When you think about dreams what comes into your mind first?

A hazy, foggy story playing out in your mind with the main character that seems to have a kin-manship with you.

An odd situation that seems to embarrass you every time you dream it.

Or a confusing dream that seems to be telling you something.

It began as a dream, a rather elaborate dream, different than all the others. Every detail of every scene was well structured. Every detail was presented well. And it seemed so real, so real. I would wake up thinking that it did happen, that I had been there in the confusion and danger. The dark stranger had saved me. I had found two loves both different and the same. I had found myself. But then, I'd wake up and realize it was simply a dream. A repeating dream, but a dream nonetheless.

Oh how I wished it were true and not true at the same time, despite the fact that it felt like it was a mix of a terrible nightmare (in the beginning) and a safe haven (towards the end).

Let me explain, now that you are fully confused.

My dream would begin in a mass of confusing chaous. Lights would flash around me and I would start to run, to where I had no idea. I hide behind a wall just as an explosion to my right slammed against a building. The ground beneath me shook with the force of impact. All around me I could hear screaming, shouting and gunshots. I look down and see that somehow during all the commotion I'd gotten something red and sticky splashed across my jeans, blood I realize. I try to wipe my fingers, from the dank stickiness. I finally peer around me and realize that although I hear the screaming and explosions it's nearly deserted around me.

Tall majestic and dark looking buildings hover overhead with their arches and domes.

Suddenly I know I must make a run for it, I can't wait here where the ground is covered in decaying filth. So I hesitantly peer around me and then make a run for the eaves of a building nearby, I don't even look at the building as I hurtle by. As I drop beneath the eaves I can hear and feel bullets barely missing me. And then suddenly, although before there was not a soul, a figure appears across the way. She is small in size and yet with womanly features covered with dirt and grime. As her eyes find me, they seem to lighten for a fading instant. She runs across until a bullet I feel and know it has hit her mortally and something compels me to run over to her and kneel down hits her. She's clutching to her chest a small parcel of small weight and with the last bit of strength she thrusts it into my arms. As she fades she says one last word, "Merci."

An explosion happens right above my head so I do not have time to look at the woman or parcel, so I run back to my hiding place once more instinctively holding the bundle close to my heart. As I catch my breath and press my back against the cold stone behind me, something moves and I realize that it's a hidden door. While holding the bundle still with one arm, I push aside the door to show a dark unknown tunnel, I look behind me at the destruction and know that there is no other way. So I duck underneath just as the door closes behind me. I walk down it curiously careful not to bump the bundle that I now cannot see to check what it is.

Suddenly I hear voices and they are coming towards me. A lantern is held by one of the men while the other is chattering to him with a rifle slung across his shoulder. They cannot see me yet but I can see them. That's when I realize what they are wearing and I remember from a quick glance the woman's clothing. It was definitely not from my era or time. More like the 19th century if I was correct. The men are approaching me and soon going to see me are soldiers of that I can tell. Suddenly the man with the lantern stops as he catches sight of me.

"Que fais-tu ici? Vous n'êtes pas censé être ici, vous saleté!" (What are you doing here? You are not supposed to be here you filth!)

By his angry speaking I fail to reply as I see the other man look at me with a cold calculating gaze. The man with the lantern looks like he's about to shout something else when the other man stops him with the lift of his hand, with his eyes still cold as ice he smiles. A queasy feeling rushes to the pit of my stomach and my mouth goes dry. I can understand what he says next, just by his evil smirk playing upon his lips.

"Ne pas vous voir? Elle est une femme, une vierge peut-être, nous pourrions avoir du plaisir ce soir." (Don't you see? She's a woman, a virgin perhaps; we could have some fun tonight.)

A shiver runs down my spine and for some odd reason that's when I decide to look down at the bundle I'm carrying, the contents of which make me realize I must escape unharmed or the darling bundle will be harmed. I hope sincerely that its not dead, I hope that its just sleep that causes its eyes to be closed. I hold it closer to my chest and as they approach I back up more and more. That's when I realize that maybe if I yell it could help me or seal my fate but I know I must risk it not just for me and my innocence but also for the life of the bundle.

A scream rips through my throat and reverberates against the walls and I can hear the two men curse under their breaths. That's when the man with the cruel eyes lunges at me I try to get away but I still get toppled onto my back. Although the pain hurts worse than anything I was glad I did not land on my stomach and squash my newly found treasure. But it wasn't the time to be thankful for such it was time to fight as hard as I could especially since now he had trapped my legs.

Then a sickening realization came to me. I wouldn't be able to fight without hurting the treasure. I groan, as I know my chances are slim but a determination wells deep within my soul and with all my strength and might I kick the man upon me in his most sensitive place. He rolls over in pain and I struggle to stand. The other man looks at me with shock written in his face and then he recovers and starts to shout wordless shouts, as he rushes towards me the bundle in my arms finally makes a sound that stops him short.

The small wail bounces off the walls just as my scream did. I make a quick glance down at him. His big blue eyes peer at me with an odd curiosity that is neither scared nor comfortable.

I look up as the man with the lantern makes a short laugh, which is cut short when something black and large blocks my view of him and the lantern. The lantern is distinguished as it's dropped to the ground and heard rolling away. A few gasps and hard punches are heard and then all is quite. A heavy desperate breathing is heard and it takes me a bit of time to realize its me.

"Hello? Umm…is anyone…anyone…" That's when I stop because I realize that I do not know if the figure is a helper or a savior, but as I feel something shift in front me an inner calm sweeps through my body. A long hand grabs my arm and begins to pull me out of the tunnel. I hear stone scraping against stone as what I believe another stonewall is pushed aside. The unknown carefully lifts me through and then I stand blinking in a well-lit corridor. I look around me and walk a little aways and then I look back curious of my savior.

What I find both shocks me and calms me. A tall man all dressed in black from his black boots to his black cape and fedora. Black curls seem to listlessly flow behind his ears but what shocks me the most is the black mask that covers practically his entire face. One thought is running through my mind it can't be. He calmly begins to walk towards me, cautiously as if he's afraid that I might bolt. Soon he's standing right in front of me. Silence reigns in as he peers down with his clear golden eyes, I look up at him unsurely unsure of what to say. The baby in my arms makes up our minds for ourselves, while letting out a short giggle and reaching out towards the dark shadow. The man peers down at the brown haired angel unsure as I am. Slowly he holds out his hand and instead of giving him the child I rush into his arms and bury my face into his chest and let out all the fear and tension I've felt. Just as slowly as he had done everything else he folds his arms around me as well.

I've never felt short in my life but next to this tower and within his firm embrace I feel like crystal about to break. I know I've told that an inner calm had swept through me but its true for as I stood in his arms I felt completely safe. Nothing could take me, nothing could hurt me and nothing ever could stop me from pouring out my heart. I do not believe that I was merely crying out the fear and anxiety, I believe it was something more complex. My confusion, perhaps, for what was happening. As I cried with large tears the man lifted me into his arms and cradled me as I was doing to my new charge. He began to stroll through the hall humming a nameless tune, too low for me to distinguish it through my tears but loud enough for me to be comforting. Then he stopped and with his back pushed a section of a stonewall and as it slid back he walked through into yet another dull lit room. As carefully as he could he set me down onto something soft and began to stroke my hair gently. And then he began to speak in French which didn't help me any considering I don't speak French but his voice was so deep and smooth like his dark cape as swished against stone that it began to lull me to sleep.

And it wasn't until I woke up that I realized that he had been reciting the lyrics of a song, a sonnet about our lives.