I had a dream that I went and visited Willow’s apartment that was somewhere. We were both sleeping on the futon in the living room (it was a small, big-city apartment; I think this was where he normally slept), when this guy showed up.
This was a guy that Willow had been corresponding with on the Internet. They’d been becoming friends, but this guy just showed up randomly, uninvited. It turned out he was a total creepazoid. Willow was trying to convince him to leave and he wouldn’t. Tension escalated until they were in a fight.
Willow knocked him down and hit him a bunch, and then decided the only way to be safe was to kill this guy, so he kept on kicking him.
I was laying in bed, acting like I was asleep. I did not want to be involved in whatever the hell was going on. But Willow came over and asked me to help load the body into his car. We put it in a garbage bag in a box and then brought it down to the car.
We were driving away, when that guy’s friends saw us and shouted after us, and then started driving after us.
A brief car-chase ensued, which the police joined. Willow found a clever way to slam on the brakes and stop the car so that he could run down this alley and then the car was blocking the alley so that he was difficult to follow. The police came and arrested me.
They asked if they could search the car, to which I replied “I won’t talk to you. I want to see a lawyer.” They explained that a lawyer would probably cause this whole thing to take a while and be complicated, and a lot of times things go more simply if I were to just let them search the car, and cooperate with them, and we could clear up this little misunderstanding. I said “I won’t talk to you. I want to see a lawyer.” They said that if I kept that up, they would have to assume I was hiding something, and that I was guilty. If I cooperated, I could just show them that I was wrong. I said “I won’t talk to you. I want to see a lawyer.” They said “Have it your way,” and then arrested me.
They put me in a jail cell with some prisoners. The prisoners asked me what I was there for and stuff. I told them that I didn’t want to talk. I was thinking that they may be spies, or there may be cameras or microphones or something.
My mom came, and I was like “Sweet. We have privileged communication. Finally, I can talk to someone about what’s going on!” But it turned out that she was the warden of the jail! So it still wasn’t safe to talk to her.
This type of stuff went on for awhile. Any time they talked to me, I would say that I wanted to see a lawyer. They never let me see one. After awhile, my head felt pretty clear of thoughts and emotions, because I thought that it would be dangerous to have thoughts or emotions. They might use them against me. When people were around, I would adopt a neutral expression and I would sit, hands on my knees, and stare forward. Left alone, I would do the same.
I think that the reason they never let me see a lawyer was because I never identified myself, so nobody knew I was there, so they figured they could hold me indefinitely because my presence there was totally secret. Thanks, Mom!