The Dream - Challenge Post #1

This will be the first post of my 6 week challenge. I'm not counting the last one because that was just an introductory type thing. 

Last night I had a pretty horrible dream. I have nightmares a lot but only sometimes do I have one so bad that it causes me to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of my screaming and then lie awake in my bed for several minutes trying to think of happy thoughts and trying not to fall back asleep in fear of returning to the same dream. Last night was one of those rare occasion horrific wake up ones. Here it is: 

I'm sitting in a hotel foyer and my aunty rushes over to me from, a panicked look on her face. She tells me that my sister has caught a serious infectious disease and anyone who wants to see her again will have to get a special injection designed especially for her case so that her loved ones won't catch what she has. 

I have a bad phobia of needles, I haven't met anyone who's as scared of them as I am, but I swallowed my fear without a millisecond of thought, or a single word, stood up and followed my aunt into a doctor's office. I had no reason to trust my aunty knew what she was doing because she isn't a nurse or doctor or anything like that but without any hesitation I pulled up my sleeve and didn't wince or cry or show any fear at all because I knew that I had to do this for my sister. 

After my aunty had given me the needle she said, 

"It seems that I got it wrong. Your sister isn't the one with the disease. It's you." 

I was just relieved to hear she was fine. My aunty went on to say, 

"This means that you're going to have to go into isolation and anyone who wants to see you will have to get the injection."

My first thought was: injections are my biggest fear, all the people I love and care about will surely go through what I just went through so I don't have to be alone with this disease. 

Some weird dream time passed and now me and my aunty are back in the hotel foyer and she says,

"No one has taken the injection," 

and so I asked, "what about my parents? What about my boyfriend?" 

and she said, "it was too hard for them. They couldn't go through with it." 

Then my body started to shake and I couldn't breathe. Next thing I knew I was by myself sitting on the white tiled floor of a small bathroom. The white walls, bath, sink and floor where all splattered with bright red blood. I knew the blood was mine but I wasn't bleeding and I didn't know how it got there. There were Wolverine like claws coming out of my knuckles, it scared me to think that a part of me was made of something so sharp and cold. 

I couldn't feel any physical pain from the "disease" but the hurt of knowing that I wasn't worth the effort to the people I thought had loved me of having to endure one injection was destroying me worse than any disease could. And then all of a sudden I realised that it was knowing no one cared enough to be here for me that WAS the disease, it was draining the life from me. So I started to scream over and over as loud as I could, hoping someone would hear, but the smell of my blood was starting to make me feel weak and I knew no one would come save me, I said "why wasn't I worth it?" and then I woke up. 

Next time I promise to write something happy and upbeat, maybe it'll even be funny! 

Luna.