She screamed in the middle of the night.
Stella shot up in her bed in a cold sweat, breathing heavy while placing a hand on her chest. These constant nightmares had again awoken her, leaving her breathless and shuddering. They were memories rather than nightmares. Memories of her father...Her mother's death... The needles, the knives, the children, the cages, the blood...
The female grabbed her head with eyes shut tight. This was one of the worst nightmares she had went through and it was only an hour of sleep.
Slowly she laid back down, putting her forearm to cover her eyes in complete darkness. Her heartbeat and breathing was slowing down. After five minutes she was finally starting to calm down, but she feared that she wouldn't be able to go back sleep.
All she wanted was simple rest. This had happened four nights in a row now. Her tiredness troubled her but she didn't dare tell the others about it, no how much she needed the help.
A nice rest... A nice dream.
Dream.
That was the nickname her mother had gave her. Thinking of her mother always made her feel at peace for some reason.
'Mom! I wanna save the world some day! I want to help everyone one day!'
'Oh? Is that your dream, sweetie?'
'Definitely! Hey, mom, what's your dream?'
'Well, I've got you, your father, a nice house... All my dreams have come true. Stella, you are my dream... And you always will be.'
'Hah! You're so weird mom!'
'I got it from you! My little Dream.'
With that memory she drifted off into sleep and although she awoke two hours later, it was the best sleep she had in a while.