daydream believer (standard:drama, 2091 words)
Author: Sara Baugh	Added: Apr 22 2001	Views/Reads: 3263/2245	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
About your typical jaded teenager and her, verging on the worrying, obsession in the beauty of her dreams.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

brainless underachievers with no aspiration. If only they knew. I hate 
my job. I hate its smell. I hate its aura. I hate the way a filthy rich 
fat cat can complain about the quality of his mashed potato. I hate the 
deep fried unidentifiable meals. I hate the tips. I hate the smoke and 
most of all I hate my boss. 

I’m at work for precisely two minutes before I see him approach with
thunderous, enraged steps to greet me with his usual heedless drivel 
about cutlery and ketchup. I momentarily close my eyes and scream to 
myself; I scream so much my brain hurts and cries for escape. I drag 
myself back to reality, acknowledge his crap, inhale a gasp of 
sweat-polluted air, and head for the kitchen, nauseous at the sight of 
his strategically positioned comb-over and proportionally absurd beer 
belly. 

A familiar gust of elation comes over me as I see who’s working. A
responsive face and someone I can take an interest in without feeling 
fictitious. His name is  ‘Ad’ and he intrigues me. We talk of anything 
but the obvious, of sex, of drugs, of poetry and politics; we talk 
until it aches. His flickering blue eyes tell me more of his disarray 
than his witty anecdotes ever could. He seems to sweep away the pain of 
my solitude and engross me.  When I finally escape home I coil up in my 
bed and imagine getting lost inside his memories, his life, his being. 
I feel absorbed and life suddenly seems good. I start to cry. 

Love, never had it. Felt it, craved it, but never had the devotion of
another.  I lie, maybe my family, maybe a best friend or a pet but 
never a true love, never the passion or the butterflies, never the 
surge of ecstasy felt through a kiss or a worried first touch. Each 
boyfriend has felt cold and distanced from me- never found someone with 
who I have been willing to share my real self, the part of me that 
wants embracing and holding. The part of me that’s exactly like you, 
all of you, the loved-up masses. 

He seems nearer tonight. So close I could rest my aching head on his
alluring shoulder. I know I can’t, not yet, but this time It doesn’t 
seem so weird to crave his intimacy, I feel like we will be as one some 
day. That day the brilliant light of this world will detain me here and 
permit me to stay forever. Each visit now seems shorter yet I know 
they’re just as long. 

I fall, weightless and dubious as I collapse down to truth. I wake to
realise that it’s four in the morning, and I’m lying gracelessly 
exposed on the down stairs sofa. A half-empty coffee cup and unfinished 
English essay my only clue to my function here. I crawl to my bedroom 
and wish I could stay there until the other world requests me. 

Dreams- the instinctive exploration of my mind's eye. I love them
perhaps too much. I love them to death.  Tonight I dream of Ad and of 
him and of that world. The three intertwine in a circus of wonder and 
satisfaction; my dream takes me to a place where I can be me, where I 
am safe, and restful and treasured. I’ve seen this before but tonight 
my dream is different. Tonight my dream shows me a way of reaching this 
place and never returning. So simple, why didn’t I think of it earlier? 
I’m so dumb. Dreams don’t lie. This route is seamless, effortless and 
my destiny. 

I stir and flourish in a curiously euphoric mood. Lyrics of a song
comfort and inspire me like timeless poetry. My mind sings along in 
angelic harmony until the CD jolts and wrecks my first contented moment 
in reality for quite some time. 

My English teacher condemns my messy offering and subjects me to a
humiliating 'reality check’. My face-less classmates dumbfound 
me-peeing themselves at my misfortune. The teacher’s tirade triggers me 
to shut down my senses. I try imagining him in my world but know he’d 
never get there.  I begin to question what happened to the inspired 
girl that had wanted this life of reading and reward. I remember. She 
found something else veiled deep inside her thoughts. She left and got 
lost within them, leaving the remnants of my being to fester in a world 
not half as divine. I would soon reach her. Join her and him and 
complete the enigma of self. 

I sit cross-legged on my windowsill clasping a plastic beaker of cheap
red wine in my best hand and a favorite book in the other. The moon is 
full and the street is still. My mind anxious but content the hours 
pass. I observe my neighbors retire to their own private world of 
imaginings as houses shut down for the hours of darkness, one by one, 
until I’m the last one motionless in this torturous reality. 

I effortlessly locate the inviting, sharp razor from the bathroom and
lead it to my resting-place. I slice, cut, and enjoy. The blood is 
sweet and satisfying. I watch this world trickle out of me and smile as 
I feel myself slip away. I hold my eyes shut for the last time. 
Blocking out certainty. 

He’s here. He’s here and he’s calling my name. I look and reach out,
grasping his hand. He touches me. As I join him in the sparkling world 
of nothing I gaze down at my previous self, lifeless and empty below. I 
laugh. No turning back. I pursue my new reality. Everything suddenly 
seems something else. 

The days pass like seconds, I’m here, I’m with him, and I don’t feel the
stabbing anymore.  I sit and watch the frivolities below. An emotional 
finding for my mother makes me realise that I’ve hurt someone. Ouch. As 
the news is broken to Ad he sobs, I hurt. I didn’t know I could hurt in 
this world.  As the fat cat brings flowers to my family and my boss 
sheds a secret tear returning from my interment I realise my stupidity. 
My New World turns sour and no one talks to me. No one messes-up and no 
one loathes me. I watch emotions slip away as I long to feel again. I 
lie back and try to escape but remember that by losing myself within 
them I’ve lost my dreams forever. 

He touches my shoulder and I spin around to see his face for the first
time. I still feel nothing. I stare deep into his eyes and the silence 
stabs me. An unknown nonentity is the reality of my daydream. I scream 
out loud to try and scare him, he runs. I somehow manage to summon up a 
tear that remains from the life I now miss, curl up on nothing and 
fester in shame. 

Nothing disappears and I fall. I’m not frightened but as I fall I feel
more and more restless. I watch the sparkling fairy light flood away 
from me. I grab hold of a little in the palm of my hand to hold with me 
everlastingly, but the tighter I grasp it the more it slips away from 
me, the fear returns. 

I wake to the annoying buzz of my alarm clock. A manic Monday morning
greets me and I jump out of bed, elated to find I’ve escaped from a 
dream world that I thought was real. The radio blasts as I sing out 
loud and kiss my reflection in the mirror that can’t believe its eyes. 
I remember I have to go to school. I feel my shoulders slump but smirk 
at the thought of the day. Nine hours until work. For a moment I lose 
myself in a fantasy of Ad, and me and a united force of deep, adoring 
love. As the CD jumps I break out of my dream world and smile, I stand 
statuesque and arrogant in reality and don’t want to escape any more. I 
wipe the glitter from the palm of my hand and position some on my 
glistening eyelids, a highlight for the windows to a soul that’s still 
lost. 


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