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In the dream, I'm standing outside, in front of what is vaguely my parents house. Across the street, standing on the porch of a house (which is not the actual house across the street from my parents) were a bunch of kids. There were about six kids, plus one of them was holding a baby. Suddenly, the kid with the baby dashes across the street. Speeding cars whiz in front of and behind the kid, but he makes it across just fine. The kid stops, turns around, and runs back across the street. Faster than I can gasp my dismay, he makes it back through traffic, and I am relieved, but then as he climbs the steps onto the porch, he drops the baby.
The baby starts screaming, of course. One of the girls picks up the baby and runs back to my side of the street. At this point I'm starting to wonder what's going on here, but at least they got the baby away from that reckless boy. Then, the girl holding the baby also drops it. She's short so it doesn't fall far, but it lands on its head and then rolls over onto its back. I rush over to see if it's OK.
The baby has stopped screaming, but it's lying there on its back looking up at me. I see now that the baby is battered and misshapen. I'm disgusted by the crimes, but repulsed by the victim. One of the kids says, "You should try this." He reaches out with two fingers and presses on the baby's head, which makes a nauseating squishing sound.
I grab the kid's hand and pull it away from the baby. "No, you shouldn't do that. Leave it alone." The kid tries to do something else, and I wrestle him back from the baby. I turn to Sharon and begin to walk towards the house. "We should call someone. I'm going to call the police." That's all I remember of the dream.
2007.12.20 at 3:00pm EST
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