Dream of: 10 April 1995 "Suicide"

Carolina and I were trapped in Russia and we weren't allowed to leave. As we walked along a street, it seemed somewhat as if we were in a prison, and I was trying to figure out how we could escape. We had met one Russian man who had said he was going to help us. In fact he had already supplied us with passports, which I had in my pocket. He was supposed to meet us later that day, and together we were going to try to cross the border.

However, I was thinking that Carolina and I might go ahead and try to cross the border now, without waiting for the other man. As we continued walking along the desolate streets, I tried to make up my mind whether to try the crossing now. But suddenly we ran into the Russian man who was planning to escape with us. After I began talking with him, I realized how important it was to him to go with us, and I knew I would have to wait for him.


Several Russians, Carolina and I had scrambled aboard a large helicopter and were being flown to freedom out of the Russian city. The city had been on the edge of a large body of water, and below us I could see where land fill had been dumped into the water to provide for extensive new development of the city.

As we continued over the water, I could see the reflection of the helicopter in the water below us. I was sitting right next to an open door – it would be easy for me to fall out. As I started to fasten my black seat belt, I looked toward the back of the helicopter, and saw a startling sight. Standing near the open door in the back was a naked man, with his back to me. I recognized him as a Russian whom I had met and befriended.

I understood immediately what he was intending to do: he was going to throw himself from the helicopter and kill himself. I didn't understand why. But I thought he probably figured that he had achieved his aim of escaping from Russia, and now he had no reason to keep living. He was too far away for me to reach, but I knew I had to do something. I leaned up to the pilot, who was right in front of me, and I began screaming that he should stop. But the pilot had on a helmet and he couldn't hear me over the roar of the helicopter engine. I screamed and screamed, but it didn't do any good.

When I turned back to the man at the rear again, he was gone. I looked out the window below us. We were now over land and probably only about 20 meters off the ground. The land looked sandy. Since we weren't that high, and the land looked somewhat soft, I thought there might have been a chance that the man hadn't died when he hit the ground.

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