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The Dreamer


“Don’t dream your life, live your dream. And never stop dreaming .If your dreams die, then nothing can carry you on.”


These were the lines that had replayed itself in the 13 year old Aralia Syntyche’s mind, over and over again. She would wish upon a star everyday, knowing exactly how useless it was. Her wish would never be granted. She could dream though, and dreaming was something she was good at. It’s her one redeeming quality. Like for instance, she could dream that she was the secret ruler of the earth, and that she could control everyone and make them like her. Or that she was a genius and knew everything the world could offer her. Or, her favourite dream. The one that pops up all the time. The one that keeps her wishing on stars, candles, and just about everything.


It starts as just an average spring day, sunny with a couple of clouds in the sky, nothing too special. Green grass, pretty flowers, all is good. All is normal. A 6 year old Aralia would be outside playing and laughing, just radiating happiness. There were other ecstatic children in the background, none of them really important to the dream. If the short brunette thought about it, their faces were indescript, because the children weren’t the important part of the dream. The important part, the part that keeps her wishing upon stars was yet to come.


The 6 year old Aralia would giggle and pick a couple of pretty flowers from the ground, before proceeding to spin around like a maniac. She went until she felt dizzy, at which point she promptly fell to the flower, still in hysterics, as if spinning around was the funniest thing ever. To the tiny girl, it probably was. Then again, the tiny hazel-eyed girl hadn’t experienced much sadness in her life yet, so everything was the best, or the funniest, or the prettiest thing. They say light can’t exist without the dark, but at this period of Aralia’s life, everything was light. The closest thing to dark was her mother not letting her have a piece of candy, or her older brother telling her that he was better than her in every way. Back in her favorite dream, she would fall to the ground cracking up, and just lay there, trying to calm her fits of laughter.


At this point, a man with a striking resemblance to her younger self would come lay down on the soft grass right next to her, chuckling to himself. This would be Aralia’s dad, the one person that she looked up to. Though she loved everyone in her family, and all of her friends, her dad was undoubtedly the person she loved the most. Just, there was the feeling when she was around her dad. A feeling of warmth, of love, of care. A feeling of safety. Much like a safety blanket, when her dad was there she felt like nothing bad could happen. She felt like she could rule the world, but why would she want to rule the world, when everything she wanted was right there, in her dad? Aralia just wanted to be happy and to be loved, and being with her dad brought her both of these things. Well, she also wanted candy and infinite free time, but if she was to choose between candy and her dad, her dad definitely comes first.

Once again, going back to the dream. The wind would blow, the sun would shine, brightening the blue sky. Birds chirped and flowers blossomed. Everything was literally perfect. The scenery looked like a painting. Aralia was content with life, even if her little brain could not really understand the word content. The day wasn’t particularly exciting, but it was very pleasant. She would look over at her dad, his eyes closed and his face in a state of bliss. He would open his eyes, grinning at Aralia. Her dad would then check his watch on his left wrist, before hopping up with a kind smile. He held out his hand for 6 year old Aralia, pulling her onto her small feet. Once she stood up and stretched, she jumped up and her dad grabbed her, pulling her up.

And now this is the best part of the dream. Her dad pulls her up into his arms, hugging her tightly, as if protecting her from the rest of the world.


“I love you, Aralia,” he’d say, not letting go as he carries her to their car.


“I love you too, daddy!”


Now, the “I love you’s” were nice, but the most amazing part was just being in her dad’s arms. She was being sheltered, and nothing bad could touch her. Her dad was like a charm to ward off evil.


It was truly a great dream, only it’s so much more than a dream. It’s a memory, and so it’s actually happened before. But as it’s still a dream, Aralia will never experience it again. It’s physically impossible, if this scenario happened again it would literally defy the rules of life. But as it was mentioned earlier, it was a dream and Aralia’s really good at dreaming, the ability to dream being her only redeeming quality. If you’d even count that as a redeeming quality. To be able to hope when all hope is lost, and to be able to find joy in the impossible. Nowadays, that’s called being stupid or naive, so it really isn’t much of a redeeming quality.


The current Aralia is always in shock of how protected she felt then. It was so much better than the current circumstances. It was raining, and each water droplet that fell brought misery through the world, as sad as itself, the crying sky. The sky was darkening, the inky blue color marred with gray clouds of sorrow.


Today she went through the dream several times in her head, like a song on repeat. Maybe today she could go out and talk to people. Maybe today she could smile again. Maybe today would be the day that she opened her heart again.


Of course, on such a dark gloomy day, all of the positive thoughts could be forgotten easily, washed away by the rain. But it won’t always be rainy and miserable. And if after rain comes rainbows, maybe the rain could be bearable as well. Even if the positive thoughts were washed away today, she could always try again tomorrow. And if tomorrow rained again, she could try the day after that.


Or maybe the rain wasn’t even washing away the positive thoughts. If the positive thoughts were there already, then maybe the rain is just washing away the pain from the past, to give you a rainbow to look forward to in the future.


With happy thoughts, Aralia didn’t mind the rain. A little rain never hurt anyone. Instead, she just kept on walking forwards, concentrating on not stepping on any of the flowers that brightened the depressing place on a depressing day. She was walking through the cemetery, looking for her father.


She found him, handing over a bouquet of flowers.


“I love you, daddy.”


She had outgrown her dad’s arms, but that was only so that she could now carry herself. She just had to realize it. She smiles at the stone, before turning around and making a promise to herself.


“I promise to support myself, now that my dad can’t protect me anymore.”


Sometimes, you just have to let the impossible dreams go. Hard-to-reach dreams are good, they give you something to strive for. But impossible dreams can only bring you down. Improbable, not impossible.


She’d outgrown her father, and all anyone knew of her father was, “In loving memory of Daniel Syntyche. 1967-2008. Loving husband, brother, and father. ‘Don’t dream your life, live your dream. And never stop dreaming .If your dreams die, then nothing can carry you on.’”

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