I had 2 very different dreams last night. I won’t analyse them; just simply tell the two stories as they happened.
I was away with work at a conference in Italy. We were in a really big building, and late in the evening I went downstairs to check our stuff in the lobby. Two men dressed in black had broken in and were going through our bags. I crept back upstairs and tried to call 999, but my phone’s buttons weren’t in the right place and I couldn’t get through.
I borrowed my colleague Al’s phone, called the police and said there were two people downstairs who had broken in and were now stealing our things. The police told me that it wasn’t the kind of thing they normally dealt with but they would send somebody from the council round in the morning. I argued but they didn’t listen, and by the time I’d got off the phone the two intruders had left. They must have been disturbed as they’d left a lot of our stuff behind, including laptops.
After a lot of talk from my boss, which included the allocation of sandwiches, we decided to pack up and return home. I then discovered that my boss had used my open laptop as a sandwich tray; it was covered in mayonnaise and curry sauce – all over the keyboard. Al helped me clean it up.
The dream then shifted to outside. I was outside the building alone, loading my new car up. My new car was strangely enough a orange and white 1970s Volkswagen Beetle, This is actually a car belonging to a very good friend of mine – I have no idea why it was mine in the dream (I don’t even like it!).
Anyway, I finished loading my car up and decided to get in and sit down. I hadn’t been sitting down long when a black car screeched to a stop outside the building next door. Three people dressed in black and armed with machine guns jumped out and opened fire at the glass-fronted building. It was a hairdressers, but was empty as it was late at night.
After they had gone in, Al came out and wandered across to see me. I frantically told him to get in my car and get down. He did, but they must have seen the interior light come on as they came out and started shooting at my car. The police must’ve heard about it because I heard sirens and the gunmen jumped in their car and sped off. My poor car was shot to bits, every window was shattered and the body was full of holes. Al suggested turning the windscreen wipers on, so I did, and they somehow wiped away the damage.
The police came over to me and said they had found my old car, but unfortunately it had been torched. It turned out it had been taken for a joyride then set on fire to destroy any evidence. I was gutted as it’s currently on eBay with bids on, and I needed the money.
I asked the police why they hadn’t gone after the gunmen, but they replied that they don’t deal with things like that, and that the council would investigate it in the morning.
We decided to head straight to the airport and get home. I couldn’t program the sat nav, the buttons kept moving. I started to get really stressed, Al was trying to calm me down, and that was when I woke.
I was in bed, spooning with my boyfriend when I realised I had a really painful side. I worked out it was where he had hold of me. I tried to wriggle out of his grip but he was holding me too tight. I started to panic, and was hitting him trying to get him to let go. I was jerking my body around trying to get out of his vice-like grip.
Finally I succeeded. I went to the mirror, lifted my pyjama top, and saw a horrible bruise, very dark purple and yellow. I showed my boyfriend, and he looked shocked and said how sorry he was and how bad he felt. He wanted me to go to him for a cuddle. I did, and his hand went straight for the bruise and gripped it really hard. I cried out in pain and the last thing I remember before I woke was the agony of his fingers breaking through my skin.