The Executioner's Chair

Last night I had one of the most disturbing dreams that I think is possible. As happens so often, I will forget the dream by the time I get to the kitchen. So as I lay in the predawn haze I told myself the details that I could remember. It was an attempt to be able to recall the most poignant details of that dream.
First the dream, then the reflections that I had as I lay in bed.
The dream started on the day of my execution. It was probably within hours of the time I was to be put to death by electric chair. This was not an out of body experience, with me on the ceiling. I was the one inside the person that was to be killed. The only person that was with me that I knew was a person that I felt was my sister. As I progressed through the day, I went through the emotions that one would expect. I felt the terror of knowing what was going to happen. I felt sadness for a family that was left behind. The trip to the execution chamber was bizarre. I was put into a circular contraption that was similar to a carnival ride. In order to get to the chamber this contraption whisked me through the air. That ride was amazing. I felt the wind on my face, I saw the sky and felt the sun. It truly felt that it was first time that I had experienced this in some time. After the ride I was forced to walk a long, curving stairway. On the way I heard people talking about the crime that I had been convicted for. The story they told and the memories I had did not match-up. This was the low point for my day. Along the way a small African-american girl ran by me. My hand grazed her head as she went past. This, I knew instantly, was the daughter of the murdered person. Toward the top of the stairs I begged for mercy. I dropped to my knees weeping like a child. The executioner came to me, put his hand on my head and just stood there. At that moment, it felt like a father’s hand calming his son. I stood, and calmly walked through the doors. The first thing I saw were the witnesses. I knew them all. I saw the chair. It was a familiar blue recliner with bright green and red leads. As I sat down, I drew a breath to say something. As if it were a blur, I felt a hood then hands on my chest. Within a split second I heard the metal to metal snap. The next feeling that I had was a tightening of my entire torso.
I awoke, understandably, alarmed. I never knew it was a dream until I was awake. I lay there having just experienced a death. I didn’t know how to react. I felt relief and a torrent of sadness.
I couldn’t explain the sadness. I have been against the death penalty for some time. I don’t believe that it is okay to take a life for any reason. But it was more than that. It was a sadness left over from the dream. It was the sadness of and for all those that don’t get to wake up in a bed.
You can do with it what you will. I don’t mind armchair analyzing. I am someone who always thinks that I am 3 ticks from crazy anyway. I often find it hard to share these experiences openly. But for some reason, I thought perhaps I could use this bizarre dream to stir up some feelings in those around me.

You can’t be neutral on a moving train - Howard Zinn