My family and I are inside of a large brick building. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of people inside. At equal intervals, sliding metal gates scroll down from the ceiling, cutting sections off from other sections.
The gates malfunction and come down hard, and I scramble to locate all my family members and to keep them together in the same section. I want to get out of the building, but everyone thinks it's fine -- it's just the gates and everything will be fixed soon. No, we have to get out of the building now.
I finally convince them to leave. We go outside and are right in front of the building, and I don't feel safe there. If something were to happen, we'd be crushed by the bricks. So I tell them we have to move back. Back. Back farther. Still farther. All the way to the very back, as far away as possible.
There's an earthquake and the building shakes but stays together. Then, half the bricks come tumbling down, crushing hundreds of people both still inside and just outside. Then it collapses completely and hundreds more die.
We are safe. Every last one of us is safe, way in the back, out of the way of the bricks.
How did I know it was going to collapse? they all want to know.
I was just afraid it might, and it did, and I went to each of them and hugged them and thanked them for listening to me.
