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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Survival / Healing / Renewal
- Published: 12/15/2012
David Dreaming
Written by Bryden Li and edited by David Jeon
On a cold, dark October night, a small boy rested upon his little ebony throne. The night was young and the stinging cold air crept itself into the empty crevices of the walls and rested onto the small boy’s cheek. His cheek was warm, soft, and unscathed. His parents, tucked away in their warm, cozy room in what seemed like miles away from his own. As he struggled to find his sleeping position, he shivered at the piercing cold that sent shivers into his body. As he tugged away at the unsatisfying blanket, he gradually dozed into his own kingdom, where he could do anything and have anything he wanted. The foyer of the palace was filled with precarious toys of all kinds. There were action figures that were just the ones he wanted, plastic robots that could walk around, toys that had to be built and yellow thread that waited to be played with. Though the large foyer would appear to be everything that he wanted, but deep down, the young boy didn’t really care about those. There was always a little door that appeared in the corner of the massive room. This time, he seemed to gravitate slowly towards it, hesitant at first, but his slow and inconstant steps soon became faster and faster, to which the point it was full on sprinting, but no matter how much he ran, he never seemed to get any closer to the door. As he ran, little tears dripped down his round cheek. Secretly, he knew what was in the room, the one thing he wanted most in his life. His one want, and no others could come anywhere close to it. He fell down and sighed, of course he didn’t feel any pain as it is in his dream, but he could feel something: a feeling of helplessness, weakness, sadness. He slammed his little fists onto the plush ground and he whimpered. Even in his own massive palace, he could not understand why he could never get what he truly wanted. As his eyes filled with salty tears, he stood up and walked back to his toys. As he walked back to his meaningless toys, he awoke from his palace. The sun was yet to come, but he could not go back to his resting place, so he stood up and walked out of his room. He silently walked from his little room towards the dining area, in which he had some left over potato salad in the refrigerator. Once he had finished, he crept back to his room to find himself warm and cozy and back to his faraway kingdom. As he stepped back into his own world, he felt a sense of courage. He then walked back into the far end of the foyer and found his secret little room. He ran as fast as he humanly could, and as every step he took, he felt like the door was actually getting closer to him. He then walked right up in front of the door and he sighed. He was scared to open the door, but he felt like he had to. He opened the door as slowly as he could, and then as he looked inside, he felt a sense of warmth and security. He also felt a feeling he couldn't exactly place his finger on, a feeling he had once heard of before. A feeling that he could only be defined as, love. He saw his parents with open arms, and their acceptance of him. He had never felt such grace in his life, yet he knew deep down, it was only a dream, fiction, false. He tried to forget, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt in pain. He froze like a corpse. He suddenly jerked his head up, the sun was up, but the sky was a cold shade of grey. He put his clothes on and brushed his teeth, packed up his belongings and left everything else and their memories behind.
The Dream(David Jeon)
David Dreaming
Written by Bryden Li and edited by David Jeon
On a cold, dark October night, a small boy rested upon his little ebony throne. The night was young and the stinging cold air crept itself into the empty crevices of the walls and rested onto the small boy’s cheek. His cheek was warm, soft, and unscathed. His parents, tucked away in their warm, cozy room in what seemed like miles away from his own. As he struggled to find his sleeping position, he shivered at the piercing cold that sent shivers into his body. As he tugged away at the unsatisfying blanket, he gradually dozed into his own kingdom, where he could do anything and have anything he wanted. The foyer of the palace was filled with precarious toys of all kinds. There were action figures that were just the ones he wanted, plastic robots that could walk around, toys that had to be built and yellow thread that waited to be played with. Though the large foyer would appear to be everything that he wanted, but deep down, the young boy didn’t really care about those. There was always a little door that appeared in the corner of the massive room. This time, he seemed to gravitate slowly towards it, hesitant at first, but his slow and inconstant steps soon became faster and faster, to which the point it was full on sprinting, but no matter how much he ran, he never seemed to get any closer to the door. As he ran, little tears dripped down his round cheek. Secretly, he knew what was in the room, the one thing he wanted most in his life. His one want, and no others could come anywhere close to it. He fell down and sighed, of course he didn’t feel any pain as it is in his dream, but he could feel something: a feeling of helplessness, weakness, sadness. He slammed his little fists onto the plush ground and he whimpered. Even in his own massive palace, he could not understand why he could never get what he truly wanted. As his eyes filled with salty tears, he stood up and walked back to his toys. As he walked back to his meaningless toys, he awoke from his palace. The sun was yet to come, but he could not go back to his resting place, so he stood up and walked out of his room. He silently walked from his little room towards the dining area, in which he had some left over potato salad in the refrigerator. Once he had finished, he crept back to his room to find himself warm and cozy and back to his faraway kingdom. As he stepped back into his own world, he felt a sense of courage. He then walked back into the far end of the foyer and found his secret little room. He ran as fast as he humanly could, and as every step he took, he felt like the door was actually getting closer to him. He then walked right up in front of the door and he sighed. He was scared to open the door, but he felt like he had to. He opened the door as slowly as he could, and then as he looked inside, he felt a sense of warmth and security. He also felt a feeling he couldn't exactly place his finger on, a feeling he had once heard of before. A feeling that he could only be defined as, love. He saw his parents with open arms, and their acceptance of him. He had never felt such grace in his life, yet he knew deep down, it was only a dream, fiction, false. He tried to forget, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt in pain. He froze like a corpse. He suddenly jerked his head up, the sun was up, but the sky was a cold shade of grey. He put his clothes on and brushed his teeth, packed up his belongings and left everything else and their memories behind.
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