Troubled Dreams

It was late at night and I was driving home along highway 80 in a minivan that my family had a long time ago. I missed my exit and several after it due to the fact that I was reading some kind of magazine. I eventually drove into an area that looked like a huge industrial chemical complex, only the lights were all these strange colors: faded out greens, purples, oranges, and yellows. Marveling to myself at how much the area had been built up since I moved away, I took an exit to turn around and head back home. Unfortunately there were police cars pulling up to the end of the exit ramp with their lights flashing. I served to the side to let them pass and they pulled in all around me. The police jumped out and surrounded a vehicle a little further up the road that I couldn't see. Suddenly I was in the backseat of the van but I somehow put the van in park and let off the brake. Since I was in a somewhat awkward position for doing so the van shifted a bit and a cop turned around and told me to not move my vehicle. I explained that I was putting it in park and he nodded and continued what he'd been doing. At this point someone with a bullhorn said, "Ok, all you kids move away from the vehicle." Some kids and teenagers started moving past me from whatever the police were surrounding, and five of them just got into the van with me. An older guy got into the driver's seat and started to drive us away. At this point I thought something might be wrong but none of the police said anything so I figured they wanted for these kids to get away from the scene of whatever had been happening.

We arrived back, only my house seemed to be this huge shack located in giant hub area of this dried up sewer system. I managed to snag the keys as all the kids got out of the van. I sheepishly asked my Dad if it was alright if we had some more over for dinner. He said fine and for a while everything seemed to be going normally. But I eventually realized that the kids at my house were trying to come up with some sort of escape plan, so I decided to call the police. I moved up the street from everyone so that no one would hear the phone call and came back to the van, only this time it was a hollowed-out shell connected directly to the ground on the inside, but tall enough to stand in. I got in and pulled out my cell phone and tried to dial 911, only I couldn't seem to get the 11 part right because I suddenly had my glock in my hand. My cell phone started to play a radio broadcast that police were asking for information leading to the arrest of five escaped kids and as soon as I heard that I finally got the number dialed. One of those automatic call routing systems answered and I waited until the option to talk to a dispatcher came up and madly jammed that number on my phone. I told the person who answered that I had the five kids here and they asked my where I was. I gave them the address for my real house and they asked what the fifth number was for. I realized that we weren't living there anymore and started to look around, since I didn't know the address for this house. I saw signs with the addresses of the houses around me, and told them we were just down the street from those.

I hung up the phone with my gun still in my hand, pulled out my flashlight, and left the van. The first four kids I found I flashed with my light and that seemed to freeze them even though they were obviously unimpressed with my display of force. I then moved into a tunnel where I knew the older guy who'd driven the van was. I found him working on some sort of device, so I stood him up and had him start to back up. One of my sisters told him not to try anything because I had a lazer and suddenly my lazer sight turned on, only it was this giant faded-out crosshair that completely encircled the kid's torso. The sight stopped working as we reached the blocked off end of the tunnel. He reached into his coat and I tensed up, but he only pulled out some papers. I told him if he did that again I would kill him and he started to mock me. He jammed him hand back into his coat and I pulled the trigger but nothing happened. He continued to mock me with his hand in his coat, "Hah! You've never even fired a gun in your entire life!". I cleared a round that had stovepiped and knocked off another round that seemed to be sticking out of where the guide rod should be, while accidentally knocking off several strange parts my gun doesn't actually have. I then jammed the weapon into his chest and pulled the trigger again. Still it did not fire, but the kid fell apart into a pile of mechanical pieces anyway. I started to put the fallen pieces of my gun into a small box nearby and was bemoaning to myself that I'd have to go to court for this when I woke up.