Dreams

Things have not gone for the better. Even though there is a general peace in the land I'm now starting to feel like an intruder in this place. I had no choice in the matter of my arrival here but I'm trying to make the best of it. The night sky shines beautifully yet the sand is soaked with the blood of the inhabitants of this place.
 
They came in the night, small feathered creatures came and began to stalk our camp. I was awoken by the screams of pain of Shep who was attacked. We were cornered back at camp, and I tried to scare them off but then they attacked. I was unsure on what to do so I fell back to being told what to do. Shep told me to shoot, and I did, and I killed one of them. Then they went for our food, and I kept trying to fire as they ran off with some of our rations. Some got away and then it all went quiet. I saw the blood ooze from their bodies and I passed out.
 
I dreamt of the moments back at home where I would look at the stars and their vast expanse, and I wondered what waited across the horizon. Machines craved their structure and order and all I wanted was to escape, and I finally did. Is this the truth of the experience? I acted to defend the camp and the little supplies we had but the world seems to not want us here. Where are the wonderful acts of heroism that I read, when all I see are injured and scared people trying to hold on to what little life we have.
 
I don't like what is happening anymore.