4th July

I had a dream.

I blinked and tried to process what I was seeing. In front of me was what I assumed to be a sandpit, a small one. It had small hills in it, and deep trenches, even empty rivers that lined the sandpit like a map. It was not too big, the sandpit was a few metres long and wide at most. I was but a few metres away too, I could see a thin layer of sand at my feet. To the right, I looked at the small slide. It was pretty small, and colourful too. The full height of it was probably only slightly taller than me. The slide was shaped like an elephant, the slide itself being the trunk of the cartoonish elephant.

Not too far away from the elephant slide, was a monkey bar set. The monkey bars were supposed to be painted bright orange, but the paint had fallen off. It was badly maintained, and some of the bars looked like they were on the verge of falling by off. I looked above and around me. I was sitting on a swing set myself, I was holding the two chains of the swing on either side of me. But I did not swing, only sitting there.

I looked at the ground in front of me, my shadow was long, seemingly having an orange hue. I felt the sunlight against my back and the back of my neck. My hair rustled as a gentle breeze blew by. Where was I? I mean, it was obvious that I was at a children's playground, but where exactly was I?

I looked around, everything seemed so unfamiliar to me here. A slide I was never allowed to slide down ever since young, a monkey bar set I never had the strength to play with, and a swing I never dared to attempt.

Being sick most of the time, my elementary school and middle school Teachers had never bothered even asking whether I wanted to play. I would sit at the sidelines, watching with jealousy as my classmates all ran around to have fun. I guess it was for my benefit, but it still angered me that others were allowed to do those things, just because they were born healthy. I could remember, they made fun of me, sure they did, we were kids back then. They would look at me from the playground and stick their tongue out at me, mock me for being unfit and sick. I disliked those kids, but thankfully, I never have to see them ever again.

I kicked myself off the ground. I swung only slightly, and hesitantly. I looked around, the sunset pressing against my back. What a pleasant and calming sight. I looked into the sky, the clouds drawing closer to the sun, having been dyed orange by the sunset. Birds flew over me, in their signature triangle formation. I saw as they could freely glide through the sky, fly to their heart's desire.

I envy them.

Stuck in a sick and weak body, I could never go wherever I wanted. The doctor even said it was lucky if I could even reach the age of sixteen. He had his doubts, but the ways things are going, I was feeling fine. Besides, it was my second year of high school, I was basically sixteen at this point.

I paused to think, huh, when exactly was my birthday again?

I looked to my right, at the empty swing there. There were two swings in the swing set, and I occupied one, the remaining one being to my right. I stared at the empty seat, it seemed slightly lower than mine, the chains looked rusted. I looked at my own swing, the chains also rusting.

Someone sat down. As if appearing just out of my sight, she slipped both legs through from the back and sat down on the swing. She saw me, smiling and dipping her head as a greeting.

I did the same.

She looked out, swinging on the swing. She seemed so carefree as she did so, her blonde hair flying wildly, but she seemed to not mind. I did not do as she did. The girl leaned back dangerously, but managed to hold onto the chain, her body flying up pretty high in the air before falling. I could see her laughing expression, she was laughing loudly, but I could not hear her. She seemed to be having so much fun, like a child. The bliss of childhood, she was once again going through what it meant to be a child. A feeling I never once experienced for myself.

I noticed. She was having fun, and her mood seemed to be affecting me too, I felt the urge to swing on the swing myself, but held myself back from doing so. I only watched as she laughed, playing on the swing with the same recklessness as a child. Worried for her, I stood, and just when I did, she seemingly let go of the swing. Whether it was by accident or on purpose, none of it mattered. I took a few steps forward, arms extended as I looked up.

In the air, she did not flail, instead, she seemed to be falling with such grace, I would have mistaken her for an Angel who fell from Heaven. I reached out, wanting to at least soften her fall. She looked down, her eyes meeting mine while she fell. She smiled as if already knowing I was there to save her. Her blue eyes sparkled with such childishness, I wondered, how could she be like that?

