dream - Serial Killer, Stabbing in the Woods
Part I
I am a murderer. I'm living in my same house in DC, but the artwork inside our home is even weirder than it actually is. We have more things inside, lots of clutter and white sheets covering things up. I do not remember the first couple of murders, but I need someone's help to cover them up--maybe my housemates or my mother who is visiting from out of town. These murders must have been my first, because they are messy and show a certain lack of regard or forethought in planning. We throw the bodies into a large dumpster behind my house. The garbage collectors will come and empty it. They discover the bodies and I realize that they will find me out. I had just committed more murders too, but I decide to hack my victims up this time. I still felt like I should put them in the dumpster. I throw in the body parts, piece by piece--heads, torsos, arms, etc. I accidentally drop my keys inside the dumpster, and am deeply disturbed that I have to get inside and look for them. It is already getting dark when I find them, and I begin to grow suspicious and nervous around the various passersby in the alley near the dumpster. I conclude that I am a serial killer and will likely be caught and be sentenced to death. One thing though--I have no recollection of actually committing the crimes, only a feeling that I did, and that I needed to cover them up. I start to wonder why I can't remember the murders themselves. It seems fishy. I decide that I can't leave the second set of bodies in the dumpster, not with my fingerprints all over them. i somehow make everything in the dumpster into a puree, like the dumpster is a giant blender. The mixture looks like raspberry puree, so I make at least one pie from it. I decide to bury the rest. I start making plans for a garden in the backyard. My housemates come out to watch me dig, with some little girl whom Chelsea (a housemate) is babysitting in our home. The girl keeps following me and complimenting my dress, but I really need her to leave me alone. My plan is this: I will dig out an area for the garden, dump the bloody raspberry mix into the hole, cover it up, and start planting seeds.
The dream shifts and I am back inside the house, which is now also a record store. My mother and I hear on the news that some of the people I pureed actually died as a result of a murder/suicide. I did not kill them, but now the bodies were gone. I cannot fathom how they came to be in my possession, or why I thought I had killed them. Maybe I hadn't murdered anyone. What should have been relief is now a new fear that I had tampered with evidence by destroying the bodies. I would still be found out.
Part II
I am in my high school gym, getting ready. I have not been to class in ages, so I don't have anything appropriate to wear in my locker. Melinda Nelson is there, but I can't remember her name, I guess "Minnie," "Melanie," before I finally remember. She's slightly offended, but offers me her size 5 shoes to borrow anyway. I'm a size 9, but somehow they fit me. I go out to the gym for class. It's dark, and now I'm in a forest. Some camp site in southwestern PA that is vaguely reminiscent of Clarksville. My aunt lives across the street. I'm there with Dan, who is interested in dating me again. I have zero interest in him. Some other people, strangers, are at the camp site. Dan makes the mistake of making a stupid comment and offending one of them, a scruffy guy with a leather jacket. Before I can do anything, the guy pulls out a pocket knife and stabs Dan in the gut, and then starts to walk off. He doesn't even notice me. I know that I can't scream or try to get help right away, or he'll come back for me and stab me too. I press my hand against the cut on Dan's body, trying to hold in the blood, and then shuffle with us both on the ground over to the cabin door, trying to get us both in safely so that I can call 911. I wonder if this incident means that I am bound to stay with Dan now.
I am a murderer. I'm living in my same house in DC, but the artwork inside our home is even weirder than it actually is. We have more things inside, lots of clutter and white sheets covering things up. I do not remember the first couple of murders, but I need someone's help to cover them up--maybe my housemates or my mother who is visiting from out of town. These murders must have been my first, because they are messy and show a certain lack of regard or forethought in planning. We throw the bodies into a large dumpster behind my house. The garbage collectors will come and empty it. They discover the bodies and I realize that they will find me out. I had just committed more murders too, but I decide to hack my victims up this time. I still felt like I should put them in the dumpster. I throw in the body parts, piece by piece--heads, torsos, arms, etc. I accidentally drop my keys inside the dumpster, and am deeply disturbed that I have to get inside and look for them. It is already getting dark when I find them, and I begin to grow suspicious and nervous around the various passersby in the alley near the dumpster. I conclude that I am a serial killer and will likely be caught and be sentenced to death. One thing though--I have no recollection of actually committing the crimes, only a feeling that I did, and that I needed to cover them up. I start to wonder why I can't remember the murders themselves. It seems fishy. I decide that I can't leave the second set of bodies in the dumpster, not with my fingerprints all over them. i somehow make everything in the dumpster into a puree, like the dumpster is a giant blender. The mixture looks like raspberry puree, so I make at least one pie from it. I decide to bury the rest. I start making plans for a garden in the backyard. My housemates come out to watch me dig, with some little girl whom Chelsea (a housemate) is babysitting in our home. The girl keeps following me and complimenting my dress, but I really need her to leave me alone. My plan is this: I will dig out an area for the garden, dump the bloody raspberry mix into the hole, cover it up, and start planting seeds.
The dream shifts and I am back inside the house, which is now also a record store. My mother and I hear on the news that some of the people I pureed actually died as a result of a murder/suicide. I did not kill them, but now the bodies were gone. I cannot fathom how they came to be in my possession, or why I thought I had killed them. Maybe I hadn't murdered anyone. What should have been relief is now a new fear that I had tampered with evidence by destroying the bodies. I would still be found out.
Part II
I am in my high school gym, getting ready. I have not been to class in ages, so I don't have anything appropriate to wear in my locker. Melinda Nelson is there, but I can't remember her name, I guess "Minnie," "Melanie," before I finally remember. She's slightly offended, but offers me her size 5 shoes to borrow anyway. I'm a size 9, but somehow they fit me. I go out to the gym for class. It's dark, and now I'm in a forest. Some camp site in southwestern PA that is vaguely reminiscent of Clarksville. My aunt lives across the street. I'm there with Dan, who is interested in dating me again. I have zero interest in him. Some other people, strangers, are at the camp site. Dan makes the mistake of making a stupid comment and offending one of them, a scruffy guy with a leather jacket. Before I can do anything, the guy pulls out a pocket knife and stabs Dan in the gut, and then starts to walk off. He doesn't even notice me. I know that I can't scream or try to get help right away, or he'll come back for me and stab me too. I press my hand against the cut on Dan's body, trying to hold in the blood, and then shuffle with us both on the ground over to the cabin door, trying to get us both in safely so that I can call 911. I wonder if this incident means that I am bound to stay with Dan now.