The Nightmare from Last Night

I had two sets of nightmares. One involved my grandfather (I dreamed about him last night, too) and the other involved one of my best friends that I grew up with but we've grown a part.

And, no, before you ask, I have not played any zombie games or watched zombie movies yesterday.

The first nightmare was about my grandfather.

We were back in his hospital room, watching him die all over again. That was rough enough. After he took his last breath and died, a team of nurses and doctors came in, moved us out of the way, and started to resuscitate him. They brought him back. I looked over at the monitor and saw a heartbeat. I was so excited! My grandfather would live! My family and I gave each other hugs and we were so happy. Then, my grandfather spoke to all of us.

"Who are you?"

He didn't remember anything about us ... who we were, what he was doing in the hospital, nothing. All of his memories were gone. My heart sank. This, to me, was worse than death. He didn't even recognize my grandmother. She tried to get him to remember, and then she started to cry. The doctor suggested putting him in a nursing home because he would need around the clock care. He couldn't even remember how to get dressed. It was so hard to watch. This wasn't the grandfather I remembered. Then, I woke up.


The second dream took place in Augusta. I was with my long time friend, the one I grew up with, and his family. I was visiting because I haven't been to Augusta in a long, long time. I got to meet his wife and say hello to the new arrival. Everything was going great until I heard a bunch of sirens go off outside. We flipped on the news to find that SRS was having some sort of melt down and everyone needed to evacuate quickly. I grabbed the wife by the hand and my friend followed us. We made it to the last helicopter but there was only room for three. I shoved my friend aboard with his family, and before they could do anything the helicopter took off. I stood there and watched, knowing I was going to die, but that they would be safe. He had kids and I didn't. He needed to be with his family. If I was lucky, I would find transport somewhere else. But before I could do anything, the helicopter blew up. I screamed. The fiery wreckage rained down around me. I sank to my knees. I was the one who made them get on that helicopter. I was the reason they died.