Biochem major terror with an ist

You see what I did there?  In hopes of not getting flagged by immigration trolling for green card holders to remove from this country?

What could possibly drive me to risk being expelled from classroom USA?  I had this dream last night that kept repeating, with minor variations, like a sort of narrative morse code.

I was a hovering spirit watching an 18 year old boy sign up for his first semester of classes, over and over, but each time at a different college.

The first time he was in his living room talking to his father about his upcoming freshman year at University of Texas.  The boy was tall, broad-shouldered and well built but nerdy, with glasses and a pale, slightly sweaty complexion.  He wore a white and brown striped button down shirt with chest pocket, from which an actual pencil, in a pocket protector, protruded.  His hair flopped into his eyes every time he looked down at the catalog to write his latest selection onto a school form.

The next scene was a television newscast describing a grisly scene at the University of Texas.  The date scrolling across the ticker was November 17.  The boy's picture, a still taken of him in the same striped shirt, displayed in the upper right hand corner, was labeled simply, "suspect still at large."

Now the boy was wearing a purple button down shirt and talking amiably with his aunt while filling out a freshman schedule for fall quarter 2013.  He had not aged.  There were no signs of depression or psychosis in his eyes, simply curiosity and thoughtfulness as he pondered the academic year ahead, mapped out his near-future in strings of 7 character codes: Biol 160, Chem 112, Phot 110, Calc 199.

Next I was on a street corner.  Two teenage girls stood at a bus stop, smoking, shivering in the cold.  Beside them the newspaper vending machine front page showed a blown up image of the boy, purple shirt, glasses, staring expressionless into some school ID camera.  The caption: "A troubled student at the University of Arkansas turned a simple fall day into a nightmare for hundreds of his Biochemistry classmates."

Back to another living room, this one in Somewhere, California.  The boy.  A new shirt, same glasses, visiting his big brother.  Registration form for fall quarter classes at Pacific University.

I don't know how many times this dream repeated before I woke.  Often enough to make an impression that lasted over an hour while I did Morning Chores before having time to sit down and write.

FTR I didn't feel a huge sense of terror or fear, or imminent danger.  It was an emptier, colder emotion than that.  If this dream was a message, it was not a literal one.