I was with my mother, walking late at night through the park towards my Portland house. Through camel's back, it seemed, and up through the hill houses. I've had this dream before. I don't remember it during my awakened state, but while I'm in the dream I just know I've been there, dreamt it, or acted in the film version. I had seen it all before and knew what was next to happen, but always with the allowance of changing things slightly as I wished.
It was snowy everywhere. So snowy the banks were high with it. I pointed to the flat sign, the signs marking important landmarks in state parks, and I told her how I'd moved here when the sign was piled feet high with snow. Even higher than now. We decided to cut through a neighbor's yard. -do you think it will be alright? -I don't know... And then we saw them, the car pulling up to the drive, the dogs bounding, and knew it wasn't. -climb over! my mom called out, regarding the gate we couldn't get to open. She was more limber, was over easily. I put my foot in the oversized slot of the chainlink fence, and she attempted to pull me. I recall my embarrassment at such clumsiness. But then, we figured to open the little bit of fabric holding shut the door by wrapping it back around whatever it was attatched to ... And through the gate, dogs bounding at my heels. Around the side of the house where there was landed haphazardly, maybe crashed, a small plane. We went in through the tail and wove around the inside. We had to crawl, it was such a small tunnel. Little windows opened outside. It was light now, and I remembered as I pushed my way through, shouldering the narrow passageway and growing hot with claustrophobia, that the end would die and we'd have to get turned around. Sure enough a box took up the rest of the way towards the front of the plane, and my head would never fit. - we have to turn around, I forgot, I told my mom. But then, there we were, in the nose of the plane! There was no way out from there so we were back through the tunnel. Then the small television screen showing the family of the house, the woman and man and their two sons. She was exclaiming about us, how they couldn't let us get away because we'd find the money and they'd get caught, etcetera. And opening the windows, trying to find one large enough to fit through. And a distance not so far to fall. Through the little window... In the yard we had to creep around... went into the shed where I saw the shadow of the man walking by with something on his shoulders... and heard her voice saying, the woman's, well, we'll get them when they try to open one of the doors to escape, the alarm will sound. And then his voice from around the corner saying, waitaminute, who left this door open... We had to make a run for it. Found a red door, one of many lining the shed walls and tried, it opened quickly and soundlessly, no alarm. Around the shed and there he was, the man, casually smiling, and my mom, frozen, sitting now on a stump and staring straight ahead. I held a stick and yelled at my mother to take one from the ground, and I tried to beat him with it but my blows fell to air, and he laughed and grabbed me. He had ahold of me, I urged her when his eyes were turned to run. She had very short hair now, was not herself at all anymore. She sat frozen. We were near a large tree, with a hollow large enough for a few to fit inside. I pushed him in; I would embrace him and perhaps have sex with him so he would be distracted from my mother's escape and her subsequent finding of police to save us. My plan started to work, he took to me. His mouth opened disgustingly, his tongue was a dark green swampish color, and his teeth were small and square, brown at the edges. I couldn't taste anything from him. Then I heard & saw them, the woman with the children and their two adult friends, throwing and catching a ball and headed right where we were. My mother still frozen outside the tree and I, pushing him further into the hollow, to keep hidden from the woman. The small boy looked at my mother, and the woman yelled out, what are you doing here! and the boy said, I like her, she babysat for me before, she's nice... but she had ahold of my mother. The woman called her husband's name over and over, drawing nearer to us. He held quiet, and she turned to her sons and told them that their father had died. A moment later she was in the hollow with us, she and the small boy, and all were celebrating the father's still being alive & with them. But you! she screamed evily at me. I had to run! My mother urged me, crying, to run, and I did towards the back of the yard, up a mound of dirt... I couldn't get away, but I knew where I would go, as I'd lived all this before. Into the house and up the stairs, the woman on my heels reaching and screaming. My mother following quickly behind. And into the room, the bedroom and bathroom that would be my prison... I locked and bolted the door and noticed the room was much more messy than before; in my memory this room, my new home, was void of excess debris... just a small bed with red blanket, a red toilet & sink, and the tiny television with the program I would have to watch over and over forever... these were all accounted for, but the floor was littered with objects and clothing, things from my real past, my real bedrooms in all the days gone. The door had a window on it and I could see on the other side the woman frantically trying to open it, my mother and her crying horror-ridden face on the other side... I closed the blinds on them and proceeded, but the state of the room held me fast in such confusion. In the original version of this situation I would have poured water on the television from which blared the program about molestation. The latin name for molestation is something that I cannot now recall, but the woman and her husband were my accusers, they thought me to be a molester. A molester of what was unclear, I assumed children but couldn't be sure. I was innocent of any allegations. They made their righteous christian film about how dangerous people like me were, and how we could be saved by joining them. I was meant to watch this film continuously until my molesting existence vanished. And in the original version of this story, I doused the television in water from the sink which caused the plug to spark and a fire to take the room and everything and everyone else, in a conflagration ending this experience in a way I felt was fair. But now, with all these objects, I couldn't focus; and there she was, in the room with me now, so I threw the water on her and she screamed & cried out, and I beat her with an old christmas cookie tin, and she fell and I poured her with water and threw the objects laying about at her head until she was covered in them and dead.
