I Dreamed a Dream
—: There was a time when men were kind; when their voices were soft; and their words inviting :—
It was possible that he was the most putrid man she had ever met on the face of the earth. His hair was slick with oil, his hands were lathered with grime, and his beard housed crumbs from yesterday's meal. Her son added an unflattering adjective, smelly, before his name, and although she could have—should have—told her son not to call him that, she couldn't deny the truth. And it wasn't only his appearance that stank; his personality was no more charming.
He didn't know how to treat a woman; in fact, she was almost positive that he didn't know how to treat a human, excluding his poker friends that were just like him. He didn't have manners, he didn't have class, he didn't have money—all he had that would be the slightest bit of use to her, was his body odor.
If not for the lingering stink he omitted, she was sure that she would have left him long ago. But however badly he acted, however terribly he smelled, however horridly he treated them, he was vital for the safety of her son. The stench was so extreme, that it not only warded off humans, but monsters as well. And that was important. She valued the safety of her son over anything else—as long as he would be safe, she would be able to bear living another day with him.
But during the school year, her son would leave to whichever boarding school he was currently attending, and she would be stuck, alone in their dingy apartment, with him. Throughout the day, she worked at the candy company, stuffing sticky bits of candy into plastic bags. When night fell, she returned to her lousy home. Most days, she spent hours catering to his every pathetic need, hoping that he would either become too drunk to remember she was there, or so drunk he simply passed out with exhaustion. However, once in a blue moon, the good nights would com where he was out late, playing poker with his beastly friends, and he wouldn't stumble back into the apartment until she was fast asleep.
On those nights, she cried alone on her son's bare bed, burying her head in the pillows. It smelled like him, like the ocean, like his father. It stimulated painful flashbacks at random, bouncing around her head like a wild beach ball in the wind, bringing back heartache and memory and worst of all, dreams of what it was once felt like to be in love.
—: I dreamed a dream in times gone by; when hope was high; and life worth living :—
She was once young: fresh out of college and horridly naïve. Her heart desired for adventure, for experience, and she had jumped at every chance she got. Life was grand, it was miraculous, she was on a high that she hoped to never fall off from. She moved to New York City, despite the expenses, and explored the urban environment, marveling at the skyscrapers and the people and the nature.
It was a new page in her book, and it was full of excitement and wonder. She had hopes that while in this magical city, she would fulfill her dream and become a best-selling author. She hoped to reach out to other people through her writing and become something—someone—inspiring.
How ignorant she had been. In contrast to her imaginings and hopes, there she was, crying her heart out, married to a man she absolutely abhorred, and dreaming about the one man she couldn't seem to forget, despite the miserable luggage that came with.
—: He slept a summer by my side; he filled my days with endless wonder; he took my childhood in his stride; but he was gone when autumn came :—
She was once in love. It was now a distant memory, but if she really wanted to, it could all come back as clear as day, flooding her mind with nothing else.
It had been the summer after college when she had first met him, the father of her child. It was at a beach, and her uncle had rented out a summer-home for her over the season. It wasn't until the second week that she met him for the first time. He had been… life-guarding, was it? There had been some… divinely glow to him, and it had mesmerized her from the moment she laid eyes on him. He had approached her first, making some light conversation with her. And from then on, he had her caught in his web that he carefully strung, capturing a little bit more of her with each day that passed. And she loved it. She loved him.
He had taken her places she had never been before, and they had never once left the beach. From all her experiences in high school, college, New York City even, she had never felt like that—so alive, so in love. It was absolutely thrilling, and she had eaten it up like a starving man. She had even reached a point in her thoughts where she truly believed that it was it; he was The One for her.
However, when the first of August came, he had left her, like so many other good things in her life had. He had to leave her, she knew, but he had also unknowingly left her a child. She had despaired over the loss, although she knew she should have expected it, but she managed to pull herself together—from then on, it was no longer about her, but about their child.
—: And still I dream he'll come to me; that we'll live the years together; but there are dreams that cannot be :—
On those nights when she lied on her son's bed, crying until she could shed no more tears, the memories came running back to her in a blur, some coming so fast that she couldn't process them. They overwhelmed her with that once familiar sensation of love, and for the slightest moment, a spark of hope was lit.
For a single moment, she hoped that he would come back to her, back to their family. But he had duties to fulfill—tasks that didn't concern people from this world—and reality came crashing back down on her: her happiness was not infinite.
—: I had a dream my life would be; so different from this hell I'm living; so different now from what it seemed; now life has killed; the dream I dreamed :—
When she was young, she had once imagined her life in the future. There had been no tears, no sadness, no Smelly Gabe. There had been her, her son, Percy, and him. They had been happy, carefree, and together. Percy wouldn't have to go to boarding schools, away from her for most of the year. They both wouldn't have to return from their respective places to their lousy apartment with a sorry excuse for a man. She wouldn't have to cry herself to sleep.
She dreamed of doing something amazing, of being surrounded by people she loved, who loved her in return. She dreamed of happiness and laughter and joy. She had dreamed of Poseidon, of a place where men like Smelly Gabe didn't exist. She dreamed of travelling around the world, adding page after page after page of experiences to her book.
Sally dreamed of her dreams existing.
NB:
I Dreamed a Dream — Les Miserables
Tumblr: universalborderlines
The sections don't really flow, but they somewhat correlate to the lyrics. Wrote it impulsively... just sat down and wrote; didn't proofread or anything. Enjoy x