MP40 Suicide Dream

I don’t often remember my dreams, sometimes I wonder if I dream at all.  But then my brain decides to do some crazy thing whilst I’m asleep and it leaves me wondering what the dickens is wrong with me.

I spent the day at my parent’s house yesterday and got back around 10ish.  There wasn’t exactly much time to do anything particularly productive so I wrapped myself up in bed for an hour or so reading the Adventure Time Vol.2 trade paperback before getting out of bed, getting ready for bed and clambering back into bed again for a decent night’s sleep.  I drifted off fairly easily, which is always nice.

During the first few hours of sleep though, I had a rather crazy dream.

I’m not entirely sure of the circumstances or setting of my dream, whenever I dream I have a habit of just popping into the middle of something.  Last night, I popped into the middle of some sort of war scenario.  My surroundings were urban with large buildings on either side and plenty of area to take cover, I seem to remember the cover being primarily cardboard boxes (which in the real world would be fairly useless, but this is my dream world we’re talking about here).  I distinctly remember the sky being a deep red/orange colour, the kind you’d expect in some sort of apocalyptic wasteland.

I was in cover and under heavy fire.  My children (I don’t have children in real life) two boys, both of which were coloured (I’m white) were also under fire in cover slightly closer to the enemy.  We were in retreat.

I yelled to my boys to stay where they were while I sprinted to cover further back, bullets rained down on me but I successfully dived behind a large stack of cardboard boxes.  Yelling back to the boys I instructed them to fall back, which they did.  Three long bursts of gun fire caused me to turn around and bury my face into the dirt (a well known safety precaution whilst under fire).

After the bullets stopped flying for a brief moment, I poked my head up to see one of my boys shouting at the other “YOU’RE WEAK!” as an enemy ran round the corner behind them.  The enemy took a shot at the elder of my sons, the one shouting, and clipped his leg causing him to fall to the floor, he had better aim at my second son who’s chest burst open as he was riddled by the bullets fired from an automatic weapon.  The enemy then fled back to his own troops.

The eldest son, despite having a wounded leg managed to make his way to me and we ran (yes, even with his gunshot wound to the leg) to some more safety, an area that bared a striking resemblance to an area just outside my parent’s house, just a little bit more apocalyptic.

“What do we do now?” asked my son.

“We can’t do anything, we’re done for”  I replied, turning my MP40 towards his head and pulling the trigger.  The gun was empty and the boy flinched slightly as the trigger clicked.

For some strange reason, the boy didn’t even question my actions.  I reloaded.

“I’ve already lost one son, I don’t want to see the other go in the same way.  We end it here.”

In a swift and fluid motion I whipped the now reloaded MP40 towards my one remaining son and pulled the trigger.  A short burst of rounds entered the boys face and exploded out of the back of his skull in a shower of blood, brain and bone fragments.

I then placed the barrel in my own mouth, felt it’s warmth, tasted the metal and smoke.  I pulled the trigger, felt the jolt of several bullets exiting the weapon and experienced them passing through the roof of my mouth and through the top of my own skull.  I remember the feeling of downward motion as my legs gave way and a warm tingley sensation for a split second before everything went black.

That’s when I woke up.

At one point when I was younger I was told that if you don’t wake up before you die in a dream, you die in real life.  I never thought that was true, and have successfully proved that suspicion.

The dream has left me wondering what it actually feels like to shoot yourself though, it’s not something I’ve experienced and I’m sure there aren’t many people who have experienced it that could recount the gory details.  I don’t plan on trying it but I do want to know how it compares to my brain’s imagining, it felt so real and plausible, and left me feeling a bit uneasy for a while before i fell asleep again.

I’d also like to know what this dream means.  I’m in the process of writing a story set in a post apocalyptic world which would explain the setting a bit, the MP40 is a weapon of choice in Call Of Duty: World At War (which I haven’t played for quite some time now) and there is a scene in Adventure Time Vol.2 that involves a vast amount of cardboard boxes.  Also, the “You’re Weak” line probably comes from the season 4 of The Walking Dead which I’ve been watching lately.  Other than those things, there’s nothing that I can relate to my waking life.  What does suicide mean in a dream?  How about witnessing one of your own (imaginary) children die and then killing another, what does that mean?  Any dream specialists care to have a crack at shedding some light on it?

Thanks for reading.

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