I had a dream that me and a friend were running in the middle of the night by a highway. We were carrying a dead man’s body in two large black trash bags. I was lugging the body and my friend was carrying the guy’s head.
A creeper guy approaches us, stops us, and then attacks us. I throw him over my back and then break his arm. We leave him on the side of the street.
My friend and I bolt to an older mustang car that appears out of nowhere. My friend hops into the driver’s seat while I dump the body into the second row seat.
Before I get into the passenger’s seat, I glance over the rooftop of the car and see a police car across the street from us. I get into the passenger seat and then tell my friend to “step on it.”
We don’t get far.
I tell my friend to let me handle it.
I get out of the car and then say, “good evening officer, nice night for a drive, isn’t it?”
He questions what we are carrying into the car.
I begin to tell this elaborate story about how my family member’s been lynched and we were headed to the hospital.
I know the dead guy’s head was chopped off at the beginning of the dream, but somehow it sewed itself back onto the rest of his body.
The policeman shines a flashlight (that appears out of thin air) towards the window. He sees the mutilated person, who is twitching and apparently alive again.
I could feel the tension that my friend felt and then she pulled on some “water works.” She tells the policeman that we’re wasting our time being here. Can’t he see that the guy in our backseat is dying?
The policeman says he’ll escort us to the nearest hospital.
I get back into the car as my friend turns on the car and then starts driving again.
“Got ‘em,” I say (whatever that’s supposed to mean).