These dreams are getting out of hand

I was getting into a car outside Wa-wa convenience store and I was looking a lot like Jessica Simpson. I could feel my body and inside everyone around me. In a backseat, pressed against the window between inconspicuous bodies, two men I can’t remember
and a girl in front bit I still couldn’t get over how dark it was.

I made eye contact with our driver in his rearview.
His eyes tore through me, his smile made my stomach turn.
He knew something I didn’t.

To ease my discomfort I tried asking questions.
He didn’t respond until we dropped off the other girl. That’s when things got hazy. For a moment I may have been the girl leaving.
The guys got out at the next stop, leaving me alone with the driver. At that point I was the only one left in the car. I saw lips moving and it looked aggressive. The driver persuaded them back into the car.

Part of me felt relief for having thought I was the girl that escaped or because the guys got back into the car.

As we drove away again it was back to silence and eye contact with. We passed the yellow house with a red ribbon and the Deleware river split open and pouring into the streets from recent storms.

When I turned from the window I looked at the driver who turned back in his seat and muttered words. It was a silent film. His back cracked open and out of which grew two enormous wings. Like a an eagle or dragon or a combination of both more petrified than I had ever seen. Was this the angel of death? With his large talons he the skulking beast grabbed us in his claws over the WaWa and the girl we left behind.

I was frozen still when I woke up. And I was in a bedroom that resembled my mothers in Yardley. I was wrapped in a down comforter.

Petrified I dreamed of him again. Only this time the man was in my bed or a bed, he wasn’t the beast from before but similar, maybe in the sexual way and this dream seems a little more suppressed.