An Alcohol Induced Dream
Do you listen to your dreams, no matter how they come?
"What are our seat numbers?' Glendon Millard called out to his wife behind him as he waited in line in the passageway for passengers to put their carry-ons in the overhead compartments of the plane.
"You are facing it to your left," Judy, his wife, responded, a few feet behind him in the line in the passageway.
Turning around, the image on a male's T-shirt directly behind him pulled him back into his recurring dreams. The memory took over his brain as the pain and fear returned.
"Where is the boarding pass?" he asked anxiously.
Judy sent it down the line. He took it, reading it as his heart beat rose. Then he read his children's. Fear fueled his fright, and the pain exploded in his body, mind, heart, and soul. He grabbed his carry-on, took his two kids, and forced his way back to the entrance.
"Where are you going?" Judy called out from behind him.
"I changed my mind. I am not going, and I am taking my kids off this plane."
"I know you hate my parents, but it's their fifty-ninth wedding anniversary and we promised we would be there to celebrate with them!" she reminds him.
"My dream is real," he said, his eyes swaying to the male who was in the aisle seat opposite him.
"You mean your alcoholic induced nightmare about the plane you are on crashing!" Fell from the rage she was in, grabbing the attention of the entire interior of the airplane.
He points to the male and says, "That was the bird I saw in my dream, and the number on his wings is the same as the flight number and mine, along with our kids' seat numbers too!" His anxiety barks as he proceeds towards the exit.
"The plane is going to crash?" someone asked in a scream.
"According to his whiskey-induced dream, it is," his wife repeats. Several other passengers bolted up and began taking their carry-ons out of the overhead compartment.
Judy pushed past the passengers and raced after him. Glendon moved as if fire were coming after him.
"You can't take my children away!" she screamed.
Several passengers followed him, creating a frenzy as paranoia took over, and several people began to exit.
Federal Agents were called in.
The plane was evacuated, and Glendon was taken away with his family. Inside a room at the airport, Glendon faced interrogation.
"Alright!" Agent Steven Matthews demanded, sitting across from Glendon around a metal desk, "What did you hide on that plane?" his eyes were on his colleague standing behind Glendon, seated on a metal chair. "That's Agent Oliver Bromwell," he introduced, pointing towards Glendon.
"You know I didn't hide or put anything on this plane because you already checked. Also, my luggage and my entire biography to the fifth generation," Glendon almost shouts, swaying his head to look at Agent Bromwell behind him.
"Damn," Agent Matthews said under his breath, staring at Glendon with a 'caught you' look. "Ok," he relents. "What did you mean when you said the plane is going to crash?"
"Didn't my lovely wife tell you about my alcohol induced dream?" he asked, grabbing eye contact.
"Yes, she did," Agent Matthews admits. "Now, you tell us."
Glendon nodded, took control, and enlightened, "I dreamed I was on a bird. Three sets of numbers ran across its wings, and it had a piece of metal in its mouth with four digits. As we soared across the sky, he stopped suddenly. Then land on a branch of a very high tree, then free-fall to its death."
"Were you still on it?" Agent Bromwell asked, easing from behind Glendon.
"When he landed in the tree, I got off quickly," Glendon stated.
"So, you were the only one on its back?" Agent Bromwell questioned.
"I was the only passenger he could carry," Glendon explained.
"So, what's the connection to this flight you are on?" Agent Bromwell demands.
"As I waited for the passenger in front of me to put away his carry-on, my wife told me the seat numbers for our kids and me. I turned around, and I saw a young male in a grey t-shirt with the same thing I dream about. The numbers are also the same. When I demanded our boarding pass, the flight number was the same in my dream in the bird's mouth and on the T-shirt the young man had on. But not in the same order."
"What does that mean?" Agent Matthews asked.
"Dreams don't walk straight," Glendon said.
"Dreams can walk?" Agent Bromwell mocked, grinning.
Glendon gave him an evil stare and enlightened, "It means that what I dream about can happen differently, but with the same results."
Agent Bromwell eased over and sat beside his colleague. They exchanged glances, then he asked, "I still don't get the connection?"
"The young man had a huge eagle on his grey t-shirt, and the numbers, 31, 32, 33, ran across the eagle's wings. That was our seat number. The flight number was 1113. The bird had 3111 in its mouth. It was the same number on the man's t-shirt. That's how I connect the dots," Glendon explained.
"The numbers spun around. That doesn't mean anything," Agent Bromwell said.
"Are you from this planet? Don't you know dreams are warnings?" Glendon rages.
"True," Agent Matthews said. "Birds do represent airplanes."
"But not all dreams come through," Agent Bromwell protested. "Plus, you were drunk. Who believes in alcohol induced dreams?"
"I will not take that risk, not with my children's lives!" Glendon shouts. "I want my children off the plane with me. I have a right to remove myself and my family because in my culture, the number 3 means dead. The number one means ghosts."
"Ghost and death," Agent Bromwell mocked, laughing.
"We can't interfere in that. That's between you and your wife," Agent Matthews said as they instructed Glendon to leave.
Agent Mathews called out, "What you said about those numbers and their meanings in your culture, is that true?"
Glendon paused, slowly rotated 180 degrees, his eyes on Agent Bromwell, "Cultures are mocked worldwide for their belief; history can prove me wrong."
"Non-sense!" Agent Bromwell cried out.
"I was raised to listen to my dreams. I intend to," Glendon said, walking out.
Judy was too angry to listen to his warnings. Plus, she didn't want to disappoint her parents. Flight 1113 left Howard International Airport twelve hours later without Glendon and his two children, and fifty percent of the original passengers and others who didn't know about what had just transpired.
The Feds had nothing to hold him on.
Hours later, Flight 1113 landed safely at LAX. The plane exploded a few minutes later, before the passengers could disembark, killing everyone!
Do you listen to your dreams?
Thank you for reading this piece. I hope you enjoyed it.
About the Creator
Annelise Lords
Annelise Lords writes short, inspiring, motivating, and thought-provoking stories that target and heal the heart. She has added fashion designer to her name. Check out https://www.redbubble.com/people/AnneliseLords/shop?asc=u
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By Ihtisham Ulhaqa day ago in Motivation
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