So I'm home for the summer but it's in the early evening and I've just arrived back from the airport and it's orangy sort of night, where it's fading to purple, but not for another hour, so it's still in that pinkish orangish red. I have the rest of my luggage in the car and for some reason, I have 3 grams of weed and two packs of cigarettes and a lighter- I know because my pockets are bulging and I'm pretty conscious about what's in or goes into my pockets.
I walk my house and into my living room and a lot of random people are there, from who knows where. My friend Abha's there for some reason, I don't know why. The orange color seems to have carried in from the outside into the house and it almost feels like there's smoke in the house, but I guess that's the dreamlike state.
Everyone's talking about something as if it's a good thing and I'm not very interested in the conversations going on. I go to my room and discover that it's not my room anymore but like a weird sort of storage room that my parents made. I still have my bed there though. I feel panicked because of that, like because it's become a storage room, sooner or later it'll become full and shove me out.
I decide I need to smoke because it feels like my parents have tried eliminating me out of their lives completely so I go out and I take my dad's car keys. I try driving and I manage it pretty well after driving around the Walgreens I used to hang out at, but the car is malfunctioning and I can't tell which is the gas or break anymore because it's not responding to me. I manage to circle back in the direction of my house but the car is now moving by itself.
Everyone in the house comes out to see me for some reason and I try pulling back into the driveway but I crash into the other cars in there. I crash into them extremely slowly, like when you see sheet metal slowly scrunching up and whining. Like that.
I can feel looks of disapproval coming from my parents so I try to back out and make everything better. Everything the car gets in the way of, it seems to crash into. It's weird. The pedals seemed to be reversed for a second, but they just aren’t responding to me at all. I’m pushing down on them as hard as I can.
I somehow manage to pull up to a deserted curb of a park that I recognize because it's like a psuedo combination of my old elementary school, the end of my house's cul de sac, and an edge with a guard rail where a small creek ran underneath my school.
I'm decide to roll a spliff when I see a rent-a-cop a ways a way and I panic and ditch the spliff off of the guard rail. The car turns into a bed inside a house overlooking the cliff. The man turns into a cleaner. I tell him that my cousin owns this house and he says he knows, he's just cleaning. He goes downstairs and all the while, he's muttering about additional stuff like 'he's the CEO or something'.