She seemed to fall slowly, or was it just me? I felt her body come in contact with my hand. And I looked at her face, which was at my chest level. She felt unbelievably light, so light that even someone as weak as me had no difficulty. I was carrying her like one of those knights in fairytales holding the princess. She had a smile on her face as she wrapped her hands behind my neck. The sunlight was behind me, casting a shadow over her. She looked at me with those blue eyes of hers.

'Thank you.'

I could not hear her, but the sincerity I felt was undeniable. She seemed so beautiful, what was I doing holding her for that long? I should have immediately let her get on her feet, but she seemed undisturbed by me holding her. In fact, she seemed reluctant to have me let go of her.

A bang.

Startled, I jumped slightly, looking in front of me, where the sound came from. The girl laughed as she saw my reaction. In the distance, against the orange backdrop, were a few wisps of red, orange and yellow. Bright colours, what were they?

We both looked into the distance as more of them appeared, each one followed by a bang. I think a recognised those things. If I was right, they were fireworks. I had read up on them, and apparently they were to only be set off during special occasions. What was the occasion?

I looked at the girl, hoping I could get some sort of clue. However, all those concerns were washed away as I saw her expression. She looked at the fireworks that still continued to go off with such awe, like a child having witnessed it for the first time in her life. Similarly, I had never seen fireworks in person before, only through a screen or on paper. She seemed genuinely intrigued that I had no words to describe her.

Looking back at the fireworks, I looked at the colours that appeared with intensity just to die out in the sky. It was oddly silent for how loud the fireworks were. The silence created by the lack of conversation, the only sound hanging in the air being the bang of the fireworks.

Maybe spending time like this wasn't that bad. With someone, just enjoying and appreciating something beautiful.

'It's beautiful.'

I couldn't agree more, it was indeed beautiful. I wonder, now that I was somewhat healthy, would I be able to see all of this in person? Would I be able to find out the beautiful things in the world? Or would I continue to drown in the dull and ugly world of sickness?

'Let's light a few next time.'

We could light fireworks ourselves? Was it not dangerous? Did we need permission for such things? I stopped that thought. What was I thinking, even if I had the chance to have a girl like her hang out with me, it was most likely only out of kindness from the girl.

'On your birthday.'

I froze. At the mention of my birthday, when was my birthday anyways? I could vaguely remember having eaten something resembling a cake in the hospital. My parents had brought it over and sang a song I could barely remember. When was it? After spending so much time in the hospital, I had lost track of time, what day was it?

'Thirty-First July, right?'

I paused. She was right, my birthday was indeed the Thirty-First of July. It was when I would eventually turn sixteen.

My eyes flew open.

The familiar ring of my alarm clock filled the room. I clicked the trigger to shut it up, slightly annoyed by it.

I stared at the ceiling of my room. Right, it was a dream, wasn't it? Such a thing wouldn't happen in real life, would it? I started thinking back, had what I saw actually happened? Was what I saw reality or fiction? It felt quite real, the experience felt real, I touched, I felt and I saw. But thinking about it, it was most likely just another dream. Even as I laid there, contemplating the reality of the world, the memory of the dream was already fading. I vaguely remember a girl, but her face was already leaving my memory. I sat up. I never seem to be able to remember my dreams.

I got off the bed, walking through the dimly lit room, filled with silver moonlight. I did not flick my switch on after what happened yesterday morning. Instead, I opened the door and walked out into the living room. There, I turned the lights on.

I stood there, blinking a few times as my eyes adjusted to the brightness. I looked at the ground, my vision slightly tipsy as I tried to see my own feet. There, walking onto my toes, was a familiar figure. The family cat, Meilyn, had come out to play.

I squatted and rubbed her back, which she proceeded to purr in response. I looked at the cat, she seemed so carefree, she could do anything she wanted, really. Unlike me.

I stood straight up. Startled, she backed off and ran off to her usual spot under the sofa. I looked at the sofa, not a single sign of the cat remained. I sighed and went to the bathroom to do my business. At some point, I was standing before the mirror, brushing my teeth and looking at myself. There seemed to be bags under my eyes, which was weird since I was sure I got plenty of sleep. I rubbed my eyes after I was done, walking out to the living room.

"Did you get enough sleep last night?" My mother asked from behind the sofa. "You look awfully tired."

"I did." I replied.

