Four Number Ones

By churroboy

The night is slowly undressing her blue dress, and changing into her black night gown sprinkled with glowing stars. Today is slowly becoming tomorrow and the world spinning on its axis draws the lines of change and time in people’s lives all over the globe; Everyone’s lives, including his.

There is this boy in a somewhat messy room that is thinking. He is breathing regularly, his sight fixed on the numbers at the bottom of his computer screen. It’s 11:09 PM and he is tired; tired of school, tired of his roommate laughing out loud at his stupid nerdy websites, tired of doing nothing, tired of wasting his life in front of his computer, tired of being tired but most importantly, he was tired of feeling nothing. He considers himself a dead person; He told himself he had nothing really to look forward to, for nothing good seems to have been lately knocking on his door of happiness. He eats, procrastinates, sleeps and daydreams. Oh yes, daydreaming is what kept him from realizing that life wasn’t going on quite as serene as he wanted it to. Dreams always pushed him over 12:00 O’ clock onto the next day. He has forgotten the warmth of friendship and the taste of adventure, long has it been since he smiled from the bottom of his heart. He has locked his heart in a little treasure chest and buried it deep under his pillow, deep enough so he could forget about it, but easily put it back in when he went to bed.

Despite his current beliefs, he knew that there was something deep down that pushed him forward. Or maybe it pushed him backwards and downward. Who knows? He believed it pushed him on, and that “it” was actually his dreams. He had dreams to remember, dreams to transform into realities- Conscious time frames that actually could be enjoyed without being woken up. But above all, he had one dream that he told himself he could never ever forget about.

He was still staring at the bottom of his computer when suddenly click! The time became 11:11 and he immediately proceeded to close his eyes tightly. He opened his eyes again and the room was gone. There he was, standing at the bottom of a grassy hill; the ocean behind him, the breeze caressing the back of his neck and playing with his messy brown hair; the sun seemed to have a smile on. He is where he wanted to be. At the top of the hill he sees a yellow house, surrounded by a bright-white picket fence, blue shutters and a big blue door. The house is not too big and not too small- it’s perfect. He smiles to himself and begins walking up towards the house, with a hopeful heart. As he walks up the house he notices that there is a big red rocket-ship in the backyard of the house. The sight of the rocket makes him laugh out loud and stretches the smile already on his face, he is almost there. He swings open the white picket fence and starts walking towards the big blue door, but as soon as he puts his foot on the emerald front yard full of plastic flamingos, he hears a bark. He turns around to face the direction of the bark, with a smile bigger than the one he had been wearing, and he crouches down to hug him- his dream dog. He’s happily playing with his weiner dog but he had to check if it was indeed him, so he checked his collar and there it was, the name he had been expecting: Beaner. He is just how he imagined it: slightly chubby, retarded looking, and seemed extremely loyal. But this boy knew he had something else to do, he had to see her; she had to be in that house, she was part of that dream, this dream. So he began walking towards the blue door, stepped on the porch and faced the door. His heart was racing with chaotic excitement. He grabbed the doorknob and closed his eyes once again. As he began to blindly turn the doorknob he felt everything fading away he felt everything becoming lifeless. He opened his eyes and realized he was in his messy room again, alone. It was 11:12.

Rather than feeling devastated he still had a smile on his face. Maybe the smile was hiding his high degree of disappointment with reality or maybe he was actually truly happy. All he knew is that his dreams came alive during that magical minute he liked to place his hopes upon. He enjoyed having one minute in the day, in which he could escape his average life and transport himself to the one he wanted to be part of. And so he went to bed, he took off his shirt, he removed the pillow and reached down into the bottomless pit in which the little treasure chest was in. He reached for his heart, put it back in and with a bittersweet grin he whispered to himself: “we’re getting closer”.

Four Number Ones

Created: May 23, 2010


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Four Number Ones
Four Number Ones By churroboy