Diary of a vivid dreamer

It's night time. I'm walking along a a quiet street. It's a city however it has more of a village feel. A small clean city perhaps. I'm have a date. We're holding hands. He's on my right closest to the street. I don't know his name but he's quite tall and slender. Mid length dark hair, attractive face and olive skin bordering on dark. I'm getting a mixed middle eastern descent here. I'm picking up major emo vibes as well. There is an almost feminine quality to him. He's male; That's the extent of his masculinity. Pretty. Very pretty.

We reach our destination which is a restaurant. It's Asian food, you wouldn't know that from the decor as it has an old, chrome railway car diner feel but I can smell ginger, sesame oil frying and I can see plates of colourful rice dishes. if I were to guess I'd say Malaysian or Thai. We walk in and wait to be seated, he turns to me and wraps his arms around me. A stand up on my toes to give him a peck on the lips. Two men walk in behind us and I know what's going to happen before it does. They're acting kind of erratic with their eyes darting around the room sort of pacing with their bodies but feet rooted to the spot. They both pull out large guns and start yelling for everyone to get against the wall and fill the corners.

I lose a minute or so. At this point I'm stood where I was and my date is already in the far right corner. I choose to go into the next room which is only separated by a sort of corrugated glass partition. As I make my way there the armed men stay in the other room. There are 3-4 people very loosely packed in the corner. I notice in front of them a small book shelf. I immediately grab the 3 largest and thickest books that I can find and shove them under my coat. One over my chest, one on my stomach and one on my lower right side which is the side facing the entryway I came in from. It's the only way in. I get into position on the floor and place myself on the outside of the grouping almost as if to bare the brunt.

One of the men enters the room and starts shooting wildly. I slink my head low enough into the front crook of my jacket where my head was partially shielded by the book covering my chest, the rest shielded by my shoulder and forearm. I felt the bullets making impact however I didn't know if any were actually penetrating me. As it continues I was paying close attention to my level of conciousness looking out for feelings of light headedness or slipping so to speak which would indicate a fatal hit.

Next moment. It was quiet. The men had gone. I quickly examined myself. I had taken several hits however the only one that managed to penetrate flesh was in my right thigh. I pulled the books out and the one covering my lungs and heart, the larger of the bunch, a dark blue one had taken 3 bullets. I ran my fingers over the impressions that the bullets left on the underside of the book pondering how close it had been.

The next moment it was long after the fact--I was showing my healing bullet wound to someone. It was a clean hole that made the entire interior of my leg, muscle and all visible right down to my ankle. As I'm showing it off I'm recounting the memory of having the bullet extracted. Next moment I'm awake.