"I heard from your father that you wanted to visit a friend's house on Monday." She continued.

"Yes…"

She looked at the clock above the television while saying, "I'm not completely against it, but only if you're feeling well that day."

"Okay."

She looked at me, then pointed at the dining table. "Didn't have much time today, couldn't make much, but breakfast is ready."

"Thank you." I thanked her, looking at the plate on the dining table.

She nodded and walked to the door. She started to put her shoes on while she said, "If you ever feel sick, make sure to call us."

"I will." I promised.

I sat down at the seat and pulled the plate closer to me. I heard my mother say, "I'll be going off now."

"Have a safe day." I told her as she walked off.

I stared at the plate. There was a slice of buttered toast. I do not recall having this sort of food before, the hospital would always go against oily foods. I picked it up with my middle finger and thumb, pinching opposite sides of the square bread with my fingers. The texture was hard, yet I felt that it would crumble if I applied more pressure to it. The toast smelt amazing, the scent of butter filling my nostrils. I brought a corner of the toast up to my mouth and bit into it, taking off a chunk as I slowly chewed. The bread reminded me of the PB&J sandwich, but I did not feel the urge to hurl this time.

I chewed slowly and eventually swallowed the toast. I was about to take another bite when my father left his room, once again in his messy work attire. He saw me and asked, "Will that be enough?"

"Yes." I replied. "I'm not a big eater anyway."

He nodded and went to the kitchen. When I was halfway done, he sat across from me, the house was filled with the fragrant scent of coffee. My father took a sip as I ate.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, huh?" He said.

"It is?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but your mother and I still need to go to work, so you'll be alone at home."

"I see."

"If you ever feel sick, even slightly, make sure you call us, okay?"

"I know."

"I'll call you every hour, if you don't pick up, I'm taking it that you're sick, okay?"

"Understood."

He nodded and took another sip of the coffee. I finished my toast and brought the plate to the kitchen sink, washing the plate as quickly as I could before going back to my room. On the way, while passing by my father, I told him, "The ceiling light of my room is broken."

"Is that so?" He asked. "Did it not work fine last night?"

"It did?"

I tried to flick the switch on, but nothing happened. I shrugged and said, "It's broken."

"Then what light did you use yesterday?"

I tried to think about it, but could not come up with an answer. Was my ceiling light on last night? That was weird. I looked around, it was most likely the lamp, the lamp I had on my table. I often used it when drawing, but I was pretty sure I used it last night.

"The lamp, I think." I replied, grabbing my uniform and changing into it.

"I'll have it fixed on Sunday."

I was at the door, putting on my shoes. I failed to tie my right shoelace by accident, messing it up and accidentally creating a dead knot. I untied it and restarted before standing, bag slung over my shoulders. I walked off, saying, "I'll be going off now."

"Have a nice day." My father said to me.

He was at the door, seeing me off. I walked along the hallway of the apartment before making a turn, out of his sight.

The bus ride to school was uneventful.

In class, I sat there once again, feeling ostracised. However, unlike the previous days, someone walked up to me willingly, that person being Red. He stood in front of me once again, ready to talk. I saw as he started speaking, but could not quite catch his exact words.

Eventually, he asked, "So will you be able to come next Monday?"

"Um…" I replied, scratching the back of my head. "I think I should be able to."

"Great!" He cheered.

Despite how loud we were being, no one seemed to be looking in our direction. Whether they were ignoring us or just being too busy with their own activities, it did not matter. My classmates' faces were all but blur to me.

Red stood there, his red hair standing out to an insane extent. He had a large smile on his face. Was there a reason for the red hair and eyes? Was it his favourite colour? Or was there another significance in the colour red?

"About your hair…" I tried to ask.

The bell had rung halfway through me speaking. Red turned to look at the clock, telling me, "Let's pick this up during lunch break, meet you later."

He did not seem to have heard my question, or was he just ignoring the question? Thinking about it, what was his name anyway? To me, he was Red, and that was about it. Was he a friend? Even I was unsure about it.

"Okay." I said as he walked off, disappearing in the crowd of faceless students.

