A Disturbing Dream

I had a dream this morning that I will never forget. It felt more real than any dream I have ever had.

I was in an airport in an eastern country. I was waiting in line to go through airport security. I was almost at the front. The woman ahead of me took off her dress, shoes, and socks. She was wearing only a slip. She laid down on a table and was covered from the neck down with a sheet. Eight security agents surrounded the woman on the table and hit her with batons, twice each. She struggled off the table, dressed, and limped on to her gate. I was the next one to go through.

Me: Is this normal protocol?
Female Agent: Yes. Everyone does this.
Me: What is the purpose? I don't understand.
FA: No metal detectors. The club hits something, it makes a sound.
Me: But isn't there an easier way?
FA: (smiles) No. We do not like terrorists here. This is why I took this job. I love this. When I first start I hit very hard. I hit someone very hard and they died. Now I don't hit as hard as I can.

The thought of it sent me to my knees. A deep and unrelenting sorrow took over me and I cried like I have never cried in life. I wailed, I keened, I opened up my heart and let out the most refined hurt I had ever known. I screeched and tore at my hair. Not out of fear. There was no doubt in my mind I could survive this beating. I was torn open for the person who was killed and this woman who was so deluded she had no reaction to ending someones life. I writhed on the floor for what seemed forever. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my friend HP with another woman. HP was restraining her from coming to assist me for fear of some kind of repercussion. I felt a hand on my arm. It was my friend the Beanpole. He had a grim look on his face and pulled me to my feet. He shoved a box of Dunkin Donuts at me and said "hold this". He had a gallon of milk in his other hand. We started to walk.

I awoke.