Bizarre Dream #5

An unknown male and I were coming from someplace.  While I was dreaming, I knew who it was, but now that I’m awake I’ve forgotten.  It’s someone that I know well.  I can see his physique but I can’t see his face anymore.  We’re coming from someplace–a sporting event.  Either we were spectators, or we were participating but it was definitely someone kind of sporting activity.

We’re walking through a neighbourhood.  It’s Jacksonville, an area I know well by reputation only.  The reputation isn’t good.  It’s not a place that I would frequent.  We’re approaching a corner and there are a lot of people outside.  It’s law enforcement but like special law enforcement.  Most are plainclothes cops, SWAT team guys and a whole bunch of crime scene investigators.  There are two dead bodies on the ground.

My friend says, “Oh shit. Lay down on the ground.”

I look at him like he’s crazy.

“Just lay down.”

Very unsure of myself, I lay down.  I have no idea why he wants me to lay down.  I get this sense of urgency that if I don’t lay down on the ground something is going to happen.

“Play dead.”


“Just do it.”

Uhm.  Okay.  I don’t know how to play dead other than to be real still and try not to appear breathing.  I do this, but my breathing pattern is all irregular because I’m nervous and I don’t understand why I’m supposed to lay down and play dead on a street corner in Jacksonville.  As I close my eyes, my unknown friends nods his head at one of the crime scene investigators.  They definitely know each other but I don’t know the other guy.

I’m laying on the ground for a long time.  People are shouting and running around.  Even though I’m supposed to be playing dead, occasionally I open my eyes to see what is going on.  Every time I do that my friend tell me to close my eyes.  Suddenly he is in some kind of uniform.  He’s not a cop or anything, but he’s wearing the same type of clothes the crime scene guys are wearing.  So now he’s law enforcement?  I don’t know.

After awhile, some really bad looking guys show up.  I was peeking again and these guys look like Colombian drug lords.  Not that I’ve ever seen any Colombian drug lords but these guys look like they are mixed up in some shit.  My friend tells me to be real still.  “Don’t even breathe.”

I do as he says.  I don’t know these Colombian drug lord guys and I don’t want to, but I feel like I’m mixed up in some shit I don’t even understand.  Even though my eyes are clothes somehow I know they are going through the crime scene looking at all these dead bodies.  I don’t know if they are the killers.  I don’t know who they are.  If they are, how come no one is arresting them?  How come they get to walk through the crime scene?  There is a crowd of bystanders and they aren’t allowed to walk through the crime scene, so what makes these guys so special?

After the longest time ever, my friend and some black guy I don’t know come up to me and start whispering.  They say they are going to put me in a body bag and that my job is almost done.  I want to start freaking out but I get that feeling that freaking out is not a good idea right now.  First, the black guy tries to put a plastic bag over my head.  It’s the same type of plastic bag you use at the grocery store to put your produce in. I’m like… What the fuck is that?  When they remove dead bodies from a scene, they don’t put a plastic bag on first, but he really wants to do this.  He says he’s going to put a hole in it so I can breathe.

“Just do it!”  Suddenly the dead body next to me is talking.  He is not dead.  He’s a faker just like me.  Okay, I’m confused.

So Black Guy puts the plastic bag over my head.  I can breathe, and then they lift me up into the body bag.  This is very creepy.  I’m supposed to be dead but I guess I’m in rigour mortis now, so I’m supposed to be all stiff.  I don’t know.  I don’t know anything about being dead.  They carry me into an open garage type thing.  Somehow I can see all this even though I’m zipped up in a body bag.

They throw me on top of a pile of bodies.  It is so creepy.  You have no idea.

Suddenly my bag is open and I’m kind of sitting up.  There are crime scene guys all over the place.  One guy shouts at me, “The next time you’re supposed to be a dead body, don’t wear so much fucking makeup.”

I don’t know if I’m still supposed to be dead so I didn’t say anything, but my friend was like, “Chill out.  She didn’t know she was going to be doing this.”

There was some more activity, but I can’t remember what it was.  And then I woke up.

What the fuck was that about?


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