This story started out as an assignment for creative writing. Unfortunately the compressed time frame and the strict word limit altered my original vision for this story. Unsatisfied with the final story that was submitted with my final portfolio, I have decided to go back and write the story I really wanted to write. 

This is a work in progress and I'm sure the final story will be completely different from the one I set out to write, but I'm really looking forward to this new journey. I can't wait to introduce you to the characters and I hope you come to like them as much as I have.

Thank you,

Kristy

    Is there such a thing as destiny? Personally I believe the idea of some divine path to be bullshit. There might have been a time in my life when I thought otherwise. Most of the stories I had read as a child implied that all the bad things you suffered through meant you were destined for something amazing. It didn’t take long for me to find the holes in this theory. Unless of course my destiny is to stare at the same four walls all day, every day. And if that’s the case, I’m already there.

    Speaking of the four walls that make up my world, I was staring at the one on the left, the one with the window. I could just barely make out the red and yellow tulips dotting the flowerbeds below. Spring had always been my favorite time of year, even more so now since I currently spend most of the year surrounded by white, so the addition of color was refreshing. Last year my walls were covered in photographs and watercolors of the world outside. But the new hospital admin didn’t like “clutter” and I was forced to take them down. At least he couldn’t get rid of the windows, although I wouldn’t be surprised if he had tried.

    I was scanning the grounds for daffodils when I heard a soft knock at the door. I already knew who it was without looking up. Instead of acknowledging them I continued on my search for the elusive flower. The knocker cleared their throat. I continued to focus on the hunt, only this time I was looking for the purple hyacinths since I had already found the pink ones. I guess I spent too long ignoring him because he skipped the greeting and instead walked over and smacked me on the back of the head.

    “Hey!” I said glaring up at my brother Rowan. “I thought you were supposed to be nice to me.”

    “Who said that?” he said, smacking me again.

    “If you’re coming here to harass me then get out.” I said turning back to my flower gazing.

    “I guess that means you don’t want your present then?” he teased, waving a neatly wrapped package in front of my face.

    “Gimme!” I said reaching for it.

    He snatched it back and held it to his chest. “What do you say?”

    “Oh great and merciful older brother, thank you for sparing some of your oh-so-valuable time to pay a visit to your pathetic younger brother. I am not worthy of your generosity. There, happy now?”

    He tossed the package at me and sat down. “Not really. I think you could have put more feeling into it. Anyway, happy 17th birthday, little brother.”

    I examined the package carefully, turning it over, shaking it, and feeling the weight. “Let me guess. It’s a cement block?” I shook it again. “Or perhaps you brought me the heart of Snow White?”

    “You wound me,” he said grabbing his chest. “I wish I could have gotten you something more exciting but a librarian’s salary only stretches so far.”

    “I’m just happy you remembered. Unlike someone else.” Before he could reply, I tore open the gift. Underneath the paper was a book titled The Language of Flowers and Their Meaning. I stroked the photograph of the hydrangea on the cover before carefully opening the book and paging through the photographs.

    “It’s beautiful.” I murmured.

    “I’m glad you like it. I wish I could have afforded to get you a camera so you could take your own pictures someday.”

    I looked up at him. “This is more than enough. Thank you.”

    “I have one more surprise,” he said, pausing for effect, “I brought Chinese for dinner, and Miss Ingrid sent your favorite strawberry cake for dessert.” Rowan grinned.

    “By any chance is there a nail file hidden in the center?”

    Rowan began to laugh. “I think we need to cut back on the noir fiction for a while.”

    "And turn my back on Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe? Never!"

    Rowan continued to chuckle as he set the food containers on the hospital tray. My mouth began to water in anticipation. Just one look at the bright pink containers and I knew this wasn't ordinary Chinese takeout, these containers belonged to our neighbor Mrs. Xiao. I guess you could say that pink was her signature color, almost everything she owned was pink, from the curtains in the windows to the custom pink Chevy Camaro parked in the garage. In addition to her pink obsession, Mrs. Xiao was also the best cook in the world and since her children were grown up and had scattered across the globe she dealt with her empty nest syndrome by over feeding my brother and I.

