid over, too. He starts to warn them that he was a scout, and more armed kids are coming soon and that they should run.
Unfortunately, he didn’t convince them fast enough, and the other kids come in and start shooting. They kill all the peaceable kids (except the new one), and somehow among the confusion and with the new convert shooting at them, all the warlike kids get killed, too. That leaves the newly converted anti-war kid alone, surrounded with his dead new friends and his dead old friends (some of whom he had personally shot), filled with guilt and horror. He puts his gun under his chin and pulls the trigger, but he’s too small to get it in a straight line, and it goes through his jaw without killing him. He crawls to the opening where the water flows out and is getting ready to jump, and then I woke up.
So yeah. That wasn’t a very pleasant dream. What the hell did I eat?