I had the absolutely worst nightmare I've ever had last night. I was stuck in a prison camp with my kids and some other people and we were free to walk around the building we were in, which smelled of sawdust and fire but we couldn't leave. The building was filled with power tools and industrial equipment, and some of the walls were lined with old wood paneling.
One of the other prisoners, someone I had become friends with, wanted to rebel, and I was tacitly encouraging him to, even though I was more focused on my kids. So he went into the other room and smashed one of the machines. The minute he did it I became horrified, as did the rest of the group we were captured with.
The lady that was running the building came in to find out who had smashed one of the machines but couldn't figure it out. She would swivel her head left to right looking at all of us and we all stood in silence looking at her. I held my kids close. Finally she grabbed my son Owen and dragged him into the next room. He dropped the little orange feather he had been playing with, this only thing that had been his toy in this camp. I quickly picked it and scooped up my daughter and starting talking in her ear so she wouldn't focus on them taking her baby brother and I was twirling the feather in my fingers trying to interest her in it: "Owen wants you to have this honey. He said you could play with this for a little while..." over and over again and I pressed my other hand against her ear so she wouldn't hear him scream when they killed him. And I cried and cried and cried. I heard one of the power tools start up and I woke up just as he was screaming while they killed him.
I woke up crying. There were tears running down my face and I felt weak all over. I went and found Owen and just held him for a while and cried in the middle of the night. I've never had a nightmare so horrible as that before.
