Sleep, but Never Rest

I remember being in a room at some sort of government agency.

I had slightly shorter hair, styled, with a little more volume. It was dyed slightly lighter with subtle highlights. I was wearing make up. I was dressed in a white button-up shirt with a knee-length black skirt, dark pantyhose, and black high heals.

I was dressed up because I would be interviewed in court and on TV.

I was normally respected in the agency, but recently was suspected of something bad (I don’t remember what it was, but I remember being confident I would not face jail time or be fired because I was innocent). Although I was good at my job, several colleagues were mad at me because of a decision I made during a project.

I walked around the room - it was similar to a newspaper office were it was open, a conference table in the middle and a couple of desks with computers lining the walls. There was a computer lab for training and a conference room next to it. We were at least on a second floor, maybe higher.

I remember anxiously pacing the room looking into the training lab full of people and the meeting happening in the conference room. The white blinds were partly drawn and coworkers glared at me every once in a while through them as if they were talking about what to do with me.

I was full of energy and bored so I started to sing random songs like “Frere Jacque” and “100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall”. Once I got down to 96, I thought I would restart the song and sing it in German.

That’s when the meeting ended and people left the conference room to talk to me.

The next thing I remember is sitting on a stool outside the building at night and I was being prepped for a TV news interview. There was a camera on a tripod, a camera man, a sound guy with headphones and a boom mic, a reporter, and portable lights.

They put a mic on me and started doing mic checks. There was an airport nearby and I could see the silhouettes of planes landing, lit from behind by the city lights reflecting orange off of the clouds. Others were flying so close to us, it seemed as if they were about to crash.

The planes were loud and it was a busy and large airport with a plane landing and taking off every 30-60 seconds.

I asked them if they’d be able to hear me over all the planes.

Just then, we heard a very loud plane. I looked toward the noise and saw a large passenger plane come in from the right and crash into the building I was just in on the left. The building and plane exploded on impact.

The camera man picked up the camera and started shooting the damage.

I called 911, but I don’t remember what I said. After I gave them the location and what happened, I hung up and started getting into my camera app on my phone.

That’s when another plane came over the hill and seemed to react to the burning wreckage and tilted left to avoid it, but the plane’s left wing hit the ground and was torn off, causing the plane to roll left and over the cliff that the building was located on. A large plume of fire and black smoke came up into view when the plane exploded. I ran (in heels) to the edge of the cliff and started taking pictures. I went over and took photos of the building fire.

Then, ANOTHER plan came over the hill and reacted the same way, but tilted right and got the right wing taken off when it hit the ground. The plane rolled upside down and exploded on impact when it also hit the building.

Later, people were consoling others saying they died instantly and it was their time to go. My coworkers in my dream kept joking that I attract disaster and that no wonder I was in photojournalism.