Digital art, Capture a moment of hope for a refugee family and their miracle baby in a war-ravaged land in a single image.

Refugee with a miracle baby

Date: 5/12/2019

By MsBananaNanner

I was in this foreign country or whatever, at at some point a war broke out--but it was like apocalypse level war, and there was some sort of disease spreading wildly. So not only is there constantly crazy people running around with guns and the occasional bomb dropped from the sky, but hundreds of people a day will catch this "disease" -- which basically makes them go insane, delusional, sometimes homicidal, and just generally have a Bad Time. Throughout the whole dream it's a process of me and everyone else in this country trying to evacuate, and there's only one way to flee and that's by traveling alllll the way across this country. And since everything is in chaos, end of the world, that's basically all by foot. So I set off, with some people I know, and we make some progress each day. We have to avoid the bullets and bombs the most, but as time goes on we get our first interaction with the disease. One night I'm holed up in a treehouse (it was safer) and I watch this nightlong episode of a girl losing her mind and murdering a friend--she bludgeoned her with an axe in the jungle below us and all we could do was watch. It was early on in the chaos so no one really understood the disease yet or that this was the result. I'd tried to go down and talk to her but that was when I realized that she really wasn't in there anymore, she wasn't making any of the decisions, she was just a shell basically. Anyway, time goes on and our little group pushes onward with the hordes of other refugees. Money starts to go obsolete pretty quickly, even though we're all trying to scrape together as much change as we can. We just want to eat. 1 of the people in our group is this pregnant lady and one evening (we were on a ferry or something-basically the last of our money) I was talking to the dad about what they were going to do when it was born. He didn't want to answer me directly but I slowly realized he was saying they were going to just dump it and get rid of it because they knew they couldn't take care of it. (These were his plans though, because we both knew the mom wouldn't want to do that) I was livid but tried to restrain my anger. I told him in a heartbeat that I'd adopt the baby and take care of it, regardless of the cost. He laughed, thinking I was kidding and said "whatever." But when the baby came I did just that, I stole it that night and ran off on my own, abandoning the group and clutching this newborn to my chest. The dream itself skipped a bit after that, but it was like I still had the memories of the years in between. The kid is like a year old now, and we're still plodding along each day with the other extremely worn out refugees. There are these little makeshift hotel type places that are set up at various places. This one in particular was set up at a half ruined building, and each "room" was a utility van that was just kind of...built into the rubble idk how to describe it. Anyway I always look at these places so longingly because I dream of how nice it would be to have an actual space to lie down at night, not just curled up in the bushes or the trees and always having to worry about some diseased person discovering us. The next morning I get my little boy ready to go (I named him Miracle which is precious lol) and prepared myself as best I could for hell--as we had made it through about half the country but now we're about to enter the most disease-ravaged parts. We're to the parts where people have already fled, and all that's left is the disaster. The entire day was horrific. There were all these people running around completely delusional, and they'd just scream. Like they never stopped screaming. It was as if they were constantly being tortured so they just screamed. Except, they screamed so much that their throats just bled and bled and blood would just flow out of their mouths and all over their clothes. And the pain of screaming so hard and basically just destroying their bodies just made them more desperate for relief but they had no idea what they were doing to themselves because they were completely ruined by this disease. I cried pretty much the whole day because I knew there was nothing I could do for them except kill them to put them out of their misery—which many have taken upon themselves to do, and are just running around freely, slaughtering people left and right. I also cried because this was the world this innocent kid had been born into and he’d never know a world before all this. That evening there’s this little food stand place that has these chicken and gravy platter things that look so good. And the thing even comes with a slice of cake, which is practically unheard of and the woman is advertising far and wide (as she should). Everyone keeps looking at the menu board longingly, but no one has any money at this point to be able to buy it. I actually have a decent amount saved up still, because as soon as I adopted this kid I started saving everything I possibly could in case something came up down the line. I’m so emotionally drained, and we’re both so hungry that I figure this is a worthwhile time to use some of it so I get a platter with a slice of carrot cake (it was the cheapest). No one fought me for it which was surprising but awesome. I’d seen another van-hotel place too so I started heading towards that when I found my dad wandering around. I couldn’t believe he was still alive, and that we’d managed to find each other. I hadn’t seen him since before the evacuation. He’d just been wandering around trying to help people wherever he could, and all he had was this worn map that he’d found a few months back. We reminisced, I showed him the food I’d bought, and introduced him to Miracle. We all went to the hotel place and spent the very last of both our combined coins to rent a room for the night. When we crawled inside this retrofitted SUV thing, we both just kind of started laughing with joy because we couldn’t believe we were here, that there could be such goodness left in the world. We had somewhere to stay and food to eat (IT WAS SO GOOD UGH WHY IS DREAM FOOD THE BEST). Neither of us wanted to talk about the last few months, though I still told him about what I’d seen that day. About the sheer amount of blood we’d walked through. I told him how grateful I was to not have to worry about Miracle, at least for one night. It was the only time I’d been able to actually put him down and let him explore on his own, since we knew he was safe in the car. “If I ever took my eyes off him for even a second, someone would take him.” He says things haven’t been much better in this area, though there’s hope not much further west. He tells me about some schools that have been started back up, of little communities that have banded together in solidarity. He tells me that there really aren’t many that actually get out of the country, that the reason the crowds are thinner now is simply because the other half are dead, not because they escaped. I’d figured as much. We start to talk about what our plans are moving forward, but then stop. We want to just enjoy this moment, this one night where we are safe, and fed, and we are together. And we EAT THAT DANG CAKE UGH IT WAS GOOD.

AI generated interpretation This dream could be interpreted as a metaphor for the struggles and triumphs of being a refugee in a chaotic and violent world. The dangerous journey across the country, the desperate circumstances of having to abandon a newborn, and the hope of finding a safe haven with a loved one all point to the power of resilience and the importance of finding peace and security in the midst of danger. It also speaks to the importance of looking out for one another, of protecting those who are most vulnerable and providing them with a safe place to be. Ultimately, it could be interpreted as a reminder that despite all the violence and chaos, there is still hope and kindness in the world, and that it is possible to find peace in even the darkest of times.