Dream of: 27 September 2018 "Overpowering Urge"

 

I think that blonde-haired Michelle (about 30 years old) is somewhere in this two-story, brick house where I find myself. People are going in and out and drug activity seems to be taking place. When someone gives me a little white pill, I am unsure whether I want to take it, but finally I stick it in my mouth and swallow it. It seems as if it may be a xanax or something similar. I quickly seem to feel the pill start to take effect.

 

Some men in the house take several people hostage. I am not allowed to leave, but I manage to go upstairs to the bathroom. I want to use the bathroom, but the toilet is stopped up. Besides that, the seat of the toilet is upside down, and I have to unscrew it to turn it around. When I finish, however, sewage is bubbling up into the commode, and I cannot sit down on it. Even though I put the seat back on the commode, I can tell that the sewage is going to overflow onto the floor of bathroom.

 

I leave the bathroom and go back downstairs where several people are still being held hostage. The two kidnappers decide to leave with their four or five hostages, including Michelle. It looks as if the kidnappers are also going to take me. Just as they all walk out onto the front porch, some young men dressed in black who look like policemen show up in front of the house. I stick my thumbs into the air to show my approval. 

 

One of the kidnappers is holding a handgun in one hand and a Campbell's soup can in the other hand. I try to point out the kidnapper by hollering to the police, "Campbell's soup! Campbell's soup!"

 

Probably 30-40 men are in the yard although they do not exactly look like policemen. Although some policemen are mixed in with them, most of them look more like young Mormon men (mostly in their early 20s), going door to door, dressed in black pants and white shirts. They quickly take the two kidnappers into custody, while the rest of us stand over to the side.

 

Suddenly I remember that I took the pill earlier. Now I am sorry that I took it, especially since I have not used any drugs like that in a very long time. Now this happens and I fret that I may be given a drug test. I know that I will not agree to take a drug test if I am asked to do so.

 

At the moment, the police just let us stand over to the side, although it does appear that they are going to take Michelle into custody. Suddenly a black-haired, virile, athletic-looking fellow (probably in his mid 30s), who looks as if he might be wearing a jogging suit with a red top, grabs Michelle by the neck and starts pulling her away. Quickly, however, he releases her and walks over to the side.

 

I walk over to Michelle, stand next to her, and refering to the fellow who had been pulling on her, I ask, "Is that your next one?" meaning is that her next boyfriend. She looks at the fellow rather lovingly and sheepishly says, "Yeeeah." I then tell her that I am not going to help her anymore. I tell her that I no longer want to have anything to do with her and that I am done with her.  Although I have helped her out of difficulties in the past, I tell her that I am no longer going to do so. I immediately walk away from her. I am ready to simply walk away and leave, but I realize that I do still care about what happens to Michelle.

 

She is standing on the porch and looking at me plaintively as I start to walk away. I nod my head at her as a sign for her to come off the porch and talk with me. As she walks toward me, I can tell that she is not going to be as friendly now that she thinks that I am giving in to her by nodding at her to come back to me again.

 

Before she reaches me, I look at the house and see fire coming out of the top of the house. Then I see that the top floor has caught fire and that one whole side of the house has fallen off. It looks as if the fire probably started in the upstairs bathroom. Instead of a brick house, the house now appears to be a wooden frame house. I can see that people are still on the second floor and that they do not even appear to realize yet that the house is on fire. Finally, however, it looks as if they are starting to exit the house.

 

I reflect that I live right across the street. I will actually be glad if this house burns down, but when the house is about half burned out, the fire just seems to go out; I think the house will simply have to be torn down now.

 

I do feel sorry for Michelle as I think about what is now going to happen to her. I think I would still like to be friends with her in some way if possible. I do care about what happens to her. Referring to everything which has just happened here, I say, "That was one of the craziest ones yet."

 

She responds, "Yeeea."

 

I ask, "What are you going to do next?"

 

She says something about "just waiting." I figure she means that she is just waiting until she has the overpowering urge to use drugs again.

 

Finally I see her standing with several other people on the other side of the street.

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