I'm at a party in a small, sparsely decorated apartment. There's about ten people sitting
on a two sofas facing each other, motioning emphatically with their hands and talking -- but
there's no sound. Everything is tinted lightly red, like I'm wearing some rosy colored
glasses. It makes me uneasy. I notice that my uncle Ken is at the party and greet him.
He extends to me a fistful of sticky, fuzzy, emerald colored marijuana in one hand and a
clear plastic baggy of mixed pills in the other. I'm excited by the gift, but a bit bothered
that he's so open about our transaction. I move closer to him and try to use my body to block the
view of the other people in the room, but at this point I notice they've all ceased their silent dialog and have turned to stare at us in expressionless silence.
I feel very uncomfortable and I try to put the drugs in my pocket, out of sight. Another
uncle of mine present at the party, Dave, is alarmed by the transaction and confronts Ken and I
about the drugs. He's protective of me and angry at Ken for encouraging my habit.
Again, the confrontation is silent and everything is communicated in thoughts rather then words.
He expresses to me that he wants me to surrender my drugs. Afraid he's going to take them away,
I open the bag of pills and stuff a handful in my mouth. He's not going to get them from me!
Suddenly, I realize that it wasn't really the brightest idea to put a handful of unknown pills in
my mouth, so I drop both the bag of pills and the weed, make a muffled, guttural sound and
race off to the bathroom to spit them out into the sink.
When I return, Ken conveys to me that Dave took the drugs and left the apartment, so we head
out the door in pursuit. Outside it's dark, but the sky is illuminated in a deep reddish-orange
color. Looking down the street, I see Dave's truck peeling out at a stop sign. As he's
accelerating, his truck starts to fishtail and begins to spin around, veering into the
left lane of oncoming traffic, where a speeding 18 wheeler smashes into him at full speed,
obliterating his truck and sending flaming debris skidding down the road back towards me.
The sound of my choked sob
bing is the first and only sound I hear in the dream.
Dave was only trying to help me and now he's dead.