before we begin, if you're someone who is sensitive to the topics below (highlight them to read), I suggest that you skip this blog post. don't worry ! I'll probably have a crazy dream again in two days' time !! also, this isn't as long as it looks.
okay, so, trigger warning for: shooting, general mention of death as well as somewhat detailed descriptions of it, heavy mention & presence of religion, related figures, & motifs. (& a vaping magpie /j)
the dream opens in a church, with nothing on its floor, save for a bunch of people (enough to fill a room I guess), who are laying on their stomachs. some of which are schoolmates, although I don't seem to know any of them. I am laying towards the top-left corner of the room, the attention drawn away from me by a stage. a door is to my left, however it is closed, & likely locked.
we are laying on the floor anticipating a shooter coming in. we knew that most of us were to die. perhaps we were trying to play dead.
regardless, I was lucky enough to be near a bishop or perhaps a priest; who bravely started praying out loud to jesus & god, asking for them to keep us safe, & protect us from this shooter. begging for our lives, almost. hearing this, people began sitting up & raising their praying hands towards the ceiling before laying down again. I did the same, & could feel an intense tingling from my crown to my toes. (though strangely nowhere in-between). closing my eyes again, I could see that golden circles were enclosing those who raised their hands, with a red circle around the prayer leader. but someone else was there too.
it was jesus, also encircled in red.
some time passed & two other girls & I started whisper-chatting to each other from across this church. eventually I moved away from the bishop & towards them. we ended up sitting cross-legged & talking about how we all were wearing some sort of neon-orange?
then the door opened.
we dropped to the floor with everyone else.
I must've been the last, since the shooter came up behind me, pressed the small, round muzzle of his rifle to the middle of my back, said "sorry, I saw you first." & shot me point-blank.
I could feel my life draining onto the church floor.
I could feel myself losing all sensations in my body, withdrawing from the outside in.
I could feel my soul leaving this church.
everyone else in this church was worried about going to hell, & when I got to the afterlife, somebody asked me about it, & them. I told this somebody "they don't realise that hell isn't real". I can't say it was heaven either. just an indifferent, grey-scale afterlife. like a holding room, almost.
being shot first was strangely merciful, as, back near the bishop, I'd thought to myself "oh my god! I don't want to hear others being shot! I don't want to feel such terror & dread!" except then I was saying it with the idea that I was going to make it out alive.
but I was.
some time passed again, & back on the church floor, likely with the shooter still around, I kicked my leg up violently.
I was still alive! everyone had just watched or heard me get shot in the back point-blank & I was still alive.
my sensations returned; I tried touching myself, & it went from a feeling of me-touching-not-me to me-touching-me again. I kept laying there pretending I was dead for good measure. I was worried the shooter would realise I'd been resurrected & he'd return to finish me off for good. eventually, the storm passed. I don't know how many of us died, but it seems the majority of us made it out.
when we got outside (via the aforementioned door) two girls, perhaps the ones from before, were in disbelief that I was standing there with them. they told me "but, we watched you get killed! how are you alive?"
my response was only: "the lord saved me!"
it was the strongest piece of evidence for jesus' existence that they had clearly ever seen; I could see their internal worlds shifting by their eyes. it was undeniable; that I had been killed, & that I had then been brought back to life.
(& the rest of the dream is irrelevant from there, aside from the part where an old online school classmate, his gorgeous friend standing beside him, was making a magpie vape because he thought it was funny- except the smoke bellowing from its upwards-pointed mouth was more like a chimneys', not a fine wisp. yes, this was in the same dream.)
(reposted from my own bulletin !)