Asia.

Last night I dreamed.
And it was odd.

There was blonde girl, with really long hair. Asleep in her bedroom. Wearing a long white tee shirt.
Peaceful.
Then a man with a machine gun showed up. He was being chased by a group of 12 year old boys with big sticks. They all wore masks.
The man jumped through the girl's bedroom window.
He was dirty looking. Wearing a beat up leather jacket and some jeans cut off at the ankles. But his face was nice. And he had good hair.
She screamed. And he covered her mouth with his big hand. Hard. It tasted like dirt. She smelled like soap. There was glass from the window everywhere. He pulled her sheets over their heads and frantically began to take his jacket off. Put it on, he told her. She started shaking. Why? He didn't have time though. He was too busy reloading a gun for her. A smaller one.
I don't know anything about guns. I just know it was smaller then the one he had.
Here, he gave it to her. She was still afraid. Why? she said again as she slipped the jacket on her small shoulders and set the gun in her lap. Because, he said, I need you. She bit her lip. We have to go down the street, he told her.
For some reason, that sounded really scary.
You can't shoot the boys, he told her. I need them too. You can shoot at them, you can't shoot them though.
They were banging on the side of her wall with their sticks.
He ripped the sheets off from over their heads. Ready? he said. She grabbed his arm. Wait, what's your name? But he didn't answer. He just pulled her up with him into his arms and jumped through the window. And then they were surrounded by the little boys. Bird masks everywhere. Little white feathers floated through the night air. Mud and twigs hung in their hair.
She was still scared. A gun dangling from her right hand. She clutched his tee shirt with her other. Her fingernails dug into his skin. He didn't notice though.
On three, he told her.
One.
There was a boy with ginger hair. He looked to be only 10.
Two.
The man grabbed her hand. Her hair was a mess of knots know. She wished she could pull it up out of her face.
Three.
They ran.
The man was whispering something under his breath. She struggled to hear.
Asia.
He was saying Asia.
Over and over again.

And then I woke.
And now I need to go running.