We were heading north on the 101. We were near the ocean just south of Santa Barbara. My mother was driving. My brother Ray was sitting in the passenger seat, resting on the door, and airing his smelly feet out the window.
I was worried that the door would open, and he would fall out. That did not happen. Instead, he slowly began drifting out the window. When I realized he was going to fall, I shouted for my mother to slow down. For some mysterious reason, she was not able to. Ray slipped from the car and hit the asphalt hard.
My mother finally managed to stop the car on the narrow shoulder. We got out and ran toward Ray. We both tried calling 911. I was having trouble with my phone. It kept dialing the numbers backwards. My mother was able to get a hold of someone but started complaining when they wanted to charge her $20. I screamed at her to accept the charges. She then wanted me to take the charges.
Meanwhile, Ray was lying in a ditch on the side of the freeway. He was playing like he was fine but was struggling to stand.
When I woke up from the dream it was 3:36 a.m. I had a hard time getting back to sleep. I was worried about my brother.
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