I was living my current life, with the kids and Lisa and a house of our own (although it seemed to have the layout of the upper flat of my Grandma's house). There was a mishap with our national defense, some minor but fatal flaw that allowed a enemy nation to invade us from the South. No, it wasn't Mexico. If I remember correctly, it was an Arab nation located in Latin America.
Because of this flaw in our defense the invasion was succeeding, and it soon became obvious that Milwaukee would fall. I began to make plans to evacuate and head up North but Lisa pointed out that all roads out of the city were hopelessly jammed. I thought of of using our bikes and the bike stroller, although the thought of making all the way to Lisa's friend Jolene's house was daunting.
Then another shot to the heart: Jolene refused to house us, even if we brought a tent and stayed in the yard. We were stuck in the city.
The enemy arrived. Reports came that they were on 7th and Center, then 16th and Greenfield; ridiculous, as both locations imply invasion from the north. Anyhow, the clincher was when local radio station 102.9 changed it's frequency to 106.9 - for some reason, going up on the dial was a clear sign the city was doomed. Reports were coming in that every house was being searched, ransacked, and worse.
Lisa and I were a lost cause. Even my friend Tre, with his additional cash reserves, couldn't find a way out and was running out of time.
I piled clothes in the front closet, piles and piles of clothes and told the kids to hide behind them. I handed them bottles of water and some food, and begged them to be quiet. At the last moment I handed YaYa a hammer with a prybar at the end - a tool that I inherited from my paternal Grandfather in the real world - and told her to use it to defend her siblings. If the worst comes to pass, and all hope is lost, I said, use it to spare the kids from the horrors of capture.
There was the sound of boots on the stairs, and I woke up.
Yeah. Not a restful night of sleep.