Troops in Africa January 1, 2003
There is much I cannot remember of this first dream, I imagine because of the pain I was feeling at the time, but also it was quite abstract and seemed very disjointed when I woke up.
I was at my ballet class when several men came to get me and take me away. I was about twelve years old. I’m not sure where they took me, it was a strange place I didn’t recognize. There was a big house by the ocean which we entered and they took me downstairs where I expected I would find myself in the basement.
But it turned out to be a whole different world, which is difficult to explain because it didn’t make sense. There were all kinds of animals like at a zoo. The only animal I really remember seeing was an elephant but I know there were many others. It was very distracting, there were so many unexpected animals it didn’t make sense. I question now if the animals were there for experimentation. There were sand dunes and you could walk out on them and down to the ocean.
Suddenly I experienced a great deal of pain in my forearms, especially the left. I’m not sure what they were doing to me but it was very painful, in fact it was so painful at one point I blocked out everything that was around me. The pain started in my wrist and seemed to be in the veins of my forearm, but not going any higher. The pain finally woke me up at which point it stopped, which was a great relief. This pain seems familiar, like what I experienced before. Perhaps this was what I was dealing with, another scenario when I was in the chair travelling.
I did not want to go back to sleep, laying there with closed eyes, trying to relax. I began to see a movie though I was not asleep, and this was not pleasant at all, but I was helpless stop it. There was a small troop of black men in uniform and they were being fired upon. I made the assumption at the time this was Africa, but I couldn’t tell where. Some of the men managed to get to cover behind a small building, but the last man did not make it.
I could see his face was all mangled and bloody. He was disorientated, not sure where he was and didn’t seem to know what happened to him. He went down on his knees and then was shot in the chest. He fell on his left side, dead. I forced my eyes open and got up, not wishing to see anymore.
I could only wonder what I had just witnessed, and why. These many years later I know my father fought in Africa and am wondering if this had something to do with him and what he may have experienced. This was not a dream, but a vision, a connection on the spirit level. At the time I was just left with confusion, lack of understanding, yet I also realized there was significance to receiving the message. Another thread tying me to a story already written, knowledge I already had, but had stored away in a safe place.
The dreams have all led me to understand my parents were both political, not married to each other, and from different countries. While I have no physical evidence of who they are, dreams/visions like this are proof enough for me.
I say this because these stories I now read many years after going through my journals, discovering they relate to actual events—articles written about my father when I was only a child. The dreams came to me mostly in the 1990s and I made the connections between the two only late last year (2017).
Interestingly enough, the people who I believe are my true parents also began appearing in the news on dates coinciding with several of the dreams I was having. This really made me stand up and take a good look at what the dreams were telling me, still forging the connections of this new reality. I can only ask myself why I would have been given these dreams if they did not relate to me personally in some way. What would the purpose be if I am not connected to these people?
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