robbery

I heard a noise and woke, knowing that someone was in the house. I crept up the stairs and saw two young, fair boys - brothers, about 14 and 10 - in the midst of a robbery. They did not seem in the least surprised to see me, nor concerned; they continued taking my things. I noticed that my computer was missing and, worse, so was the external hard drive on which I back up all of my work and creative projects. I asked them to return it as it was very important to me. They ignored me and went about stealing. Knowing I would have to do something drastic to get through to them, I grabbed the younger boy around the throat and squeezed; not tightly enough to choke or strangle him, but enough that he was distressed, which frightened his brother. Again, I asked them to return my external hard drive. The older boy ran out of the house to retrieve it and, while he was outside, still holding the younger boy firmly by the throat, I called the police. The line was bad and the police seemed not to have a sense of urgency; nonetheless, I told them I was being burgled and where to find the house. The older child returned with the hard drive and I let go of his brother. I could hear voices outside and ventured out into the dark where a gang of youths were waiting. Although they were all involved in the crime, none seemed particularly dangerous. Rather, they seemed to be stealing for thrills, sending the young ones in to collect what goods they might. There were too many of them to counter, so, instead, I acted casually while observing as much as I could, studying the details of their appearances and their vehicles. One young man, barely out of his teens, a big and burly boy with dark, curling hair, cigarette in hand, spoke with me while he waited for the group to reassemble, to leave. I gathered that this was something they'd starting doing regularly to relieve the boredom. He bragged a little, and so doing let slip that they'd robbed someone called Janine twice, and that Charlie had something to do with it. I did my best to appear unperturbed, but committed the names and our conversation to memory. Soon, they all piled into the two cars and sped away. Only moments later, appearing from the opposite direction, the police arrived.

crossing and crocodile

I was driving up a hill and, at the crest, my car came to rest, balancing precariously. The hill was so steep that the car was stuck, see-sawing on top. I left the car and carried on the journey on foot, walking through shallow rock pools, avoiding anything that looked to be dangerous. Soon, I came to a crossing. The police had organised a barricade and were directing traffic across and around it. Still on foot, I reached the front of the queue from where I could see into a deep pit filled with water. One policeman instructed people at the top of the pit, and a second policeman stood on a platform inside the pit, helping people across. A crocodile repeatedly jumped up, out of the water, snapping at the heels of those passing overhead. The first policeman told me that I would have to jump as far as I could, and trust that the second policeman would catch me and help me travel safely to the other side. While I waited for the right moment, the crocodile was leaping ever closer, his mouth gaping wide. I could see that he had no teeth, and his mouth was shaped more like a strange fish. The first policeman grabbed one of my bare feet and held it above the crocodile, teasing it. It was too close for my liking and I struggled free. While the first policeman was busy directing the next people in line, I jumped, without warning, and landed lightly in the arms of the second policeman, the crocodile snapping at me all the while. I was delivered safely onto the other side of the pit, with the crocodile still leaping up out of the water, trying frantically to catch me and eat me.

buried alive

I was watching a television program about an abduction case. It was horrific, although the victim, a young woman, possibly still in her teens, had survived to tell the tale. The program flicked between interviews with the victim, reconstructed 'footage' of the happenings and interviews with the police who had investigated the crime. The perpetrator, a man of about sixty or older, had abducted the girl, and buried her alive in a vault beneath his house that was fitted with a bed, sparse furniture and even some decoration. In the interview, the young woman recollected how, sitting on the bed, which ran parallel to a wall under the low ceiling, with her back to the wall, she looked to her right and saw the cut-out pages of fairytales, particularly Red Riding Hood. The man had selected the most frightening of images of wolves and nightmarish characters to line the walls. She remembered how, in the dim light, she looked around, slowly realising by the strangeness of the air - its gradual depletion - that she had, indeed, been buried. The police talked of how they later found the skins of various reptiles in the man's possession as the camera panned over skin after skin of snakes and lizards. They mentioned that his mind had been affected by drug-use in the sixties. The program also showed a reconstruction of the man's wife and daughter arriving home on the day of the abduction, unaware of his harrowing deeds. They both went into his study, the room from which the underground chamber could be reached. I, somehow, went into the scene and slowly drank a glass of water in their kitchen, waiting for them to come out, knowing that they were about to discover that something was horribly wrong. They walked out of the study and into the kitchen area, stunned, and looked to me for help. I went with them, back into the study, to see the man lurching about. He had a bleeding cut on his forehead from where his wife had hit him with something, and he was ranting about spitting, saying that it was wrong to spit. He staggered toward me and, although frightened and repulsed, I grabbed his hands to steady him, hoping to calm him and sit him back down. He was clearly out of his mind. The worst and most sickening thing about it was that I recognised the man, though now he was disturbingly changed.

seeking the answer

I was in a crowded place. Lots of people that I have known throughout my life were there, as well as many I have never known. It was night time and the crowd was both indoors - inside a vast building - and outdoors in the immediate surrounds. I had already been inside and I was now outside, searching for someone or something. Some of my old friends were sitting at long benches or in dark corners in twos and threes, talking with one another as though in private. I wandered through the grounds and saw more people talking meaningfully with one another, seemingly as though they were trying to find the answer to a question. Suddenly I saw that I still had a burning question that I have carried with me always and that some of these people were the people I looked to in earlier years to find the answer - and they were searching too. I hurried through the crowd, trying to find the key people I have respected deeply in my life, to see if they were here, to see if they knew. I passed old friends and acknowledged them, but didn't stop. Heading toward the stairs that led to the building, I bumped into a tall police officer - a woman who was at least six feet tall - who was walking with another tall police officer - a man of about six four. I joked with them for a moment, feeling so small yet quite confident in their presence, and then continued up the stairs. The male officer walked up the stairs too, to greet his wife who was coming downstairs. She was about my height and was holding a newborn baby. The officer bundled the baby in his big arms and we said goodbye. The crowd heading upstairs had come to a halt so I excused myself and climbed through, urgent to make it to the top of the stairs. There, I could see a group of people I had known in my childhood that I did not really want to spend time with now; I didn't feel comfortable with them or trust them. The leader of the group spied me and immediately starting chasing me. She was only playing, but I sensed a volatile undercurrent. I responded, however, as I hoped to humour her for a moment and then move on to find the people I had come to seek. She chased me into a part of the building that was a maze. I ran around the labyrinth, both trying to find my way and to lose her, confused by the mirrors and many doorways. Finally I found my way through and I set through the crowd once more, looking for my guides.