    I scooted to the side of my bed, a task made easier since my nurse graciously unhooked my IV before the end of her shift. I carefully opened the first container, underneath a cloud of steam were half a dozen char siu boa or steamed pork buns. Before I could grab one, Rowan opened the largest container. The sweet smell of Peking Duck filled the room. My fingers trembled as I reached for a piece of skin that had slipped loose, placing it in my mouth. Instantly the skin melted on my tongue, the sweet and spicy flavors mixing together in perfect harmony. I hummed with satisfaction as Rowan placed a small plate of duck meat and rice in front of me. He then made up a plate for himself and sat in the chair next to my bed.   

    While we ate we chatted about the usual stuff, books we were reading, what we watched on TV last night, and a number of other topics. And because it was my birthday Rowan tip-toed around my recent appointment with the neurologist  and completely avoided any discussion regarding our father. In spite of the location, it was a drama free birthday.

    When we finished our plates my brother opened the cake box that engulfed the little table in the corner of my room. The cake was already sliced, each slice a perfect square, and in the center of each piece was a miniature marzipan strawberry. There was enough cake to feed a small army or at least all the nurses on the fourth floor. It wasn't long before a number of nurses, doctors, and other support staff descended on my room in search of cake. The charge nurse, well, took charge, and served the slices while everyone sang and wished me a Happy Birthday. 

    The end of visiting hours, as usual, came too soon. Rowan reluctantly left and the nurses and doctors slowly trickled out and returned to their stations. My nurse checked my vitals one more time before tucking me in and turning out the lights. It wasn’t long before quiet had descended on my room – well, as quiet as it can get in a hospital. I laid back and closed my eyes, ready to once again escape from these four bare walls.  

When was the last time I felt a breeze across my skin? I slowly opened my eyes to a blue sky. I was lying in the grass on a small hill, the warm sun shining down on me. It was so peaceful and serene. I closed my eyes again so I could fully experience the quiet sounds of nature. I listened to the bees buzzing overhead and inhaled the fragrance of the nearby lilies. It had been about 3 months since I discovered this hidden garden, but I already felt like I belonged here. I was starting to settle in for another nap when I heard the sound of snapping twigs. I sat up with a start.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" A voice called out.

I turned around and saw a girl at the top of the hill looking down at me. A halo of sunshine made her blonde hair sparkle. I'm not sure how long I looked at her, but I came to my senses when she flopped down next to me.

"Hello," she said "fancy meeting you here."

She was looking down at me, her hair cascading over her shoulder and lightly tickling my nose. I glanced up at her again and then rolled to my side with a heavy sigh. Once again my peace was disturbed by this girl.

"Ignoring me won't make me go away, you know," she said. And to prove her point, she stretched out next to me on the grass.

"I'm not ignoring you," I mumbled. "I just don't want to talk right now."

When I first ventured in to the garden 3 months ago, I believed it was an elaborate dream; a way to compensate for the new white walls of my room. I also wondered if one of the side-effects of my new medication included hallucinations. I did learn that this dream garden was, in fact, a dream – just not mine. It was on my third visit when I met Alyce, and within minutes, I became convinced that she was not a dream. It has been my experience that dream girls don't usually drop kick you to the ground when you first meet them.

"That's too bad, I was going to give you something for your birthday, but if you're not interested..."

"I'm not," I said.

"Are you sure? It's pretty good," she said in an annoying singsong voice.

"Don't care," I said rolling onto my back.

"Well then," she said standing up and brushing off her pants. "I'm going to go enjoy the new addition to the pond. You won't believe how hard it was to get just the right shade of pink on those lotus blossoms. Well, see you later."

Alyce took off down the hill in the direction of the pond. Grumbling, I rose to my feet. The lotus was one of the plants on my must-see list and she knew it. I guess knowing a person's inner desires are one of the privileges given to dream-seers. It was times like this that I wished this were a real dream, and then I could make her disappear in a cloud of smoke like the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz. Although, since the garden was technically part of her dream, she could just as well kick me out whenever she felt like it. It was a complicated feeling.

