In my dream, I was in a room. The room had walls of gray and lights of blue. In the middle, there was a boy and a girl facing each other. In between them there was a pedestal. On it there was a gray cat. When the boy looked, he saw a black cat. When the girl looked, she saw a white cat.
Suddenly, the scene changed. They were then both tied to a bomb. A voice called out from nowhere and asked each of them what color the cat was. The boy said black and the girl said white. The bomb exploded in a flash of white, and after the light died down, the boy and girl were gone, and all that’s left was the sizzling red entrails sprayed across the room.
The next night, I had the same dream. They both die. The next night, the dream comes to me again. That time I scream. I yell. Nothing but silence comes out of my mouth. Every night, I see these two people die. Every time, I feel more and more to blame. I can’t help them. I am weak. Because I can never find my voice, they have to die. Every night.
One night, I give up. I just watch as they look at the cat. I just watch as they become tied up. I just watch as they give the wrong answers. But this time, before the bomb goes off, they both turn to me and smile.