The other night I had a terrible dream. Yes, a disturbing one, actually (as you might have guessed from the title.)

It started out out as a pretty nice dream. I was hiking, backpacking to be precise. And, as often is the case in dreams, it seemed that I had no connection with my real life. No job, no family, just me walking. The best part was that I seemed to be in great shape. No trudging or slogging just me walking and enjoying it. After some indeterminate amount of time, I arrived at some sort of campground, obviously a destination of some reknown for backpackers. There I met some great people and they talked me into going to Georgia to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail. It didn’t take too much convincing to get me too agree. Especially since one of them was an attractive and very nice young lady.

So I headed out of camp with a new plan. I was very happy. I was getting ready to do something I had always wanted to do and I would be joined by the great group of people I had met at this camp. As I was walking, a group of unfriendly looking guys jumped out of the woods and surrounded me. The were armed with big mean looking guns and grenades and that kind of stuff. They looked like GI Joe action figures who had gone bad. Their leader stepped forward and starting screaming at me. I was terrified. I had no idea why this man was so angry with me. He was shouting about how me and my friends would not win this time and how my friends were not there to help me. I began to know (the way you only can in dreams) that this was some sort of game we were playing, but the stakes were very high. These guys were serious. I knew my life was in great danger. I also was no longer in the woods. I was in some sort of nondescript room. My friends burst through the door. The were the same guys I had met at the campground. (Except for the girl, she was to play no more part in this nightmare.) My friends were no longer dressed like backbpackers, they were now armed to the teeth. The leader of my group told the leader of the bad guys? that he’d better back off and that next time he tried to threaten one of us alone there would be hell to pay. The bad guys retreated from the room and for the moment we were safe. The grim look on everyone’s faces told me that this was only a temporary reprieve.

The leader of my people took me aside. He explained that the enemy was no longer respecting the normal rules of engagement. That sooner or later they would push it to a point that we could not recover from. There was a gravity to what he said that was tremendous. We were no longer talking about a game, we talking about the survival of our people. Their leader had to be killed. There was no doubt about it. The question was how could it be done without raising sympathy for their cause. And without giving his men something to rally around.

My leader had a plan and he needed my help. It was a simple plan, but sure to be effective. He looked me in the eye and told it to me in hushed tones.

“They will be coming thruogh that door any minute now, and he will be leading the way. I need you to take this gun and shoot me in the head, but angle it so that the bullet keeps going and also strikes him,” he told me.

I knew in my heart that he was … right. This was the only way. By killing both leaders any sympathy or martydom for the enemy would be cancelled out. Just then, the enemy burst through the door. I raised my pistol and aimed it squarely at my leader and my great friend. Behind him I could see my enemy advancing. I pulled the trigger without any hesitation or reservation. I ended the life of a great man but I had killed my enemy. In my heart I knew I’d done not only the right thing but a great thing.

I awoke. I knew I had done a horrible thing.