I remember well enough when I had dreams; dreams that would take me away from this bad place I call reality. Dreams were one of my escapes. I had others, but nobody could guess what they were. In fact, they wouldn't even believe me if I told them what it was.

I was dreaming about life as a grown up. But I couldn't imagine myself as one. I tried to, but I felt that it wouldn't happen anymore. At least, not before last night.

Let's start with the basics of my life. I thought about me being with Penny Fitzgerald. It could happen, but along with having great friends, Carrie, Darwin, Leslie, Masami, Teri, Jamie, William, Anton, Alan, even Tobias and Tina. Hopefully I would have the entire classroom to remember as friends. Even with Miss Simian. Sure, she can be a pain sometimes, but, like me, she is just misunderstood. If they bring her out of her shell, then maybe she wouldn't be all that bad. Not even Mr. Small seems bad, or Principal Brown. Rocky's okay as well. He would be like one of my mentors. There's no adult like him, except for my dad.

I hoped to be a writer for horror, maybe along with some dark fantasy in mind-I won't forget about romance since the light of my life will be by my side, supporting me all along the way. We would have kids who would read my stories, and hey, maybe they will become writers like me, maybe more than me.

I wouldn't think of fame and fortune as my goal since its about the dream you had when you were a little kid comes true and you do what you love. Like they say, It ain't work if you love your job. I would love my job. I'd be writing to a whole group and they could write stuff inspired by my works. Who knows? Maybe it could even lead to fan fictions.

Like they say, it's a dream. A dream I wish to come true.

Now? I don't have it anymore. It just seemed to have been killed. Innocence of the dream (not like I was innocent or something) was killed. I mean, yeah, I would write about horrific things and chilling tales to scare them, but incest? I mean, I don't know what to dream about now. What's there for me to look forwards to?

Moms and sons/daughters have a special bond between each other. No lie; she would be there to hug you from the beginning and nurture you. You would always go to her for help and guidance. It's no shame to be a momma's boy, but it goes to far to say it when it means they don't like their momma. It's disrespect.

Insect...you can't look at someone the same way.

I was in my dream bubble, white and nothing there.

Moments later, I started to walk around, looking for my guidance. Nothing though. I even wanted to see things happen, like with my gift. Then again, it's not always a gift.

One time, I thought I made a good impression with some people, but in reality I saw that they thought I was dumb and an idiot. That hurt me.

I went over to the swings and hoped for something to stop. I hoped. Yet, nothing happened.

My mom came to pick me up and saw that I was upset. They know when something's bothering you.

She asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"You wouldn't understand." Then when I heard them-the ungrateful asswipes-laughing and jittering away their petty needs. I was upset since they were friends and they liked each other. So why wouldn't they like me?

"Are they hurting you, Gumball?"

"No," I said, shying away from any sign of contact with her. She saw no bruises or scars or anything on me. She even saw no marks on my face (mainly because she can see my face-even if its turned away-from the rear view mirror).

"You know, I wasn't always the most popular girl in school," she said. That got my attention. "There would always be people saying or telling others that I was stupid or ugly or I wasn't worth anything.

"I devoted myself to doing artwork. One day I drew this beautiful couple, fading into the sunset. It was very detailed and very good. But they would always say it was bad and it was literally the worst piece of trash anyone or anything has ever seen. That hurt me a lot. I used to think they were right and that I am worthless.

"Later on, I was out for recess and saw that they were drawing things too. I thought, why not see it? They say I'm bad, maybe they have something to teach me. I went over and them drawing. They drew the ugliest-which still is today-things you ever saw. They drew so much of the baddest things anyone has ever saw. I thought, This? Really? And you think my work is bad? Look at your own!

"That day, I realized something. Why should I take their opinions seriously? They draw bad! They had no proper-or any kind-judgement to say what's good and what's bad.

"So I kept drawing and drawing, improving myself for every waking second of my life. Soon I went from good to the best.

"Then one day, there was someone like me. He had this way of doing things that wasn't ordinary-maybe not even one sign of it.

"Do you know who he was?"

I shook my head.

"He was your father. He thought he was a superhero, but when I saw that people were calling him names and saying he wasn't good. I knew we weren't different. I stood up for him and we connected like no other other. You understand what I'm saying?"

"I-I think so."

"I'm saying that you have to find truth to criticism and if you can, improve yourself. But don't let haters bring you down. They're the reason you go from the bottom to the top!"

"How?"

"They gave you the courage to stand out for yourself and show them what you have. They influence you to get better, even if you were already good. Whether they have good or bad things themselves, they don't have the ability to take it to the top."

I smiled because she was right. She knew what was right because she was hurt the most.

I hugged her and that really brought a bond between me and her.

Now? I'm lost without her.