retro_geek | (no subject)

I rarely remember much of my dreams (the interesting ones, at least), but one scene stands out to me from last night. I was riding on the tube, when suddenly a white man and a black woman burst into the carrige, looking for people to kill. Terrified, I squashed myself up in my seat as small as possible and pretended to be asleep in the hope they wouldn't notice me. But they did. The small, cold, hard end of the barrel of the gun was pressed against against my cheekbone, and I opened my eyes just enough to see it being held by a dry, bony hand with long oval nails painted in fluro orange and pink. I really wanted to turn around and face them properly, so I could plea for at least a chnace to say goodbye to those around me, but couldn't as I was afraid that any movement would prompt them to pull the trigger. Then I woke up.

The one thing that st\ands out to me, is how helpless I felt. I need an element of control.