I dreamt that we were somewhere where no one was suppose to find us. We were sneaking around a place where if people would find us then they would do something bad to us, like either kill us or put us in a confined camp.
We took every pathway we could to find this mountain, and finally we found the path, and we climbed it. While we climbed, we talked about life and how things happen sometimes to make life what it is instead if what we think it should be. We talked about faith. We talked about struggles. We talked about the Why and the Why-not.
Then we made it to the top.
And I put my foot down on the tip.
And when I looked around, I could see the entire world around me. The vastness, the beauty, the colors, and the sound of wind. A picture in my mind that I never wanted to let go of.
I knew we were suppose to be quiet so that they (whoever they were) wouldn't hear us, but I didn't care. I knew that no matter who heard me, I was on top of a mountain and I knew that we were free.
I lifted my hands in the air and felt the rush of wind, closed my eyes and let out a victorious shout. Like the shout and laugh you would make when you were on top of a mountain and felt completely free of anything and everything that had ever happened.
And then I woke up.
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