Happiness
When I was little, I dreamed of having parents who would make cookies with me, who would give me a kiss on the cheek before I left for school, who would tuck me into bed every night.
Eyes squeezed shut and legs tucked in, I burrow further into the wall. For once, my small size does me good; I'm able to to fit under my computer desk. The hands covering my ears are no help in muffling the shouting from downstairs. Things are being thrown and so are words, and it's scaring me.
I suppress a whimper and keep my eyes shut.
When I was little, I dreamed of being rich and having a big mansion, one with bright chandeliers, long dinner tables, and a grand piano in the corner of the room.
I was...rather rich.
My five-year-old mind could figure out that much.
But mom's left us, and so now it's just my dad and I.
The mansion is quiet, the chandeliers aren't so bright, and the piano sits untouched.
When I was little, I dreamed of being a superhero-the ones with cool powers; the ones who saved people; the ones who got all the glory.
My legs feel like cement glued to the floor as I stare down. There's a pool of blood and it's growing by the second. My dad's eyes, blue as the endless sky, are blank, but they manage to withheld some emotion as they stared into my own: Get help.
And the man in the black mask is reaching at me with a knife and soon, my own blood falls from just underneath my eyes as crimson tears.
When I was little, I dreamed of getting good grades and having my parents be proud at me, dreamed of making the honor roll and feeling a sense of accomplishment.
Wammy's House for Gifted Children.
I'm thankful that it's 'House' instead of 'Orphanage' because that it's still a little startling to be now considered an orphan. Because orphans didn't have parents. I still have mine.
Dad's up in heaven and mom's not here right now, but she'll find me as soon as she can. I do good on the tests and manage a 3rd place in Rankings, knowing that if my mom could see me, she'd ruffle my hair, give me a 'Good job!' and plant a kiss on my cheek.
When I was little, I dreamed of bumping into a girl in the halls, helping her pick her books up, and look into her eyes and experience love at first sight.
"Watch where you're going!" the blond hisses at me, scowling fiercely. She drops down to her knees in an annoyed manner and gathers her library books in one pile.
I kneel beside her automatically and aide her. Once she's been re-composed, she gives me one last nasty look and stomps off.
I stand there, thinking I've just died and seen an angel.
When I was little, I dreamed of having my first kiss, like in those cheesy romance movies with rose petals and candles.
My first kiss is with the angel, who turns out to actually be a boy. His name is Mello and he has the prettiest hair I've ever seen and he smells of chocolate and home.
I'm his experiment, shoved against the wall, hands pinned beside my head and another pair of lips against my own. His rosary digs into my skin even through the fabric of my shirt, and it doesn't bother me a bit.
He pushes me away and storms from the library. I stay where I am on the windowsill, looking outside at the bright blue clouds with a dazed look.
When I was little, I dreamed of growing up, getting married, and living with someone back in my mansion and spending nights cuddling and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears.
I'm fourteen and he's fifteen when we start our lives away from Wammy's. We don't live in my mansion because we're trying to be discreet, we don't get married because Mello denies any memory of giving me that promise ring, and the nights are cold because he's almost always out.
I whisper sweet nothings to myself, clasp my own hand, and pretend that it's Mello.
I almost convince myself.
When I was little, I dreamed of growing old with the one I love, and maybe even have kids; but I'd be just fine with sitting in a rocking chair with them on my lap; and our future would be clear and uncomplicated, planned out before our very eyes.
When I was little, I dreamed of a lot of things. Even back then, part of me knew that I wouldn't be as lucky as to actually have all of those dreams come true. But it was nice to believe in something, so I did.
Although while I wish for the greatest parents, the superhero powers, the love at first sight, the perfect first kiss, and the long life I'd imagined I'd have, the simplest thing I long to have was happiness.
And even though it doesn't seem like it, sitting here on our beat-up couch in a ratty apartment in the streets of L.A., I do have happiness; and it comes in the form of a door slamming open and the scent of chocolate and home.
Er...I personally think that I did a half-assed job at this. I may edit later, but for now, I need a nap. -.-