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For the past two nights, I have had the most vivid and bizarre dreams I've ever had. In the both of them, I was there but not actually me. In the first one, there was some horrible virus outbreak and I was on the team of scientists working to try and cure it. There was a family who was suspected of having the virus and we needed to quarantine them and run tests, but they wouldn't let us, so we got a search warrant (to search for the virus I guess?) and then it became this huge case in the courts of privacy and personal rights over the rights of the whole of society. I woke up before anything was solved of course.
Then last night it started with me running into the streets to try and distract this driver from hitting my dog, taunting him to hit me instead. When he pulled over, it looked like a drugged out Gerard Butler in the passenger seat and someone else driving, who was apparently my husband (but not Ryan). They came into the house where there were a ton of people I knew (I don't know why we were all gathered there, but it was after all, a dream) and we became hostages. They had guns and grenades and things and everyone was laying on their stomachs, hands on their heads. Then I heard a little girl scream and I jumped up and ran over and it was apparently my daughter and she didn't want her dad touching her, even though he was just telling her to have a good day as she left the house. I started begging him not to do what he was doing, but he said he was already in too deep and there was some sort of mafia out to get him and he had to do it. I told him I still loved him but I didn't know why and then they started shooting and blowing things up. While I was lying on my stomach, he came over and pulled my headband down and shot me in the head, but only enough to graze my skin, not enough to kill me, but he had to make it look to the others like he'd shot me dead. Then they all left and there were people dead and dying, bleeding and screaming. I stood up and with the other survivors tried to figure out what to do. There was blood streaming down my face.... and then I woke up, crying, and I could still feel the bullet wound on my head.