Crashing

My mom is driving a van down a long, straight mountain hill. Some people who are friends in the dream and I are passengers. As soon as I comment it's a good it's not slippery, the road becomes very slippery and we go into a spinout, crossing into the oncoming lane. I don't have my seatbelt on and fumble to put it on while trying to look for oncoming traffic. We come to a rest halfway in the ditch.

The van is stuck in the ditch and for some reason we have to wait for police to show up. During that time, I buy some burgundy hair dye and tell everyone I'm dying my hair. My mom tells me I can't and I indignantly reply that although she might have once had that kind of authority over me, now that I pay rent she doesn't.

The police still haven't showed up. A car coming up the hill stops and two men with rifles or shotguns rush out of the car and try to start to fire upon us, but one of my friends immediately shoots them both. I walk to get the police while everybody else leaves the scene.

I arrive back at the scene before the police get there are there are many people around the vehicles and bodies, a young girl taking a picture of a body and a man taking a picture of her taking the picture. Lots of people are touching the vehicles and I yell to stand back, complaining everybody is getting fingerprints all over a crime scene. I pretend to be a cop by saying, "Another police officer will arrive shortly." Everyone backs away.

When an officer finally shows up, I angrily ask why it took so long to show up at a murder scene. As soon as I say it, I realize nobody saw what happened but me and I worry that by referring to "murders," the police may think the men were murdered instead of killed in self-defense. I notice there are two more bodies with gunshot wounds in the back of the car.