I know recounting one’s dreams is usually boring for the audience, but I have to get this one out of my head.
There were several tangents distracting from the main plot including #clevercolette not letting me in my car while my mom was driving it. I ran along the car and kept trying to get in at stoplights, but she kept putting stuff in the seats and on the floors preventing me from pushing my way in. When I eventually did get in, my mom was trying to find a car wash. The setting had changed to being in our old StarCraft van, so she could only fit it in specific washes. I finally spotted one after I got out to survey the area, and she drove off without me.
The main dream though that was incredibly disturbing began with my sister telling me about her friend, Amanda. Amanda had a sister, named Germany, whom she was worried about. Germany, who was 16, had gotten in with the “wrong crowd.” She was dropping hints that she was pregnant. Amanda was worried about Germany, because her sister was uncomfortably itchy since the beginning of the assumed pregnancy. Of course, itchiness later in pregnancy can be a sign of pre-eclampsia, but this was something else. Amanda’s concern stemmed from hearing about this predator who had impregnated 2 teen girls previously, and they both died when they reached 7 months of pregnancy. Apparently, the cause was an STD that commonly led to death of mother and baby at 28 weeks gestation. What tipped Amanda off? Germany made and ob/gyn appointment that was consistent with needing an appointment exactly at 7 months.
Enter a quick tangent. I was walking with Jonathan and telling him the drama. We both wondered why Germany hadn’t sought an abortion as soon as she knew she was pregnant. The only answer we had was that she claimed to be “Catholic Catholic.” No, I don’t know what that implies when you say it twice.
The setting changed to my sister and me watching a Dateline story about a predator named Daniel. No shock, it was the predator Amanda had told us about. However, we hadn’t ever heard what happened to Germany. My sister had to go answer nature’s call, so I was left alone to continue watching. I was horrified by the details of the story. Daniel had infected 56 teen girls within a year, and they all died. The camera panned through a room of large framed photos of these teens posing adorably in pictures their families had provided. As the camera focused on each frame, a voice shared the name of each girl. Obviously, I was already bawling at this point. I knew what was coming. “And his third victim, Germany.”
My hand was over my mouth, and I was crying and hyperventilating. My sister returned and understood why I was in such a state. I wanted to rewind the show to show her what I had seen, but she refused. I was left alone in that trauma.
The last tangent was of someone recounting the type of friend that Germany was. I was sitting at a table seeing these memories re-enacted directly in front of me. She would pass notes to her friends when important milestones happened. Her friends knew when she offered them a stick of gum that they were about to get some big news. Why the gum? Germany used to write the notes on the insides of the wrappers of gum, then she would wrap it back around and with a knowing smile offer gum to her closest friends. Several of her friends got the note that explained Germany had decided to “go all the way” with Daniel. I, who apparently in this part of the dream was a close friend of Germany, picked the piece that was the cry for help. Germany explained that she thought Daniel was the love of her life, but she had later learned about the two girls he was with previously. She was terrified and didn’t know what to do.
The narrator in my head said, “I hope there is more gum with a better twist.” And that was the end.
No, I can’t explain the narrator. My brain is weird if you haven’t been able to tell yet.
I then deviated back to the bizarre plot with my mom driving my car. This time I tried to get in the front seat, but she refused to let me in. Apparently she was angry cause I had called her a bitch the day before. I denied it and was super confused. I wondered if I had blacked out and that’s why I didn’t remember it. Eventually we figured out that she was listening in after I thought I had hung up the phone. Jonathan and I had been talking about how when my mom got divorced we had to help clean out the house I grew up in. And he said, “That was a bitch!”
Seriously though. I tend to have anxiety riddled dreams quite frequently. I wake up with a racing heart and racing mind. It’s not the most restful sleep nor is it the best way to start the day.
I’m sorry if you stuck with reading this, but maybe you can take some of the coherent parts and write a horror film screenplay.