A dream I really had the night before my first day working with at risk youth.

I hope this piece will be part of a much bigger puzzle.

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I’m on this bus at a window seat.  Ten double passenger seats are within the bus, five on either side.  The driver is dark and faceless.  I suspect that he is a disturbed man, though I could not tell you the reason for my suspicion.  The passengers are also faceless.  They sit obediently in their seats with good posture, looking directly forward.  The dark figures are all oblivious to the world outside the vehicle.

I look around, scanning the inside and outside environments.  I am confused because I don’t remember having got on any bus.  I am trying to piece together the events leading up to this and I immediately become distracted by a park on my right.

The park is lush green with plush grass and trees swaying in the wind.  The play equipment displays bright primary colours.   Children are playing en masse.  I notice they are all boys.  These swings, slides and zip cords are occupied by what seems like hundreds of young males.  At first they appear cheerful and at ease.  They are frolicking and playing like children should.

I look away for a moment, back to the driver.  When my gaze returns to the park, I feel as though the bus has begun moving in slow motion.

I see a boy in a state of undress and think to myself about how inappropriate that visual appears to be, especially since there is a man with him in a similar state of undress.

In the bigger picture, the boys are now all screaming in fear and struggling to get away from an army of filthy men.  They are hairy and greasy and have fire in their eyes.  All of those involved are missing clothing and I realise the equipment is blue and yellow only.  The red comes from the blood being shed in this mass assault.

I shout out the window that is now somehow rolled down.  ‘Stop!  You are hurting these children!’

A tear streams down my face and more are on the way in this sort of waterfall.  I can feel the sickening heat of nausea creep inside.

The bus returns to a moving inner city pace, continuing along in its journey.  I am ignored by my peers.  They have not budged since our departure that I cannot seem to recall.

All turns black and I awake, breathing heavily in a cold sweat, disoriented.

Realising I am in my bed, the clock tells me I have more than an hour to stay put.

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