So I was in this weird place that was on the opposite side of an encampment, across a river, or some kind of body of water. There was a sand bridge that one could walk across to get to the encampment. I was with my BF, but he was in slow motion. I wanted to go across the sand bridge to see what was up on the other side. He said that he'd meet me over there, it was going to take him a while.
So I ran across and ended up inside thee high adobe walls. There were teenagers, mostly Caucasian, lined up. Some were doing exercises, as if they were in a high school physical education class. They all looked drugged. I was feeling really strange about that, because it was obvious that they were imprisoned. I don't know how I got in, but I knew it would be hard to get out.
One girl saw me hiding behind one of the walls, peeking out at the kids. She motioned for me to wait there. She came back later with a book, kind of like a training manual, that explained that all of these kids were being held there and trained to be something like Stepford wives and husbands, except more sinister. More like sex slaves. I was horrified. She told me to take the book and get out, and get them help. So I ran.
I encountered my BF on the sand bridge, still walking towards the encampment. I told him about the book, and what was going on, and as I did so, the water started to rise around our legs. It kept coming up, and I watched it for a while. Then we headed back to shore.
Once there, he was still in slow motion, and I said that I was going to run and tell my father what was going on. Maybe he could get the military involved. So I ran, and then the dream split. I did find my father, but apparently I had already given him the book. There was a woman there with him with white shiny hair and grey eyes. She was from the encampment, but she had lied to my father and told him that she was my friend and that I had told her about the book, and she was going to help get the kids out.
She gave me this look. Cold. Like she would kill my father if I told anyone. She left, and I told him that she was not my friend and that he had made a big mistake giving her the book. Now I would have no proof. He tried to answer, but now he was in slow motion too. I began to get desperate thinking of how I could help get those kids out, and I woke up.