It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon. My brother, Boyd, and I were on a high ridge in a place I knew to be Shawnee Forest (the place is actually a trail near Grayson Lake, but in my dream, it was Shawnee). I had tied a rope around Boyd’s waist because he kept getting too close to the edge of the cliffs. I was mad at him for getting so close because I was afraid that if he fell over, I might fall by not letting go of the rope in time.
As we walked along, every time he came to an open spot (no trees) along the top of cliff, he’d step to the edge and look down. If he got too close, I’d pull him back, which clearly irritated him. At one point he turned, looked at me, and said, “Look! We came up here to do this. If you’re not going to do this with me, then go home!”
It was then that I realized he intended to jump. “Please don’t jump!” He looked back over the edge. “I might not ever see you again: please don't jump!"
“You aren’t strong to pull me back up with that rope. You don’t need a rope. I’ve done this every day of my life – it’s what I do. You’ve done it too. Let’s have some fun! This is what we came out here for,” he said.
I could tell that his mind was made up, but I didn’t want to jump off the cliff with him. In my dream, I knew that people jumped off these cliffs for fun, but if he jumped, then he would be gone forever.
I tightened my grip on the rope and braced myself. Behind me, my grandmother said, “You can’t stop him. This is what he always does.” I turned around, surprised to see her. Just as I looked away, Boyd jumped. The rope went slack. I woke up.
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