Dreamer’s Note: So, I haven’t been recording my dreams lately (bad, I know), so this one is one that I wrote about a few months ago. The details are hazy so I’m just going off of what my half asleep past self was able to jot down.
It was a brisk evening for a walk, but I didn’t mind. I followed the path in the park to where it curved around a large grassy area. I wasn’t really paying attention when a man stopped me. His expression was frantic, or maybe angry, but he gripped my left arm so tight that I gasped from both shock and pain while I struggled, to no avail, to get it free. With his free, left hand, he threw a wide punch at me, which I reflexively blocked with my right forearm (thank you karate lessons).
He froze for a moment with a dumbfounded look on his face, unsure what to do next, as he’d never been stopped this way before. Luckily, I was able to flip him onto his back, using his own grip on my arm against him and pulling his tall but average frame over my shoulder and onto the walking path. His grip slacked on my arm, clearly stunned from the maneuver and I dropped a knee into his chest and began punching.
With the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I wasn’t able to get an accurate read on exactly how long I was punching him, or exactly how little I was holding back. Eventually, the man stopped fighting back altogether. Weary it may have been a trap, or that maybe I had gone a hair too far, I slowly got off of my attacker and watched with relief as I saw his chest slowly rise and fall as his lungs filled with air.
Without thinking about it too much, I turned and ran down the path, the way I came from, fumbling for my cell phone to text the police. I didn’t even know the number I would need to text, so thinking better of it. I dialed 9-1-1.
I found a large gray electrical box to hide behind and I ducked out of site of the man, but not too far that I wasn’t able to see him if I had decided to peek my head around the box. When the operator answered, I whispered into my phone that I had just been attacked. “I was able to incapacitate the guy, but I’m afraid that when he gets up, he’ll be after me,” I didn’t dare speak any louder than a whisper, fearing that my now unconscious assailant might wake up and figure out where I was if I was too loud. I continued to explain to her that I was on campus and that I was hiding behind an electrical box looking thing near gate 14.
When the operator responded, it wasn’t at all what I had expected. She told me that she’d call it in, but she had to use the restroom first. Confused and frustrated, I told her to hurry, before hearing the click of the receiver and the line going dead.
I crouched with my back leaning against the cold metal box, not daring to peek around the corner to see if the man was still there. A few minutes felt like hours as they passed, and nobody walked down my path. Nobody was coming to my aid. Finally, a woman with curly red hair appeared down the path, near the gate marker 14. She was walking with a man and they were heading straight toward where I had knocked the guy unconscious. I wanted to warn them, to warn her, but I couldn’t muster the courage to move or speak.
I peeked around the corner to see if the man was still there, he was. Lying as still as when I left him, only his chest rising and falling. I let out a soft sigh of relief, but it was too soon. I saw the man begin to move and get up, and suddenly all the reluctance that had kept me frozen vanished. I sprinted toward the two of them, not even realizing that the man she had been with was nowhere in sight. When I got close enough to see and hear what was really happening, I stopped dead in the path. In my attacker’s hand sat a small revolver. He had it aimed at the woman, who was not at all defenseless while she aimed a pistol of her own at him. In a loud, commanding voice, she was shouting for him to drop his weapon.
I took a few small steps back, hoping none of them noticed me. As she shouted again, I saw the man she was with appear out of the bushes with a pair of handcuffs. He parroted the woman, telling the man to drop his weapon, and at this point, he finally does. He handcuffs the attacker and I wonder if these could be the 9-1-1 responders, even though they were wearing civilian street clothes. As the woman passed by me, I thanked her, and then she turned away from me and thanked another redheaded woman, who I hadn’t noticed, for being a decoy.
“How weird.” I thought to myself before waking up.