| It's a warm spring day. The sun is shining brightly through the trees and me and Laurie are having a picnic in the park. The flowers are just starting to bloom and the birds are singing a song that has not been heard since their migration in the fall. We're sitting on a large blue blanket spread out on the nice green grass. There's a picnic basket sitting in the middle of the blanket, like something you would see in a Yogi Bear cartoon.
There are at leas half a dozen other couples having a picnic on this particular afternoon. Other couples walk by through the park and only a few cars are driving on the street. I open the basket and grab a sandwich for myself and one for Laurie while she pours us each a glass of red wine.
Just as we are about to take a sip of the wine, the sound of army trucks overpower the sound of the singing birds. Several trucks pull on the road next to the park and stop. Soldiers come jumping out of the back carrying M-16s and the leashes of attack dogs.
People in the park start to scramble. I see one man, probably about my age, being tackled by one the dogs. The soldier being led by the dog then arrest the man, kicking him a few times for good measure.
Me and Laurie start to run toward the wooded area at the edge of the park. We left everything behind and just ran. This was the day we had all been dreading, the day the Government finally attacked its own people. We finally reach the woods, but there is an attack dog not far behind us.
We run as fast as we can, as if our life depended on it. Today however, it does. We get no more than twenty feet when I hear Laurie scream. I look back to see that she has tripped on a root. “Laurie!” I screamed. “Laurie, get up! We have to keep moving!” I can see the dog closing in.
Laurie gets almost to her feat when the dog tackles her back down. “Laurie!” I screamed again with every breath that I had.
And that's when I woke up. Now I'm lying in a heavily shaded are of the woods, and a pool of my own sweat. Now I remember why I don't sleep much. I keep having these dreams of my beloved, my world, my life. Now nothing more than a memory, a memory of a life long gone. I have no family anymore. I have no one. I have only myself.
I hear dogs in the distance. Are they looking for me? I ask myself. I didn't think they would actually be looking for people in the woods, but I guess they're that worried about loosing control of us. I want to get up and run, but I don't know if that's the smart thing to do. It may just be smarter to lie still and hope that the dog won't detect my scent.
© Copyright 2006 James Armes (UN: jimmyjam at Writing.Com).
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