A shot rang out through South Beach. I can not believe I did it, and yet there were no regrets, there was no remorse, just the thought of what would happen next. I quickly pocketed it and ran with no destination in mind, except to just get away. When I stopped, I was in a part of South Beach I had never seen before. It was damp, yet had not rained for weeks, it was bright, yet it was a cloudy night, it was windy, yet there was no wind. Was I losing my mind? Was it all a bad dream?

I awoke with a fright, and quickly jumped out of bed. The sun was shining right through the open window, and there was a slight breeze, just enough to cool you down on a hot day. It was a beautiful day. There was a knock upon the door, and my fiancée shouted, “Get out of bed, honey, you will be late for work. Come down and have some breakfast.” I pulled on my uniform and hurried out my room and down the stairs. Waiting for me on the table was a bowl of cereal, milk poured and spoon in bowl. I quickly ate then headed to work.

It was a normal day in the workplace, thousands of customers and no breaks. I had just finished cleaning up the front room when a man in uniform came in asking for me. The manager pointed my direction and the man proceeded over to me. He said he worked for the police. He started asking me questions about a shot heard the night before in South Beach. He said he found my fingerprints on a bike a few miles away from the crime scene. I told him that I had gone to bed early the night before and I didn’t know what he was talking about. The Policemen thanked me and left. My manager asked me a few questions about the conversation, and then I walked out of the store.

By the time I returned home all I wanted to do was sleep. I turned on the television and got comfortable on the couch. The news was on and like usual all they talked about was the war. I picked up the remote and was ready to turn off the television when I saw a recognizable place. The headline was, “Two men killed in gang shooting.” I paused the TV to have a better look at the place behind the headline. Thoughts went rushing through my head. Was that the place in the dream? Was I there? Did I shoot the men? And then I went blank, as if I had been hit over the head by a blunt object.

I awoke in that place. Not alone this time, like in my dream, but surrounded. A quick survey of the area, and I could tell that I was not wanted. A tall man holding a gun stepped up to me and asked, “Why are you here!” I answered, “I don’t know I was just asleep on my couch and now…”

He hit me with his gun. “Liar,” he hit me again and said, “Did you kill this man.” He pointed to the body and I gasped. “No I wouldn’t kill anyone. This is just a dream just a bad dream, a nightma…”

Once again a shot rang out through South Beach.