A Dream, Literally.

Ok, so I just woke up a while ago from the strangest dream.

The first half was this: a friend and I were the chosen caretakers of a very important dog. His name was Avogodro, as in Avogodro's number (6.02 x 10^23). And as mighty as this task was (apparently it was really important...), we were on one of the playground at my elementary school. We were chasing Avogodro around and calling his name. It was... fun.

But then! The dream shifts into something much more serious. I'm suddenly in dark, deserted ruins of a once great building. I have a partner (maybe the same friend?). A few seconds and I realize we're both holding guns. We're running through these ruins looking for something. We turn a corner and he shoots down some enemies, shouting in a language we don't understand. He quickly disposes of them with a few short blasts of his automatic rifle. We turn another corner and there's an explosion and in this moment my partner pulls me quickly from the falling rubble. We look up (as we had fallen to the ground) and see our objective. A woman and 3 children. We were to rescue them. My partner and I began towards them when a shot rang out. My partner and guardian ran towards an "empty" building, shooting all the way. I followed suit, but seconds after he entered, he ran past me. Being significantly less athletic, I can only slide down by the wall and hide from our attackers who hopefully haven't seen me. I point my gun up at the window I hide behind. I see the tip of a gun cross the threshold of the window and aim my gun through the wall where the attacker would be. I fire, suprised to find I'm holding a shotgun (my favorite type of gun in the video games). I hear a groan and some steps-- a second enemy filling the first's position. I fire again and again and again, hearing my foes drop to the ground. When there is a second more silence than normal, I rise quickly and sprint past the woman and children to a wall that seems to have some sacks lined up. I slide into the wall and am hidden by the sacks. I hear my partner take charge and attack (and finish off) our assailants. We're safe, but the woman and children sound mournful. They mutter something quickly in Spanish. I am unable to follow due to the speed of their tongues. However, I picked up "Es muerte. El Obama es muerte!" followed by heavy sobs. Suddenly, I realize that I'm President Obama on a mission with a young marine. This revelation paralyzes me until the woman and children have left. I rise and travel back stateside. The next night, I walk into the room where the woman and children are being held safe. They all sleep except the youngest of them. His age, I can't decipher, except less than 7. His eyes widen upon my appearance and a smile cracks his lips as I survey our newly rescued friends. I then leave the room and he falls back to sleep-- the smile still on his face.