My friend got killed in a conflict, possibly a war. I felt his body getting cold in my arms in the trenches. He wore a white t-shirt, now bloody. We were in civilian clothing. He wore jeans, me some ensemble that appeared to be a dress suit. As if I was to go out on either a date or some fancy party before things went down.
With my now dead buddy's card I bought a pack of cigarettes. With the intention to smoke them at his funeral. But people mistook me for him and I didn't have the nerve to tell them he was dead.
So in the late evening, I took his body to his home and bedroom, dragging him like he was really, really drunk and even his mother fell for it. She welcomed me into their home and made me homemade fries with some vegetables. I helped cut the potatoes, convincing her her son was sleeping it off. Had dinner with them before so it was all perfectly normal. I also found it normal they had a pet tiger on the premises.
So I came up with the idea of dragging my dead friend's body outside, next day in the early morning before anyone would be awake and blame the tiger for his death. Started dragging the body out of his room ('Nice detail by the filmmaker!' I thought, seeing dozens of flies hovering over the body, of which the eyes were sown shut), unto the patio which was directly outside the bedroom. Heard a noise and got scared so left the body where it was, covered with a brown woolen blanket with three single and small stripes: red, white and black. Tried to hide behind the shed, cowering but was detected by Mrs...? (Forgot her name), my friend's mom.
She invited me out to the garden to meet a young lady who I immediately 'clicked' with and who I swapped underwear with for unknown reasons. Most likely just for laughs. I walked her up to a nearby (about two miles in a North Eastern direction) outdoor shopping centre. Where she met up with a (female) friend to go somewhere where she would one day take me too. A powerplant? A military complex? Where her father worked? 'You're smiling because you know what I'm wearing, right?', she said cheekily before we parted.
I met up with a friend and together we walked back 'home'. From a short distance I pointed him the huge homemade winding stairs (that obviously needed some serious maintenance) going around an enormous and obviously old tree. 'Let's get up there one day, yeah?' 'Yeah!' Back on the terrain there was a dark coloured car on the grass. In the back seat my friend's dad, panicking. In the driver's seat (on the right side of the (English?) car his wife, bend over the steering wheel and in obvious pain, bleeding from a head wound. Next to her an unknown brown haired young woman. Babysitter? Dog walker for the tiger? Household help? Friend of the family? A friend of her son's?
'We don't have insurance! Could you have caused the accident please?' They obviously knew that as a foreigner I was insured and my insurance would cover the costs. I didn't have a car myself so decided was the story would be that I had borrowed a friend's car and - because of my clumsy dealing with the for me unknown controls had accidentally hit their car, just as they excited the driveway and I was making a turn to drive up. All we needed to find was the other car.
When I spotted a (white) car on their grounds (possibly from the young passenger or from the interesting young woman I had walked to the shopping centre) with the passenger door (right side) already open, I knew that was the car I would make a dent and a few scratches in by bumping it into the car of my dead friend's mother. When I hastily walked towards the car to set the insurance scam in motion, some idiot outside my (real life) home honked his or her car horn (for no other reason than to let someone know the lift had arrived. And to be a selfish a-hole who's too lazy to get out and ring the doorbell or simply call or send a text), woke me up (6.30 in the morning, for f*ck's sake!) and ended the dream.
