SICKBAY

I wake up in strange building, a sort of hospital.  After using the washroom, I lie back down.
Feel stiff, sick to my stomach, thirsty, tired.
Every day a nurse comes by, talks. Tells me what a brave little girl I was to manage to stay alive.  Am I really?  I feel more dead.
She keeps harping back to the same topic, the dream.  Now I just ain't gonna say, no matter what.  Eventually she shows with another ten-year-old girl, introduces us and leaves.
The girl ain't snoopy, friendly, tells about herself, "see this real bad dream.  War, winter, way up in the mountains, nothing to eat for a week.  Well, you know what I did?"
I nod.
"See" she says kindly, "they were dead anyhow.  But still, it was only a dream.  Your ever get dreams like that?"
"Time to time."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really, too horrible."
"Well then, have a good cry, you'll feel better."
I do and it works.