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#351 - why can't it be just a dream?
02.11.04 @ 9:27 am

I'm lonely and scared and confused. I dreamed sm and I were in her room and she asked if it was ok to do something with the security system of the building, transfer it to her laptop or something. I said I didn't care, and she went to the door.

Before I could protest that I was half naked, she had opened the door. And there were a bunch of college-aged men out there with no shirts on. And she said something like, "Here she is."

And I knew exactly what was about to happen.

I ran outside to the balcony, shutting the door and starting to shout for help. You know how some people have dreams about running, and their feet move to slowly? When I dream about screaming, I dream my voice gets so high pitched and warbled that no one can understand me. I was trying to say, "Rape!" and for some reason trying to tell anyone to call my husband's cell phone number. And every time I said it, it sounded unclear to me. And then I started to get the numbers wrong. And then I couldn't remember the numbers right. And then I realized it didn't matter because no one could undertstand me. And then I realized it didn't matter because no one was out there. And then I wondered, where was everyone? Hadn't there been people out here before? Where were they now? Had they really been there? Or had they gone inside?

I woke up shouting for my husband to tell me his cell phone number, because the dream had changed to me asking it from him, and him laughing that I didn't remember and telling me to just press this button. He didn't understand that on the balcony, I didn't have my own phone to hit redial.

I wake up from these dreams and I'm still living them. Trying to figure out what I should have done. I should have jumped from the balcony. I should have tried to jump to someone else's balcony. I should have broken the window to make a weapon for myself. I should have broken the window to cut my wrists enough to bleed to death, forcing them to let me die or get me to a hospital.

I just couldn't help from crying. The horror of it. That no one was helping me. That someone would do this to me.

I don't know what scares me more. Being raped, the idea of being raped, the idea that I won't be able to help myself if I'm being raped, or the idea that no one will help me when it's happening.

It's been a half hour. Why can't I stop thinking and analyzing this dream? Why can't I stop crying? Why can't I stop thinking about that time when I was 10 and I realized my mom's friend driving by who ignored my calls for help because a friend was on top of me in a game, and I just went catatonic with the realization that he wasn't going to help me despite how much I screamed. Even if I'd been laughing 30 seconds ago.

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