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Recently, I had THE most disturbing dream of my whole life.
It may sound hard to believe, but this is actually a detailed account of what I saw in my dream a few days ago.

I was on a trip with a friend. The weather was perfect. It could have been a backpack trip, or a bike trip, I don’t really remember. What I do still know is that we arrived in a village that I remember as being very small, and built into a hillside. Actually, the only building in this village I can still see quite clearly before me was a brothel, into which we went (to ask for the way, not for satisfying our carnal desires. Really).

Inside, in every room there was, we found a dead prostitute.

They had quite obviously been murdered, there was blood everywhere.
I said something to my friend, but when I saw his face, I realized that I didn’t know him at all. I just knew that he was my friend and that we had gone on this trip together. Strangely, I was only amazed by this and wasn’t afraid.
Then, we found a broad ladder leading to some kind of second floor. Assuming a similar situation there, I said something like “OK, I’ll take a quick look upstairs, but chances are pretty high that I won’t be able to take the sight for too long, so I’ll be back soon”, left my unknown friend on the first floor and went upstairs.
I found another dead prostitute, but something was different with her to the other ones. It looked like her wrists had been slit, and she was lying there, face down, in a very low room, on a blood-stained carpeted floor. I even remember her wearing a cheap green miniskirt.
In horror, I returned to my friend who had been waiting and told him that the scene upstairs was unbearable, as I had expected.
But he also wanted to see it, so he also climbed upstairs but returned soon to tell me that he couldn’t take it either.

This is when it suddenly occurred to me that there had been something else in the room, right next to the corpse, so I went upstairs again and looked around.
I found something that looked remotely like a sleeping bag, but it had the form of a human; with arms, legs, and a head section. Like a sleeping bag, it had a zipper with which the (torture instrument?) could be opened and closed.

And I could hear someone breathing heavily inside. I opened the zipper, starting at the head section.
The breathing noise became more distinct, and I could see parts of a human head with a piece of heavy, folded, grey cloth (wool?) on the face.

I removed it and looked into the face of a young girl of roughly 14 years.
I continued to liberate her from the sleeping bag / torture instrument.
What I saw then was not only extremely disturbing, but also stirred up anger, pity and sorrow within me.
The girl was completely naked and had obviously been carelessly shaved between the legs; I remember seeing the stubbles.
And her vagina was bleeding. The blood that had already dried had formed a huge stain, expanding well over her navel.

And she was smiling.

As soon as I had gotten her out of the bag, she sat down on the ground somewhere in the room, with her legs spread, so I could see everything. And she started to tell me what had happened. To my amazement, she told me that she had killed all those prostitutes.
I was just amazed, not afraid of this young girl, who had allegedly killed the whole crew of a whorehouse by her own hand.
When I then asked her about the dead prostitute who had been lying next to the bag, she told me (still smiling): “She slit her wrists herself. She put me into the bag as she was dying. Somebody had had to do it, after all. Or how else should her death have been assured?”
Feeling that the situation needed to be “cleaned up”, I told her to “sit like a lady” because I just couldn’t take it anymore: the heartbreaking sight of a young girl with a mutilated body sitting there in front of me, with spread legs. She understood me at once and changed her posture.
And then I started talking. Disjointed nonsense. Mainly, it was about the importance of school and education, but my real aim was to calm her. And to “do the right thing”…because school is good for children, right?
And she listened. She looked into my eyes, calmly, superior, almost amused, in a slightly deriding way.

And smiled at me.

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