I'm in Rochester, driving my car past the elementary school to the top the the hill that leads down past the park. The car in front of me is moving in the same direction, but it is backward. I can see the driver's face and she is staring at me while I pick my nose. For a moment I'm afraid we are going to crash into one another because of how disorienting it is to see a car driving in reverse, but we don't. At the top of the hill I look down and realize that there is some sort of accident at the bottom. The car in front of me is a police car, and it is being dragged backward on a cable towards the mess. I manage to turn right before the scene, into the park's parking lot. I ditch my car and wander through the lot.
A familiar and yet not at all familiar boy greets me and I get into his car. He is someone from my grade's older brother. He seems very handsome. He is peeling out pretty quickly and fleeing the scene. He admits that the accident at the bottom of the hill was his fault. He was high and he hit someone riding a horse. I tell him that is awful. He hands me a packed chillum, but half of the bowl seems broken off. I take a hit and pass it back. He tells me to clear the stale smoke and make use of the carb. I don't see a carb anywhere, but I fake it and pass it back to him. He finishes the weed and admits that he was high before, but now it is just a little ridiculous. I look out the window and see sheer cliff face drop offs just past the road. I am terrified. In waking life we would be passing over a small river, but now forests tower on all sides and we are winding through very dangerous roads. His intoxication worries me, but I have dream faith and we make it through unscathed.
Turning onto hilltop I realize that asking him to take me all the way to the west side of Springfield to get to my mom's would be rude. I call Katie and tell her that I need her help. She is busy telling me where she is (not here) and what she is doing (at some lake or something, not willing to come get me) so I hang up on her mid-sentence. In the air I can see the silhouettes of peacocks flying through the sky. There are quite a few of them. They appear to be feeding. Something tells me that they are eating the dragonflies that breed in the little pond of stagnant water off to our left. My driver thinks they are quite beautiful. I am just amazed to see them flying. I offer him some money to take me home. He accepts it, but we make a pit stop at his younger brother's school.
His brother and all of his friends are desperate to ditch. They are running through the halls wildly, and eventually we clamor outside into the night. There are far too many of us to ride in the car, and I can hear the braying of dogs. The police have followed us. They scented us out. I see an abandoned police van and we all run towards it, pushing dogs out of our way to climb in and shut the door. We don't make it far. The police arrest us and take us to a large labyrinth-like facility. At this point I am indignant, aware that I was fleeing but also aware that I did nothing wrong until I got into the police van with the intent to ride away in it. No one listens to my story or my excuses, and I am taken into a room with several other girls. My high school gym teacher in the form of a police officer seems to be in charge of the room. Mrs. Taft.
Her tactics are confusing. She dumps a large bag of cheap cosmetics onto the table and allows us to dig through them. I have my eye out for brightly colored eyeshadows, and slip a few of them into my pocket. Every once in a while a girl will find a scary-looking feminine hygiene product, but like no pad or tampon I've ever seen. They look like they are designed for aliens, but with that characteristic cottony plasticy sort of strangeness. I manage to escape Mrs. Taft's room, but my arresting officer finds me in the corridor and grabs me roughly by the arm. I insist that I wasn't trying to run away, and he laughs and tells me that my entire group of criminals have submitted to drug testing and I was next. He hands me a small cup with a lid to pee in. I refuse. I demand legal documents or a lawyer or something. He tells me that he can hold me indefinitely until I submit. Coincidentally, I have to pee really bad. Both in the dream and in reality.
He leaves me to my own devices and I wander the halls. Apparently I can do whatever, as long as I don't leave. This is unspoken, but I naturally assume that my exit will be barred by some force. I wander in search of a bathroom, still holding the drug test cup. I find a waiting room like a prompt care with several unstalled toilets in a line and sit down at one. People are walking by and a few turn up their noses but I am indifferent. I don't pee into my cup at first. I leave to wander around and return later to find my urine in a larger cup in a trash can. At this point I want to leave and don't really care if my drug test comes back positive. I fill the smaller cup but don't put a lid on it. I intend to give it to my arresting officer and spill it all over his hands.
Looking up, I see a woman that appears to be my mother in an open elevator. The doors are closing. I don't try to yell or get her attention. I assume that the police have called her in to convince me to pee in the cup or scold me or something of the sort. I spend a while looking for the police man, and eventually come across a large beautiful library. People mill about everywhere, and the woman who could be my mother is standing on the end of an aisle. I approach her, but she can't be my mother. Her nose is all wrong. Comically wrong. Regardless, she knows who I am and is intent on helping me escape. There is more, but it is unrelated to this dream plot and disjointed in comparison. I was a mother at the dream-condo, which is like the real condo but much stranger. I had a sweet baby girl. I changed her diaper and wiped her cute little butt.
My dream recall is improving drastically.
