My fiance Brad, and I were planning a very large project that I am unsure of what significance. It was at the airport. We blew something up, underneath an airplane, and then proceeded to use a remote control to force the plane to take off. We did not want to leave any evidence behind, so he picked up my car, which seemed merely child sized, and placed it in the back of his rather large vehicle.
The next scene, I was in the back of the plane with a young child and a grandmother (not sure if they were mine or not). We were watching a movie on the screens in which were provided for each individual seat. The plane attendant approached and told us our movie was planning too loud, so we turned it down.
The surroundings changed so we were in the back of a bus, which then turned into a blue semi truck that was chasing a blue Mustang. It was now only Brad and I in the blue mustang. The semi bumped our bumper and we spun out and flipped and rolled into a river. The mustang has vanished and Brad and I, as well as our greyhound dog, were tumbling down the river. We got tangled up with many logs that battered and bruised all of us. Brad and the dog made it to the shore as I climbed up the other side of the bank.
There were paramedics on scene to observed the dog. He was in critical condition so we had to take him to the vet. We took him to the vet and they told us he was broken everywhere but they could fix him.
Flash forward to a few weeks or months, not sure, at our home with our dog. Something clicked and I realized this wasn't our dog. Our dog died on the table and they gave us a replacement dog but told us it was the same dog.
Then I woke up.
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