Two high school girls are walking back to their pickup truck. It's at night, so the girls are worried. I'm one of the girls. As we near the truck, I feel a sense of foreboding. Men are near by and they will rape us if they get their hands on us. As we get near the truck, I show my girlfriend and say, "Run!" I'm fumbling for my keys. She's ahead of me so I shove her and yell, "Lock the door, quickly." She is incredibly slow. Two men are in the pickup bed coming for the door. I scramble over her and reach for the back button. Just as I hit the button, the man in a red cap grabs the door handle. It's a tussle. I'm nearly paralyzed with fear. I get the door locked and now I have to roll up the window. I barely get it closed. They're trying to force the door open. I turn on the ignition and gun the motor. I try to shake them off. They hang on and get into the pickup bed. I careen around the streets to shake them off. I suddenly stop because there's a fallen tree across the road, with its branches strewn around. I back up and turn around. I finally get rid of the rapists but I must hurry back home to safety. Now the roads are snowy. The pickup truck is now a tape recorder we're pushing up the hill. Other cars are in our way. One skids out of control. I have to gun the motor and try to get around. I feel my friend gasp and say, "Oh! Be careful." I make it, and then I'm aware that to gun my motor too much will be hazardous, and I'll spin my wheels to no avail. With tricky driving, I am making it up the hill. Sometime I reach out to a clothes rack full of clothes on the right side of the road to pull myself along. Then I'm in a "boxcar" thinking and I'm talking to a "brother." One of us has to go out there and get to safety. Now I'm the brother and my sister tells me to go out there. I say sarcastically, "Thanks a lot!" She tells me why it's me that should go out there; it's something about protecting her.