My murder dreams stopped in 1993 when I started my pro bono work with police. I thought they were gone for good. I figured that working on murder cases gave me a free pass.
But NO, they're BACK. Or at least one of them. It went like this....
Boston, night, rough part of town. One gang full of Vietnamese teens on bikes being chased by another gang of older teens in an old Chevy. The Chevy hit one of the boys on his bike and he fell under the car. He looked dead. I tried to alert authorities but they ignored me and seemed corrupt.
The next day I saw on the news that many corrupt officials had been arrested in New Jersey.
I worried all week about the Vietnamese boy's family.
I hate these dreams. When people tell me, "Oh, you are lucky, I would love to be psychic," I tell them, "There are parts of it you don't want."
We all have crosses to bear. Despite my abilities to help solve crimes, I feel like a lost sheep after my dreams. Maybe I will be fleeced and this will by my last one.
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I don't think I would enjoy your dreams either. They sound horrifying and weighted with responsibility. But I am sure that for the souls you have helped, they are a relief. Peace.
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