I was attending a funeral in a church in a sketchy looking part of a town I was unfamiliar with. I was with Kyle, and an old friend from high school, and there were members of several branches of the military present in the small church we were sitting in. At one point, I stood up and went outside, where I found a white, tireless, windowless van parked in front of the church. I looked in the windows, and saw a massive bomb sitting in the back.
I climbed into the van, and tried to get a better look at the bomb, but got locked inside the van, and couldn’t get out. I called the police, and they yelled at me for parking the van so close to a park, then hung up on me. I called Kyle to open the van for me, and when he came to get me, I was crying, and told him about the van. We were right next to a park, and there were a bunch of children and their parents standing by the fence watching us. I started yelling at them to get away, that there was a bomb, but they wouldn’t listen.
A bunch of squad cars and SWAT vehicles pulled up, and they started shouting at Kyle and I to get down on the ground, and asking me how to disconnect the bomb. I kept trying to tell them that it wasn’t my bomb, and that I had just found it, but they wouldn’t listen to me. I started to run away, and went back into the church to hide. An officer came into the church, holding an armful of C4, and calling my name. I stepped out, and he started telling me that I was a hero, and that they were sorry that they blamed me.
Other officers started funneling into the church, all of them cheering and waving to me…
And then, I woke up.