Zidaiku's Dreams

I woke up wanting to write this morning, so I did. And I'm glad decided to listen to myself. Here's what I came up with. Both of these scenes are dreams that my main character, Zidaiku, has and writes down in a journal. I like this idea because the first-person perspective makes it feel more present, I think. Throughout the story, there will be more. The first one is another update of this scene from my book. The second is a scene from his past. In both scenes, there are a few things that are not quite true, but this is often how memories and dreams go. For example, the real Melina is sort of represented by vanilla. She constantly smells like it, she has light hair, and her personality is very sweet. But as you'll see, this other girl is represented by strawberry and has a more "tangy" personality. (For those in the know, I just had a thought about changing this girl's name, since it doesn't really work if she's going to be more strawberry-like. What do you think?)

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There was sun, there were trees, and there was Dad.

He stood on the other side of a field. Leaves were making applause in the breeze. There was a striped ball in his hand and he looked like a professional. His skin was tan and shining in the sun. The wind tossed his hair and his clothes, and he had his eyes closed, focusing.

He reached back and threw the ball. It sped toward me, floating higher as it spun, but I jumped for it. When I caught it, he clapped along with the trees. “Nice catch, son!” he said. “Toss it back!”

So I did.

My throw also went too high. He dove for it and caught it in midair, but he landed on the picnic blanket, inches away from the rest of my family. My mom and my little sister screamed and laughed. The girl put her hand to his face and said, “You’re so silly, Daddy!”

My mom just smiled. It was white and genuine.

Dad picked up my sister and spun her around. Mom told him to be careful with her.

“Don’t worry, Mommy!” the girl said between giggles. “Daddy’s strong!”

My dad pulled her in for a tight squeeze. “That’s right! I’ll never let anything happen to you guys.”

I watched from far away.

There was also another boy. This one was only a toddler. He climbed onto his mother’s lap and said in broken English, “I hungry.”

Mom asked if it was time to get out the food. The others agreed. Dad tossed me the car keys and told me to look in the back.

I found the basket. There were peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in plastic bags. One of them had my name written on it, and I knew it had extra peanut butter, just for me.

When I looked up, everyone was lying on the ground.

Not moving.

I dropped the basket.

I jumped onto the grass. It died around my feet, turning crunchy and yellow.

When I passed a tree, the bark flaked and the leaves became sharp and fell toward me.

I got to them. Everyone was facedown. I knelt by my dad and touched his head. It was wet. Sticky blood clung to my fingers when I pulled them away.

I couldn’t breathe. “Dad!” I yelled. “Dad, get up! Wake up!”

Someone approached me. He said, “Your father is dead.”

I stood up. It was a boy with my face. He had dark hair and clothes. “But how?” I asked him. “I was only gone for a few seconds…”

Then I noticed the blood covering his arms.

“You want this life, but you can’t have it,” the boy said. “Your family is dead.”

“You did this!” I said. “Who are you? And why do you look like me?”

He said nothing.

“Answer me!”

I tackled him, but I passed through his body and fell toward the dead grass.

I fell for a long time.

Thunder filled my head.

Things got black.

Then I thought I heard my sister’s voice, telling me to get up for work.

But it was only Angel.

---

I was at a supermarket. Laughing.

There were others with me. Three others. One muscular boy had short brown hair, another wore a cowboy hat and boots, and a girl was by my side.

I couldn’t turn my head to see who she was.

The boy with short hair was making a sex joke about the difference between cucumbers and pickles. He had a jar of pickles in his hand to demonstrate.

It must have been funny.

We laughed.

The girl at my side put her arm around my waist. I smelled strawberries.

The boy dropped the jar. It didn’t break, but it started rolling down the aisle. He ran for it, but just before he reached down to grab it, he accidentally kicked it. It slid past the end of the aisle and rolled out of sight. Everyone laughed harder and the boy with the cowboy hat went to help his friend.

When they were out of sight, the girl turned me toward her. I could see now that it was Melina. She was smiling and she had a certain look in her eyes. It was a look that made me want her. Even at the supermarket. Even with our friends chasing after pickles in the next aisle.

She wrapped both arms around my waist. “I bet you’re a cucumber.”

Our faces leaned in and our lips came together. Hers were warm, wet, and tangy.

We heard our friends continue to struggle with their pickles.

I opened my eyes for a moment and noticed that her hair was more strawberry-colored than I remembered.