Dream of: 27 November 2008 "Wrecking Devastation"

While I was in a house where I was living (it seemed like the Seventh Street House inside, a house which I owned in Portsmouth), two girls (probably 15-16 years old) came to the front door. When I stepped behind the door so I could see them through the window without opening the door, they tried to look through the front windows. As I wondered what I would do if the girls tried to break into the house, I saw them climbing through the side windows in the middle downstairs room. As they both stuck their legs through the windows, I first wondered what it would be like to shoot them, then I actually shot them both in the legs with a handgun, taking care not to hit the bone. I simply wasn't going to allow them to enter my house like that.

I didn't want them to lie on the floor and bleed to death. Almost immediately the police showed up and I told the police I had only been defending my property. They asked questions and more police swarmed in. Finally one officer said I was under arrest. I was astounded because I thought I had had the right to defend my property.

The girls stood up from the floor. They didn't even seem angry when they looked at me. I realized they hadn't meant any harm and I began to regret having shot them. We probably could have had a good time together if I had wanted. More and more people came into the house and I asked the police if they were going to give any medical attention to the girls, but the police didn't seem interested in doing so and finally the girls simply left.

The police began searching the house. When they left me alone downstairs while they went upstairs, I thought to myself I could escape if I wanted to. I knew they were going to start searching for drugs and I knew I didn't have any drugs, but I thought someone else might have left some drugs in the house. I was a little worried someone might have dropped a pill on the floor.

I stayed downstairs for quite a while before I finally went upstairs, which contained the same two rooms as the Seventh Street House, plus an additional room where the walk-in attic normally was. All the rooms were empty with no furniture. About 10 police were in each room and they were in the process of tearing up the carpet and tearing off the bottom padding of the carpet, obviously searching for drugs.

I stood in the hallway and watched. When a girl walked past me, a black police officer said the girl had said I had been with her. I hadn't paid any attention to her when she had walked past, and I didn't know who she was. The black officer acted as if I had committed a crime by being with the girl. I repeated that I didn't even know the girl, and I said, "I don't know whether she was black or white."

The black officer picked up on what I had said and he insinuated I had said something bad about blacks. As he continued on about how it was alright to be with black girls, I thought he certainly seemed to know a lot about black girls and I said, "Maybe they ought to be investigating you."

I finally walked into the back room where I discovered the police busily ripping up the floorboards. They had already torn up the floor in a big part of the room. I looked at the floor and said, "Oh, man, you gotta be shitting me!"

They were tearing the whole place apart, wrecking devastation. I thought perhaps I should call an attorney. Smith (a Portsmouth attorney) passed through my mind. Perhaps I should call him so I could have a witness to what was taking place.  

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