The Inevitability Of The End Of The World

*It grabs me by my hair and drags me behind the dumpster, gun to my head. My heels are bleeding and I'm covered in bruises. He throws me against the wall
"When and where is the next bombing going to be?" He yells, I shake my head. He hits me across the head with his gun, and I wince.
"I! DON'T! KNOW!" I yell. He kicks me.
"Useless!" He points his gun at my head.*

My breath catches, and a small splotch of blood comes up as I violently cough. Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, otherwise known as chronic bronchitis, or known by me as a pain in the ass. A small string of morning sun streams in through a gap in my curtains.
The door to my room echoes a click before my mum comes rushing in franticly.
"Ohmygodareyouokay!?" Her words conjoin and splurge around when she's stressed, I've become accustomed to this and have learned to understand it. I wake up and cough every morning since I was born, yet she still rushes in every time.
"Just another dream, a little bit more real every time."
"We can get you drained today if you need it, I will cancel plans!" I roll my eyes, stumble to my feet, and waddle over to her, legs lagging more than usual.
"Sit!" She yells. "Do your warm-ups before walking, you know that." Oh, yeah, and Neonatal brainstem dysfunction, basically, my brainstem fails to send signals to parts of the brain and body properly, resulting in me looking like an idiot every time I do anything.
"Whats the point?" I joke. "I should just lie in bed and die." It was supposed to be sarcastic but Mum is sensitive and takes me seriously. Her eyes flood.
"I was joking...just, leave, yeh. I'm too tired for this." I feel bad but she knows me and needs to toughen up. She nods softly and walks out, closing the door behind her. I go to stand again before falling over. I lift myself back up onto my bed with a loud grunt. I flop back and seriously consider lying here forever.
My phone dings, forcing me out of my thoughts.