June 2002 (Approximate) Dream: Amilla Coriallis

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- Marine girl talking into her headset, heading out to fight the terrorists: "This is Amilla Coriallis"

- I had been working in the field. Suddenly everyone turned against me (as in Belinda just getting mad at me for no reason.)

- My mom and dad abandoned me - emotionally - my dad took my truck and mom locked me out of the house.

- Next, I was standing in a meeting in Vandalia (next town, to where I grew up in St. Elmo, Ill), and although I needed to be there, I had no way home, but I knew I'd figure it out.

- I kept pressing on with the detailed work on my mission at a meeting.

- I then started to look around, noticing who was there.

- Theresa Dothager was there (from St. Elmo). I asked her for a ride home. She tried to act "smooth" - she didn't just say "yes" the first time. - then she said "yes" the second time.

- I told her she was supposed to say "yes" - not until the 3rd time - it was "protocol".

- She gathered her things, one of which was her wedding gown with a long, shimmering "train", helped by an assistant.

- As we were leaving, somehow we got diverted.

- She went on the upper road - I on the lower. She left.

- I was suddenly standing on the ramp of a very confusing highway, all alone. Almost 20 miles from home - no truck - in the cold - I would not be able to make it.

- Then, I hear a voice - it was either Michael Laridon or Larry Guttman calling to be with me. I couldn't make it out. It was Michael's voice - but Larry was his actual "self".

- We made plans for the next day. He was coming over. He arrived - told me his health was not so great. Some flair-up of an old condition - HYPA-Glaucemic.

- As we were walking out of the highway viaduct entrance ramp - there was a terrorist with a white shotgun - trying to aim for him. He was "leading" several people out into an awaiting rescure chopper.

- Everyone was going out past the line of fire, to get in.

- As soon as they were all in - I was the last one out. I always stay till last ?? for some reason.

- Just as I was about to go out - (and I wasn't worried about being "hit" - I was too "fast" - I'd be okay.

- Just then, another terrorist was spotted . . . this one with a sub-machine-gun.

- He was mowing down any and everything. I went back down the ramp - to check for something - and to get away - out of the open - I knew he would get me if I didn't get out of sight.

- When I went down the ramp, there was a guard's station. (This was all down in a sublevel of a street or expressway, or something.)

- I just mentioned what I was doing down there - and they had just gotten the call - as if over an army radio.

- I was describing the scene above - detailing the gunmen - immediately- the marine special forces were, or National Guard were assembling - preparing for a counter-strike.

- They were getting their weapons and ammo belts on, and moving out - I knew I was totally protected - they were organized and outnumbered, outsmarted, outpowered the single terrorist shooting from behind enemy lines. (A crate).

- As I walked back up the ramp, a young female soldier was talking into a radio headset device saying . . . "This is Amilla Coriallis, signing off." She was armed with a submachine gun.

- There were dozens more - positioning and "moving out" into battle.

- I knew it would be "Okay."

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Note: Waking up, my Puss puss was at the foot of my bed, as if watching the whole thing!