the fourth one.

We walked into the government building and smiled at the lady at the front desk as we strolled past. Military man after military man, dressed in full camo, strolled by with their newly issued weapons and her and I looked at each other with a nervous laugh. "Kind of weird, no?" she asked me, as I spouted something off about this being the place they come to to pick up all of their gear, but that none of them were loaded guns anyways.

We headed in the direction of the elevators crossing paths with a twenty-something blonde guy in an American Eagle tee carrying a matte black handgun, a duffle slung over his shoulder. He smiled as he turned right to accompany us onto the elevator. "What floor?" he asked as we stepped in, pushing the button for the 7th floor after we responded. My friend and I stood in the back corner of the elevator making small talk about our day as the door closed. Out of the corner of my eye I notice his disposition completely changed. He drew the gun up, arms extended and pointed it directly at me. He mumbled something about how stupid they were to let people walk around the complex freely carrying weapons, and how easy it was for him to slip in with his completely loaded. And then pulled the trigger. I felt the warmth from the blood immediately, as I fell to the ground he fired again into my leg, and then twice at my friend who stood next to me in shock.

He stopped the elevator at the next floor and gingerly walked out.

I struggle to put together the rest. We made it to the seventh floor and I crawled out, knowing we had to get out of the building. I kept asking where the stairs were, or an emergency exit, but no one seemed to believe me or care. My hair was soaked with blood, and in reality there was no way I could have even still been living judging by where the bullet had entered.  I remember another shooter coming in, and more people getting shot... in the order of men, then women. Already having been soaked by blood was the only thing saving us from that round of bullets.

This is the fourth time I've had a dream like this in the past month. The first time I chalked it up to the fact I had just had surgery, and kept referring to my four incisions as "bullet holes". The next I blamed on melatonin. They keep coming though, and I'm running out of excuses. Every time, I get shot at least once, usually twice, and generally they should be life-ending.

Sometimes it's someone breaking into my home, sometimes it's in public, it's never by anyone I have seen before but the other people in my dreams I know in real life.

No matter which way you stack it, they're really starting to freak me out.