One night, when I was fifteen, I had the most vivid dream about riding in a car. Most of my friends started driving before I did, so it wasn't unusual for me to dream about riding in their cars.
The odd thing about this particular dream was that instead of sitting in the front passengers seat, I was sitting in the back set behind the driver. Trisha was driving, and I could see she was going to hit a telephone pole. So I put my knee's against the back of the front seat, wedged my back against the back seat, and covered my face with my hands.
From that night on, I couldn't get this stupid dream off my mind. For months after, I became absolutely phobic about riding in cars. Whenever I was forced to ride in a car, I would torture myself with flashes of violet car crashes.
One night, I went with three girl friends to the drive-in movie. Trisha was not one of them. Mary, the driver, was drinking Bacardi and Coke that night.
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