This group of dreams are fading fast, I had the first in the beginning of my sleep followed by a few more which centered around the same thing – Whitey dies.
The first started out as a party at our place. I wasnt very happy with him for some reason already and when I had to leave with a friend to go get gas I was very clear about wanting him to keep people in line and have everyone gone by 2am. The place was packed, with a bunch of people I didnt even know; apparently he had invited them all. Most people were drinking heavily.. starting to fall over breaking things.
The gas station was a trip in itself, the two guys I had gone with stayed inside while I pushed the dead car from the front of the snack/food store to pump 1.4 and started filling it. I had a soaked white t-shirt that I kept carrying around with me.. really odd. We were there for quite a long time and got side tracked, when I got home it was around 4am.
All those fucking people were still there, still fucked up.. I mean I had to kick bodies out of the doorway to get in. Whitey and I had a huge blowout in front of everyone. I told him to fucking get out and never return. He left, I yelled at everyone to fucking leave.. it took me an hour to filter everyone out. Once I finally cleared off my damn bed I came to check my email. Whitey had sent me something along these lines;
I make the money
I’ve tested [insert random microsoft projects here]
I don’t have to take your shit.
Well, firstly.. we both make the money. Secondly, he would never fucking say that to me. But in this dream that just fueled me more.
He called a the cDc people, who showed up in a two vans. I was in a light one full of people, he was in another dark one full of people. I kept looking out the back window flipping him off. Everyone started mocking me which really pissed me off, because these people were supposedly my friends too. I asked where we were going, they said the Bates Motel.
Now, in this dream the Bates Motel is a mental institution. Unfortunately I’ve been there before, and I dont plan on going back any time soon. Supposedly whitey and i were going for ‘counseling’.
My minivan turned into a whirlwind of hair and arms and legs as I went absolutely crazy trying to get out. I kicked at the windows trying to break them out, grabbed at the doorhandles to get the doors open.. screamed and kicked and bit and threw myself into the drivers lap trying to make us crash. Somehow we made it up the hill to the asylum in one piece. When they finally ripped me from inside the van, the other darker one carrying whitey was nowhere to be found.
That FUCKER.
I went into a nearly comatose state trying to protect myself without ending up arrested. If you’re hardly functional it makes it harder for them to admit you because they wont know whats wrong, and on top of that you have the advantage of surprising them with an escape attempt, since they figure youre a vegetable anyway. After a while the light van left.
I sat in the middle of the cold dark floor by myself, seemingly invisible. People in their god damn fake ass scrubs walked around carrying clipboards and muttering things, some almost walking over me. I took the opportunity to walk out the door with no resistance.
Once I got home around 11am or so, I had a voice mail that said whitey had died. He had gone swimming in some lagoon and went out too far, and had just washed up on shore. How someone could ‘wash up’ from a lagoon I dont know. Or swim out too far for that matter. I didnt believe it, until I got another call from the coroner asking me to identify what was left of his body.
At this point I just started sobbing, you know not only was the love of my life dead he had died after we had fucking fought and I had kicked him out. I kept thinking over and over how I would never see him again, I’d never cut his hair again, never have to deal with his snoring again, not have him with me when I drove to work..
I woke up on the couch crying, cried another 20 minutes or so, tried to move to the bedroom, but couldnt sleep cause of his snoring.. moved back to the couch, and had another short dream in which he had died, but this time in a ‘DMA’ said his mother.
I guessed Direct Motor Accident, like a head on collision. This little 15 minutes of dream was so “Maryland” it wasnt even funny, and although whitey was the one who died his mother was more like Franks. As was the house, and the scenery. I didn’t know where I was going to go being so far away from anyone I knew, his mother said I could just stay there and I started bawling again talking about how I could never deal with that place without having him. Woke up crying again.