KatieRodriguez

Non-Lucid: I was not me. I came pre-loaded with knowledge that I was an older, mid-thirties brunette woman though my name was never brought up in conversation, and so I never found it out. I was knocking on the door to a dingy apartment. I also knew that this apartment belonged to a man named Michael and that Michael had requested I evaluate him and judge whether or not he should be allowed to kill himself.

The man that opened the door had the same face as a boy I, my actual self, had known from my high-school Spanish class. though, that did not seem to faze me in the dream. He looked sad, defeated. So much so that it almost seemed to radiate from him, when I crossed the threshold to the other side of the room, I felt less affected by his gloom, but if he walked close to me, I felt depressed, myself.
"So... what now?" He said, closing the door, "Do you interview me?"
"no," I said, "you just go about your day, I'm only here to observe."

Time Lapse.

Arrive at a cafe of some kind. I'm following Michael. He ushers me ahead of him, when I try to refuse he abrasively insists. I move ahead and order only to discover I have no money. "oh for fuck's sake" Michael sighs. He pays for my food and we sit down to eat.
"So, worst date you've ever been on?" he says
"Close." I say.

My memory gets fuzzy here. But I can generally remember that upon learning more about Michael, I begin to see that, though he is sad and depressed, he is creative. And, though he is socially awkward, he genuinely cares about the good of others.
However, at the final vote, I am outnumbered and Michael is sentenced to state-assisted suicide.

I don't classify this as a nightmare, (though I felt so strongly about this dream that I woke up to tears) because even at the end, Michael was sure in his decision to die. He no longer wanted to live, and he left his world smiling.