FRIDAY, 27TH JULY 2012,
I am about to tell you a dream I had. It was intriguing and thrilling. I was fast asleep when I saw the news channel on TV on. It said a plane had just crashed in Costa Rica. A young boy aged seven was stuck in the plane. Everybody except the boy had died. The plane had already caught fire. I knew that if I didn’t go, the boy would die. I flew all the way from Miami to Costa Rica in the middle of the night. I had my mask on. I was superwoman. I reached in two hours. I saw the plane, not very far from the coast. I descended. I took a bucket and filled it with water. I extinguished the plane. I heard someone sobbing and crying for help. I was taking the decision of my life. “Should I risk my life for his?” I decided I would. I got into the plane. I saw dead bodies sprawled over the plane aisle and seats. I heard a boy sobbing under a seat. Has was looking at a couple and howling. I saw his parent’s dead. He resembled them. I carried him out. The little boy was saved. I was proud of myself! My mother said not to be cowardly. I obeyed her. I was the happiest person in the world! I do hope my dream would come true.
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