Clan of the Broken Banner -- Pt. 3

Two weeks later, while I was half engaged in eating a bowl of cereal before I left for school, I had another “daydream”. I imagined myself in downtown Seattle, next to what the locals call, “The Jungle”. It is a public park next to the iconic Smith Tower on Second Street. I had a friend who worked there as a security guard. He shared with me some horrific stories of riots, drugs, rape, and other crimes that happened during the late hours of the night. It was those stories that convinced me to go to college, but I digress.

I imagined that I was a pedestrian, walking down the hill between the Smith Tower and the Jungle, heading towards the Starbucks to get my morning fix. I heard a scream as I walked by the alley behind the Tower and saw a woman on the ground. Her sweater was torn down the back. A huge man stood over her pointing a switchblade at her throat. I ran in to the alleyway.

“Hey, get away from her!” I yelled, sprinting towards the man. The man froze and pointed the knife at me. In my supposed daydream, the man slashed his knife at me. I stepped back and grabbed the man’s wrist, locked it, flipped the man onto his back and then kicked the knife away from him. The woman got up and ran, calling for help.

The man was winded, but reached into his coat and grabbed a gun. Before he could pull the trigger, a UPS driver came out of nowhere, kicked the gun out of the man’s hand. A shot was fired, but missed both of us completely. I stood still, shocked that another would be so kind to assist me in my daydream.

“Grab the gun!” the UPS driver yelled. I grabbed the gun, handed it to the UPS driver, who then pointed it at the man's head. “One bad move and your gone,” he said. The man nodded and put his hands on his head. The UPS Driver motioned for the man to stand, and the man did so. “Turn around,” the UPS driver said. The man turned and the UPS driver pistol whipped him in the back of the head. The man fell unconscious and the UPS driver dissembled the gun in an instant.

“How did you do that?” I asked in my daydream.

"Where are you from?”

“Lynnwood,” I said. 

“What’s your name?”

“Kevin Bargrey. Why?”

“You’re not one of us, are you?

Then the dream ended.

That wasn't how my dreams were supposed to go! This was my daydream. I was supposed to be the hero! I was supposed to be the one asking questions and playing out simple, non detailed plots in my head.

But it wasn't a daydream.