I had a really unusual dream.
Normally my dreams are very exciting in a good sense. Often filled with happiness. But sometimes I get somber dreams.
I had a dream that I was the cause of a war (much like Helen of Troy, but alas, not because of staggering beauty), and that I had to go to war against a mafia family.
It's hard to explain, but the same war kept happening over and over again in the one dream. The result was the same: everyone on my side of the family died, myself included, even though it wasn't explicitly shown in my dream. But that same sequence of events and results repeated over and over, at least three times.
Then, there seemed to be a disturbance that interrupted the endless cycle.
The fourth time the war began, there was a much more in-depth coverage on it in my dream. Before I actually went to war, I could see that I was very solemn and did not want to leave my aunt's side, because she is naturally the person who is most important to me. Everyone in my "army," I suppose, gathered and found their loved ones, and we all bade them farewell. Somehow, I lingered behind and cried because I didn't want to go to war, because I knew I would die, because that was the result of the three previous cycles. I deliberated hiding myself so I wouldn't have to go to war. However, a strange thought struck the me in the dream: if I did not go to fight the war (which I was inexplicably the cause of), which was at its last battle, then what would my comrades think of me?
Somehow, the notion of being hated and belittled by others/my comrades/family was even more distressing than dying itself, so I formed my resolve and went to the battlefield, which isn't really a battlefield. Let me try to explain the setting...
The battlefield is pretty much like a grass-less stadium, with two scoreboards. One on each end of the stadium. The ground is flat and made of concrete. Gray. My army/comrades are gathered at the west end of the stadium. I recognize everyone as members of my family or close friends in real life. On the east side of the stadium is the mafia. ...This is the kind of funny part. A lot of the mafia consists of Slytherin people. HERE COMES THE HARRY POTTER REFERENCES.
Okay. So.... everyone is dressed in the traditional black robes of Hogwarts students. Except my team also has this crest of Gryffindor colors (red and gold), while the mafia consisting of Slytherins have crests of green and black, DUH.
All of the sudden the battle begins and people from my side charge at the oncoming mafia members. I stay behind, fear still gnawing at my heart. Listed on the two scoreboards on the east and west side are names of each army's people. As people die, a strike visibly goes through their name on the scoreboard. It was déjà vu as I watched in horror as more and more of my comrades got their names crossed off. Finally, when it was down to six (I think) people on my team, something in me changed and I just well... tore straight across the battlefield. Each person was dealing with one adversary, and mine just happened to be Draco Malfoy (wtf?).
Somehow there came a point where both teams decided to call a temporary truce/break/half-time and the fighting was disengaged as each team regrouped. At that point, the me in my dream found it rather strange, because I felt a tiny, growing optimism--a little shred of hope--that we might actually be able to survive the slaughter. That was because, at this point in the previous three cycles, I was already dead! But this fourth cycle was different.
Unfortunately, I got woken up shortly afterward, so I have no idea whether I managed to stay alive or not.
And you guys probably found it funny that Harry Potter characters and elements were part of my dream, but I honestly felt really scared and sad in the dream... (that I was going to die and never live to see the people I loved).
As you all must know, I love to analyze my dreams to find relevance to reality.
How did this dream come about? I am not too sure, but it probably has something to do with my constant worry for my aunt and loved ones in general. I can't help but feel afraid, very often, of what will become of me if the people I love leave me. Forever.
I swear I have not read a single Harry Potter book since... the year the Deathly Hallows came out. And I stopped watching the movie series after the fourth movie. But I suppose that the Harry Potter chronicles mean a lot to me--a lot more than most other book series.When I was looking at my bookshelf yesterday, trying to find room to usher five new magazines into the magazine section (which shares the same shelf as my most sacred books--home to the Harry Potter series), I was surprised to discover that all but one book from the series was there--I was missing the Deathly Hallows. Like, what the fuck? It came as a shock to me because I remember very clearly that when I ordered it (which was a long time ago), I accidentally ordered two copies and kept both. I pondered it for a while and forgot about the whole missing-book incident, or so I thought, but no...
The Harry Potter series found its way into my dream.
And as to how I was the cause of the war in my dream? Well... the night before, at dinner, my parents got into an argument and I felt bad because it was about me. My dad, being ignorant, chastised my mother for not cooking shrimp "for me," when he didn't even realize that I wasn't even fond of eating shrimp (while my mother knew). So then they started arguing because my mother felt like my father was wrongly accusing her, which he was, although he vehemently denied it. And so that's probably why my brain decided to process such sentiments into my dream.