Dream of: 06 December 1992 "Disposing Of A Body"

While I was serving time in a jail cell which I was sharing with a black man (about 40 years old), Louise showed up, killed my cellmate, then left me alone in the cell with the dead body. Since I didn't know what to do with the body, I finally decided to stash it inside the mattress of my bed. After I had crammed the body into the mattress, I hoped no would discover the body, but I was concerned that someone might detect the odor of the decomposing body. 

A young man in a cell right across from me knew what had happened, but I didn't think he would tell anyone. Nevertheless, I was concerned the prison officials would find out.


While looking out the window of my cell one day, I saw some boys (10-15 years old) in the courtyard of the prison. They were also prisoners. As one fat boy (wearing a white tee shirt) fought with another boy, sat atop the other boy, and held him down, two other boys tried to stab the fat boy in the back with homemade knives. A prison official walked up and stopped the fight. 


I had been in prison (which now seemed more like my home) for about a year and the body was no longer in the bed. I had dug a hole and buried the body. But I was still concerned about the body and over the last year I had been slowly disposing of the body by digging it up and gradually cutting off little pieces and a disposing of them. But some of the body still remained. I thought of flushing some of the body down the commode. I might cut off a little piece of the thumb and flush it down the commode.  


I was outside the prison, about a block away, walking from it. I had discovered how to leave the prison for a short walk and then return. The person living in the cell across from me (now a woman about 40 years old, instead of a man) was walking with me. I talked with her a little. She knew all about the body. 

I also asked her where I could find some juice to drink and she told me where I could find some juice inside the prison. There was a juice machine in there. She mentioned something about lawyers drinking juice because apparently lawyers were inside the prison. 


The woman and I (along with one of my guards) were sitting together in a car right outside the prison. From outside, the prison resembled an old schoolhouse which had been converted into a prison. 

A big short-haired brown dog ran up to the car. I had first been forced to keep the dog with me in prison, but now I had been forced to keep the dog outside. I asked the guard if I could take the dog back inside with me, and he said the dog was too old to take back inside (to me the dog looked young). I hugged the dog which I loved. I wanted to take it back in with me, but they wouldn't let me.

The woman and I talked and the subject of the dead body arose. She wanted to know what had happened to all the pieces. I intimated that I had given some bones to the dog. I knew this sounded rather gruesome, and as I thought about it, I wasn't sure I had actually given any bones to the dog. After all, a person's bones were so large, the dog might not have been able to eat them, and if I had given the bones to the dog, they might have been found and traced back to me. I thought actually I had simply broken up the bones bit by bit and gotten rid of them.


I was in my cell, surprised to have been given a little money (including two silver dollars) by the prison officials. But I was concerned the money might somehow be traced back to the dead body, and I was uncertain what I should do with the money. I thought I might give one of the sliver dollars to the woman in the cell across from me.  I looked at the dates on the silver dollars, which were in fine condition. I liked the looks of them.


I was in my cell. After having been so concerned for so long that someone might discover the body, I had finally disposed of the entire body. I didn't think any trace of the body remained or that anyone would ever be able to trace the body back to me.

But I still felt guilty about killing the man. Suddenly, however, I recalled that Louise, not I, had killed the man. I had simply disposed of the body. I felt much better realizing I wasn't the guilty one. My present sentence in prison might even soon end and I might be able to leave and live a life again. I had despaired of being free again, but now that I knew I hadn't killed the man, I thought my freedom might indeed be possible.

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