This one starts off with me dreaming big and wild; then just ends up wild.
I was with Brittany and Dave Powell in a stretch limousine heading to a barn/cabin thing that they owned out in the woods. Brittany was driving the limo, but wasn’t sitting in the driver’s seat. Somehow she was driving from the back of the limo and I was sitting farther up than her. We were getting ready to head up a big hill and I tried to tell Brittany to let me out and I’d walk up it because if she drove up it I’d slide back and fall on her. I spoke up to late though and had to dig my fingers into the seat to keep myself from sliding.
We got to the cabin place and I knew that Dave’s mom was inside but I never went in. There were picnic tables outside all set up ready for a bunch of people to sit down and eat. Ron Kincaid, a guy from my church, was pouring drinks; one of the drinks Ron pouring was for Rodger Koker, another church guy. Rodger told Ron that he wanted some of the last of the Dr. Pepper but to give the last little bit to Jarren, Rodger’s son. After I heard that I turned around because I had heard a car door and saw the Steeleville cop getting out of a car and coming up to the barn like he was gonna be part of the party.
Then the dream completely changed, me and Robert Bosing, a friend of mine, were walking toward this tomb type thing that was on display behind some metal fences. For some reason Robert was angry with me and was doing this really annoying angry-brooding thing that was getting on my nerves. We hopped over the fence and went closer to the ruins because there was a group of people that we knew getting ready to go in.
I was one of the people who went into the cavern/tomb/ruins along with my mom, Christy McIntyre, and two other people who I knew from my church, Dawn Wilson and LaDena Farris. The outside of this thing looked kind of like the mounds in Chahokeoia (I don’t know how to spell Chahokeia) but the inside looked like ancient Egyptian stuff. We were all poking around in this cave like it was some place that we could snoop in and play around. I walked around toward the back of the room ad saw some hieroglyphics on a pedestal kind of thing for a raised platform. One of the characters looked different than the others; so I touched it. … That was a stupid move … At first nothing really happened too much, but I heard something like trickling water from underneath this large/round bottomed statue that was up on the platform. I don’t know why I didn’t warn the other people in there (I just didn’t), but I started making my way towards the entrance. By the time I made it to the front of the cave water had flooded almost all the cavern and was still rising fast. There was a bolder sitting just inside the opening that was somehow lighter than water so that when the waters rose the bolder would rise as well and seal off the entrance. Me being the first one to the bolder, because I was already on my way out, was trying to hold it back so that it wouldn’t close everyone in the cave.
All four of us got out just fine, but then the dream changed. My mom and I were back at our house and we had just knocked out the foundation to the back of our house for some reason. I was thinking that Rodger Koker, mentioned earlier, had said it needed to be done because the back part of our house was dragging down the front part. Right after we had the back end of the house resting on the ground with the floor twisted and splintered Rodger poked his head in the window. He told us that we understood him all wrong and that we shouldn’t have collapsed the back end of our house’s foundation because we were now going to have to spend 2% more on our power (or something like that).
As he was rebelling on about statistics and percentages I really couldn’t hear him because I had my head phones in. I took my head phones out so I would know what he was talking about, but the music didn’t stop. The music was somehow playing in my head. We walked out of the collapsed back end of my house and into the kitchen where Rodger was still talking and I had to confess to him that I couldn’t hear anything that he was talking about because of the music in my head. I thought to myself, Dear God! Am I like a sketso person only I’m hearing music instead of voices? When I told Rodger a friend of mine from my youth group, Michael Frederking, was there, heard, and was laughing at me. We went to walk in to the living room and Michael named off some other song than the one that was already playing upstairs and the new song started off like some special request … Then I woke up.
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