Dream a Little Dream

It's been a while since I had seen him last. Gilbert was always so happy when I knew him. He was a teacher at Gakuen Hetalia. He was one of my favorite teachers. On the first day I met him I challenged him and jumped over my desk and kicked him into a wall. Then he caught me and threw me onto the ground.

From that day on we were friends.

I was always the type to go against authority, I couldn't stand being looked down on. I loved Gilbert like some kind of demented father. My father was never around much, and because of that I constantly was in search of one.

Since I met him he never once was angry with me and not once was I ever a monster in his eyes. No matter what I did or said or dressed like or kicked I was still me. He was so kind and then he'd break tables over other kid's heads. A lot of girls were interested in him, that was curtain, but not me. He was my friend.

At the end of the year I was going to have to move. I told Gilbert with the idea of getting the same reaction I got from everyone else. He stared for a minute, and I smiled for a minute, and then his dark red eyes grew wet and he began to cry. Not like a baby or like a little girl, but like someone who would genuinely miss me as a person. He told me to come back and visit someday or he'd kick my ass.

In my next school I was set apart. I was shunned by the masses and I hid behind the gym at lunchtime. It was just me and a German boy who couldn't speak much English. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. He was an exchange student who didn't like talking, which I was fine with. I never had less to say in my entire life. Just as well we were friends, but he had to return to Germany. We said our goodbyes on his last day and I was alone again.

Then I moved back, but I wouldn't be attending my old school.

I ran into Gilbert a number of times. He was so happy to see me and was so happy to see the kind of person I had become, a very talented liar. I went to my old school one day and saw him, sat in on his class. It was fun.

A month or so had passed since then and I found through an old friend who also got along with him that the school was requesting he quit or be fired. He quit. I didn't hear from him again. He had a wife and daughter. His daughter went to my school, but she never wanted anything to do with me. I was the girl that kicked her father on the first day I met him.

I ran into him one more time, he was going to a movie. For my life I can't remember which one, I wish I did. That was the last time I would ever speak to him and if I had known I'd have wanted to remember every last detail about it.

At some point I had a dream.

I was in his classroom but I was alone. Then he appeared and began to write in chalk, no one was talking. He wrote in plain English but I couldn't read the words. Then he frowned at me and I woke up.

It's been two months since then. It's been two days since I found out he died; three days since he killed himself. My friend told me through facebook. She said that since I got along with him I deserved to know. I didn't know how, I just knew it a day after it happened. One million questions ran through my skull in an instant.

Why did he do it?

Wasn't he happy?

Why did the school fire him?

Why is life so unsatisfying?

What will his family do?

What will his friends do?

What will I do?

I began to cry and scream. I shut out all the light and his in my closet with the door locked. I cried and cried for so long until I fell asleep there.

I dreamed I was crying with my friend who knew him well. We were crying together in the gym of my old school and I couldn't seem to hug her properly. We were crying and screaming. She wore black. There were many people around us in blue. They were all my old friends and classmates. They were smiling and chattering among themselves. Then they stopped, they smiled, and they began to cry. They cried like Gilbert. When I woke I realized they cried for Gilbert.

The next day I stayed in my room, I couldn't eat or cry. I just sat there and looked out my window and wondered what he was doing, what his wife was doing, what his child was doing.

My mother came in and took me out of the house. She tried to speak to me in the car but I couldn't form any real words and when I did there would only be one of them and there would be no life in my voice. I stared out the window.

My teacher is dead. My friend is dead. He cried when I left. No one cried but him. I attacked him on the first day I met him and we became friends and he never thought there was anything wrong with me. He was there for me more than my dad. He was my dad. He killed himself.

The funeral would be Saturday. I told my mom that and she told me "You can't go. Remember, we have a plane to catch."

She wasn't heartless, she was upset for me, but she couldn't change the flight.

I won't be able to see Gilbert off. I won't be able to tell of my short time as part of his life. I won't be able to let him know just how much he meant to me. I won't ever see him again because I have to "catch a flight."

That night I cried again, and screamed again. Then I fell asleep again with a pain in my stomach.

I had the same dream as the night before, only this time my friend's dress was gray.

I woke up the next morning and stayed in bed.

Why did you do it Gilbert?

Why couldn't you talk to anyone?

Why couldn't anyone save you?

Why couldn't I save you?

Why can't we save anyone?