The Heart Abortion

I had another vivid dream again. These happen almost every night. In this dream I was holding a small heart in my hands. I was cupping it gently, making sure I didn't drop it. It wasn't a Valentines Day kind of heart. It was a real human heart. It felt cold and dead in my hands, yet it was beating. It was a very faint beat, though. I began resuscitating the heart to help it beat. The beats became stronger and the heart started warming up. It was now beating strong and steady. I didn't want to disturb the rhythmic beat in my hands. My dad was in my dream, as usual, but he didn't do much. He was just present. I saw the expression on his face: anger. He started yelling at me, but no words came out. All I wanted to do was protect the heart. I started running with it safely cupped in my palms. The beating slowed down. It was dying. I looked at my hands and the heart was gone. Instead, an empty placenta sac laid in its place. I still felt very protective of it, just as I was with the small heart. Once again my dad showed up. This time he grabbed my arm. The sac fell from my hands and hit the concrete. I was devastated. All that was left was the liquid puddled on the ground. It was like a water balloon that was thrown on the ground and had burst. I tried gathering the liquid mess but it soon washed itself away. I just knelt there with a blank expression on my face. I had nothing now. My dad walked up to me and gestured for me to get up. I was silent the whole time as we began walking toward a building. I was given another cold heart; this time by my dad. He placed it in my hands, but I noticed that the heart was different than the first. It did not beat, not even a faint beat was present. I just stood there in my dream, gently cupping the cold, lifeless heart.