Well… in the dream I had earlier. And it was one of those vivid dreams, I tell you.
I was walking along a street (I forgot the name) presumably to visit our old apartment compound (I remember I was running, like I was late or something) when this person in a bicycle for no reason just shot at me. His bullet grazed my neck and I had a face full of gunpowder burning my cheeks and singeing my eyebrows. Next, he shot at the person a few steps behind me. I only got to see him collapse on the street and see the shooter pedal out of the scene.
He was wearing a yellow shirt, but I didn’t see his face. I also remember him pumping the pedals hard, so as to propel him faster… at me, I suppose.
I didn’t immediately wake up then, although the gunshot was reverberating at my head. I still had time to feel the blood from where the bullet scraped my neck, and see my burned face at the nearest mirror I could find.
It’s just so unsettling, waking up to your near-death experience. I still hurt where the bullet hit me, my ears still hurting from the sonic boom. And it’s unnerving, dreaming this up on my birth week!
published in friendster blog January 6th, 2008