I stared at my table. What was I doing anyways? The only reason I could even talk to someone was that Red continuously attempted to speak to me, otherwise, I would just be another loner. I barely spoke, and the only reason the conversation could continue was that Red was talkative. I was still thinking, what was his reason for speaking to me, I doubted there was no reason behind it. Or I'm just being paranoid again.

During the lunch break, he pulled a chair over and sat across from me. He seemed to be in a good mood, at least, I think he was. He started talking about a show he had been watching recently, and a show that he had gotten into recently. Me being me, could not understand anything that he was saying. The concept of these shows was foreign to me. Could I just watch them on the television? But how do I plug in a television? And how do I turn it on?

"About your hair…" I started to ask, timid.

Red stopped talking when I did, listening to what I had to say. He looked at me with a focus that made me uneasy. His attitude towards me and how he was so excited about inviting me to his house unnerved me.

"What about my hair?" He asked.

His gaze pierced through me, I started to tremble slightly, my right leg shaking uncontrollably. It was an awkward topic to bring up, and I was unsure if I could continue it.

"Nevermind." I whispered.

He leaned closer to me, his face close to mine, his crimson red eyes looking directly into my black eyes. He asked, "Seriously, what is it?"

I leaned back. "Just to confirm… you don't swing that way, do you?"

He laughed, loud and heartily. He waved his hand in front of him, as if fanning away a fly. "No, no. I very much like girls."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

It struck me at how normal that conversation had been. I had asked a full question without turning back, he actually replied to me. I looked at him, maybe it was time for me to change, friends weren't too bad after all.

School ended without much of a change.

The bus ride home was uneventful.

Thinking back, I do not think I noticed the girl to my left much at all. Today, she felt almost nonexistent to me, I was focused so much on Red's behaviour that everyone else seemed to not exist. It was odd, when we spoke, it was like no one else was around. Was that what it was like to have friends? To have fun just speaking to someone, to the point where the only thing to exist is me and the other person. I admit, the feeling wasn't too bad, maybe having a friend wouldn't be too bad after all, even if I have to say goodbye if I ever fall severely sick again.

At home, I sat on the sofa, having just finished showering. I stared at the black screen of the television, thinking things through. Huh, maybe I could try to turn it on. I looked around the coffee table that was placed between the sofa and the television. There was a thin and long black remote with several buttons I could push. I held it in my hand, looking through the options I had to click. On the remote, there was a big red button at the extreme side, facing the television. I reached my thumb out and pressed the button.

Nothing happened, so I tried clicking it a few more times. I tried to click every other button too, but there was no change in the screen. I stood up, placing the remote on the table again, walking up to the television. Was it broken?

I looked to the left of the television, where there was a cluster of wires connected to a socket. I saw it, the switch to the socket having been flicked off. I flicked it on and looked as the dark screen turned into a slightly bright dark screen. I clicked the red button once again, and it actually worked. I stared at the remote, then at the television. How do people do that? To make something perform an action although it wasn't properly connected.

I shrugged and looked at the television. There was a documentary about a unique type of fish in the sea. I felt bad for the fish, what had it done to deserve to die from plastic waste?

I shrugged, but why would I not feel bad for any of the animals or plants I consume then?

My parents returned home, seeing as I watched a new television programme about dinosaurs.

We had another takeout dinner, this time was a convenience store-bought rice dish that was not bad. The rice was nice, the meat tasted like meat.

After finishing my food, I proceeded to clean up after myself before entering my room. I flicked the switch on, forgetting that the light was broken. I sighed and turned the lamp on my desk on, looking at the sketchbook as well as I could with only a lamp. What should I draw today? I thought about it, I pulled my phone out. On the news, they were covering these massive firework shows and experiences. I looked at the fireworks, they sure looked beautiful, it is unfortunate the rules for the country did not allow for such things.

Night came, and I crawled onto my bed after turning the lights off. I pulled the blanket over myself and closed my eyes. The day seemed short, actually, the days were quite short. What did I even do today? I only remembered talking to Red, and that was about it.

Beep… Beep... Beep…

That sound again. I did not mind it in the slightest, in fact, I welcomed it with open arms. It was kind of a sign that I was alive, to hear your own heartbeat is to be alive.

With that, goodnight.

Beep… Beep… Beep.