It didn't take long for me to catch up to her. I suspect she decided to walk slowly, knowing I would take the bait. I couldn't see the smirk on her face but I certainly felt it. We fell into a comfortable silence as we followed the path down to the pond. We hadn't gone far before I began to notice subtle changes in the scenery. On my first visit, landscape felt one-dimensional, more like Farmville and less like a place you would find in the real world. Alyce later explained to me that most dreamseers put very little effort into what they called their áit; or home base, preferring instead to keep follow a minimalist approach to decorating. Alyce was the opposite, she wanted to create something beautiful, perhaps that's why she chose a garden instead of a castle or city-scape.  She had clearly been busy since the last time I visited. She not only added to the pond, but she had made changes everywhere. It wasn't just the plants either; she had added birds and insects. Her skills were definitely improving. It won't be long before this dream garden surpasses any garden in the real world.

It wasn't long before the pond came into view, with the red Japanese bridge rising out of the water like dragon. As we got closer to the bank I could see the pink and white lilies floating above the water. I stopped in my tracks, the scene was so beautiful, so magical, and all I could do was stare in amazement. Before I could become completely lost in the moment I felt a hand grip my arm. Alyce beamed at me, her smile full of excitement and mischief.

"Last one there is a rotten egg!"

Before I could respond she had already taken off at full sprint down the slope. I took off after her. Thanks to my longer stride I passed her in no time, skidding to a halt a few feet from the pond. Within seconds she was at my side breathing heavily. While she paused to catch her breath I noticed that my breathing hadn't changed. Alyce must have noticed the strange look on my face because after taking one last gulp of air she turned towards me.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I...just...why were you out of breath? And why wasn't I? I'm the sick one here, if anyone should be out of breath it should be me..."

Alyce chewed her bottom lip and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. I had learned early on that any question regarding the garden or herself made her anxious. I tried to live in the moment and enjoy my surroundings, but sometimes my curiosity got the better of me, and I would badger her with questions. But she would avoid answering me and before I knew it I had forgotten the original question.  But this time I wasn't going to let it go.

"What's going on? Why are you breathing and I'm not?" I asked, barely hiding the twinge of anxiety in my voice.

"I...can't, I can't keep breaking laws. I've already told you more than I should have. " she said, moving away from me and closer to the pond.

"Please Alyce." I pleaded.

She took a deep breath before continuing on. "How should I explain this? Umm, I guess the simple explanation is that for you, this is a true dream.  Whereas for me, this is another part of my existence."

"I don't get it," I said. I could feel the pressure in my head building. "Isn't this place a dream for you too? I thought you lived in the real world too."

Alyce massaged her brow before continuing. "Sorry, it's a bit more complicated than that. This place is a dream, but to me this is also a real place.  Dreamseers can live or exist in the living world and within dreams. A regular person can only live in the real or waking world, dreams are figments of your imagination. It's just a coincidence that you ended up here, in my áit. Simply put, your body is like a projection, but my body is a really here."

"I still don't get it. So when you enter here, your body in the "living world" disappears?"

"Not exactly. I guess it's more accurate to say that I have two bodies? Ugh, this is so hard to explain. Umm, okay, think of your life as a book."

"Really?" I asked.

"Just go with me on this."

"Okay, fine. My life is a book." I said, crossing my arms.

"Right, regular people have one book," she waved her hand and a book magically appeared in front of me. "And Dreamseers," she waved her hand again, "have two books," two more books appeared and hovered in front of her. "My soul can only be active in one place at a time, so body acts as bookmark." 

The books flew open. At first I thought all three books were empty, but then I saw a the sun glinting off something in the book to her right. I leaned closer and saw a silver bookmark nestled between the pages. I was still feeling confused when she continued on with her explanation.

"When I travel from the living world to the dream world my body or my "bookmark", stays behind to "hold" my place." The bookmark disappeared from the book on the right and reappeared in the book on the left, which abruptly closed. 

I tried to wrap my head around this new revelation, and although I sort of understood what she was saying, it was still a bit too existential for someone who hadn't seen the inside of a classroom in last two years.

"I think I get it...maybe. I guess it's easier to understand when you're born into that environment." It was a cop-out statement, but when I looked at her I could tell she wanted to change the subject. So I swallowed my remaining questions and played along. "So...how long did it take you to get the right shade of pink on those petals?"

She smiled, "More than I would care to admit. Do you like them?"