I'm not what's missing

Last night I had one of the most fascinating dreams I can remember ever having.

I don't know exactly where to begin, and let me prefice this by saying it might not make a lot of sense, but I'll give it a whirl.

Well, the first thing i remember, and I am not sure if this is unrelated, is being at at wedding. On the way, I noticed a friend of minein front of me. She seemed happy to see me, but was with some other people, and as we went inside, she sat with these others, and I took my place with my family.

I think the wedding was for a fairly close relation of the family.

When the wedding ended, everyone went downstairs for the reception, but I stayed upstairs for some reason. When I was handed a wedding album and as I was looking through it, the bride came over to me and said she had much better pictures herself, and I should look at them instead of the album.

The odd thing was she was still in her wedding dress and I don't think most of these pictures had even been taken yet.
There seems to be a gap now that I am missing... the transition into the next segment I recall...

I believe it was one of the children that suggested we have them all take waivers home to their parents to sign, just because it couldn't hurt.

The two oldest children were Jessica and a boy of about twelve or so. All of the children seemed much youger, maybe between the ages of five and ten.

I can't remember exactly what the purpose of the field trip was. Maybe it was a birthday party, or maybe I made that up this moriing over coffee while trying to reason this dream out. In any case...

I knew of a place. We were in quite a large castle and we had all pretty much toured the place at this point. I was standing with Jessica and this older boy, waiting for everyone to regroup. Perhaps there were other of the kids around us.

I asked them if they had seen the tunels. I asked them if they had walked into the tunnels a ways. They hadnn't and seemed surprised that one could. “Oh yes” I told them, and led them to the tunnels. There was a gate I opened, that wasn't locked, and by this point, all the other children, as were my parents, were with us.

I was walking ahead with Jessica. We emerged into some kind of huge area. It looked like the inside of an airport, or a mall. The area was filled with people going this way or that. It would have been easy to get lost in here, so as the others made it out, we made sure to watch them so they would not become lost.

I cannot recall anythign more about being in the underground world. Only that I had been there before, and was acting as a guide.

The next thing I remember is we came out of a cave into daylight again. We were once again on the surface of the earth. We made our way, our entire group, maybe a hundred feet from the caves opening, when we saw a group of maybe twenty to thirty people on the dirt road about 50 feet ahead of us. They were brandishing clubs and chains and were tryign to prohibit us from continuing.

The children were understandably concerned, but I reassured them that I knew what to do. “Just keep running, and you will be fine. Just run past them... push through them”
Apparently, the onlly threat was if you stopped moving.

Jessica and I took the lead and pushed through. Once the rest of our group saw how easy it was to do, they all came rushing forward.
Jessica and I raced back through the group going the opposite way, to distract the goons. It was like a game of red rover.

I could have been the next day... I am not sure. We all had a flight to catch, to go back home, at 1:30pm.
I don't know what time it was when I found the letter. It was written by Jessica and she said that six of them (the twelve children) had gone back to underground. They weren't coming back.
I read the letter aloud to my parents. “If there is only six of them going, where are the other six?” I asked desperatly.
In the end we must have assumed that when the younger six saw what the older six were doing, they insisted they come along. Maybe at the threat of waking us up, and then none would go.
Maybe the letter had already been written at this point and no one thought to update it

I am unclear why we never went to look for the children. Why we couldn't. I do recall that we would have missed our flight, had we done it, and that was significant, being it may have been the only flight available, ever.
If it was simply a matter of rebooking a flight, surely we would have. But it wasn't simple, and we had no choice but to leave on the flight without the twelve children we had brung with us.

It was an awkward scene in the cabin on our flight home. It was just the three of us. My parenst were very worried about what they would tell twelve sets of parents. I reminded them we had the waivers and would not be held responsible, but that seemed to not offer the support they needed.
There was a brief moment or two when the viecle we were in slipped under the water. It was quite intimidating, as we began to see water and fish outside the windows. Especially when we wondered if this was supposed to be happening.
Maybe death seemed like a good escape, at that point.

The next thing I remember is walking through the streets. We were back home and as we were walking, someone seemed to be guiding us. I don't think she was physically present, though (more like a voice over that the three of us heard) and I remember refering to our guide as “her.”

What began to happen was that we started seeing the children we had left behind, individually on the street. But they were much older. I mean, they were all into their late forties of fifties of older.

I remember seeing the boy who had the limp. He was walking aimlessly, as if he were blind and slighly retarded. But he was not the first one we saw.

I remember seeing the boy that reminded me of jack Black from school of rock. He still looked like him, but a slighly retarded version.
He was kitty corner to us, standing on the corner, waiting to cross the street. He had a brown tweed suit jacket on.

I remember seeing the asian boy, as an older man now. He was in a wheel chair, on top a flight of stairs that led up from the sidewalk. He was wearing one of those straw cowboy hats. *
Next to him stood a lady that wispered in his ear something about forgiveness, and he seemed resentful. He said he would not forgive.
I knew they were talking about us.

A little way up the street, a car pulled over to the side of the road. As we approached, my mothers mom stood up out of the sun roof.
I don't recal exactly what was said. I get the feeling that words like “failure” and “embarassment” wrere used, but in a past context, like now that had changed.
The whole time, since seeing eleven of the children, I had been fighting back the tears, and now as I stood watching my mom hear from her own mother, I knew she was in tears also.

I knew that when this exchange was over, that I would see the final of the twelve. I would see Jessica. She was last because I loved her.

And then I woke up. No warning, I just woke up.
Interpreting that dream would be something. Even as I write it, I can find ways to read into it.

Seeing the children as adults who resented us was something unexpected. I wonder about that. I wonder about the whole thing. And one day, after I finish this bottle of Johnny Walker, I may try and figure it out.