Dream Journal
I was at a party at someone’s house. It may have had something to do with school, because a few teachers were sitting in the living room - the ‘adult’ room - talking.
I found myself in the small bathroom with a male friend. He was a physical compilation of Damon Absher and Keith Beachy, both I knew in high school. There was a bar of soap that, although it looked like plain ivory soap, was really some expensive and nasty illegal drug. Because of all the adults at the party, we had to get rid of this substance.
He, in a sort of frantic hurry, showed me what we had to do. We had to take this bar of soap and shred it into unrecognizable shavings. On the counter was a machine that looked like a meat grinder, blender, and cheese grater all mixed into one. He put the bar of soap in the top of the machine and turned it on.
The machine took a very long time to shred the bar of soap. Apparently it was much harder than a bar of soap because the machine kept trying to push it out of the top. After it was all ground up, my friend instructed me to finish the rest of them. I looked over onto the counter and saw what looked like a package of 6 individually wrapped bars of soap, but I knew that they were all this drug.
There was also a beautiful dark blue perfume bottle sitting on the counter. I opened it up and saw dark green pellets of powder floating in liquid butter. This powder was another drug, and my friend had tried to disguise it by mixing it with melted butter.
After a few more bars of fake soap had gone through the machine, the machine got very hot. My friend kept loading the top of it with more soap, hoping to speed up the process. I watched underneath the machine and saw that it was bright red and smoking. My vision blurred. I thought that the machine was either going to blow up or melt into a pile right there on the counter. Neither of those things happened.
I decided that I was going to distract the adults out in the living room. I grabbed the blue bottle with the really illegal powder drug and turned to leave the bathroom. I saw that a white bottle had been placed in front of the door - which was just a curtain. I figured that the wind had been blowing the curtain in, and my friend had placed the bottle there so that we would not be exposed in destroying evidence.
I moved the bottle and, just as I had expected, the curtain blew in. I turned left from the hallway and stepped into the living room. A male teacher was in a plush chair right in front of me. I gave him the bottle and told him that I had found it in the bathroom. I also told him that I thought it was an illegal substance. He took it and thanked me.
I went back into the bathroom and told my friend what I had done, expecting him to be grateful. Instead he was quite angry that I had drawn that attention to the bathroom and illegal drugs. I then walked back into the hallway, poked my head into the bathroom at him still grinding the soap, and said, ‘see you later.” He was shocked that I was leaving, but wouldn’t dare leave the rest of the soap not ground.
I ran down the hallway and out the door. I wanted nothing to do with those soaps or anything else in that bathroom. I ran around the building and saw a car. Needing to hide from the car, I ran onto a wide path and around a fenced and overgrown garden. Inside the garden, in the back, was a girl in her early 20s with a gun. She pointed it at me and I dropped to the ground in the middle of this path.
Around the corner on this path came driving the car that I was hiding from. Knowing I was in the dead center of the path, I lied down as flat as I could so that the car would go over and not squish me. It passed safely, but the back axle brushed the top of my butt. After the car passed, I convinced the girl that I was not an enemy and that we had to have a better hiding place.
We ran into the woods and met up with another girl about the same age. It was nighttime and we had come to a dead end. The girl with the gun had told us that she was running from her husband who had cheated on her. I asked her if she knew of some place where we could practice target shooting. She got a gleam in her eye, and then ran through the brush on a well-covered path.
We followed her to a large building in the middle of the woods. The building was unfinished; the walls and floor and ceiling were still plywood. To get in, the girl who had the gun grabbed a rope and swung over a large hole. She tossed the rope back and then disappeared around the corner. The other girl grabbed the rope and tried swinging over as well, but the rope only swung about half way and then stopped. She was left hanging over the middle of the hole.
The first girl came up behind me and told me that she had let down the stairs so that we didn’t have to swing over. Then she saw the other girl. She mentioned that had happened to her last time her and her husband and the other girl (his other girl) came out here. She realized that he had rigged the rope on purpose so that she wouldn’t be able to get inside.
After we all got inside, we lined up and started shooting at the opposite wall. It felt very freeing to be able to shoot at nothing like that. All of a sudden, there were a line of people, women, men, and children, standing along the wall at which we were shooting. I kept shooting and was amazed when my bullets dodged the people. They refused to be hit.