You are spending the night at a friend’s house with some other people, some who you are close to and some you do not know. You’re staying there becuase tomorrow you’re going on a trip with them.
As you are falling asleep, in a large bed shared by someone else you know, and just drifting off, a mosquito bites your hand. It’s not the kind of time when a mosquito will keep you awake, but just as you are falling into sleep.
Waking up a little later, no one else has gone to bed and they’re being rowdy, you find that the bites have swollen up into blisters filled with pus. They are insanely itchy so you scratch them and find that you can quite easily break them and scratch out all the cottage-cheese-like pus. It doesn’t hurt at all but is very satisfying.
After a while, looking at your hand, you realise that you’ve scratched a small area of the skin away. There is no blood or pain but you can see all the muscles and tendons in the area just behind your thumb and pointer finger.
Someone has a look at you and says “put a bandaid on it”, so you do. It pulls the edges of skin together like a butterfly clip and seems to work fairly well.
Another friend has a look and says with authority, “You should see a doctor. Those were mosquito bites weren’t they? They aren’t normal ones; the mosquito put it’s tiny mosquito feathers in you. Are you feeling woozy?”
Looking around you realise that you are. A skinny girl you don’t know is wearing pink denim hot-pants and, looking like an idiot, gets into a bathtub full of water in the middle of the room.