Sweet Dreams

Sweet Dreams - Short Story Version

 

 

 

                It was a forest.  It was a ‘how strange’ sort of forest that made Dahlia feel like Alice in Wonderland.  The trees had odd bark, dark as dark chocolate and giant clusters of tiny pink leaves that resembled cotton candy.  When Dahlia reached up to touch the leaves, they were just as soft and so light that the clusters almost felt transparent.

                Dahlia looked down.  Her black cherry pajamas had transformed into a strapless gown made of many layers of fine black lace.  The same lace covered her arms from shoulders to palms.  Her feet were bare under the long train of the skirt.

                She reached up and touched her hair.  Her long, curly black locks were pulled back into a tangle behind her head.  Her various lengths of bangs flounced about her face.

                “Cool.”  she said out loud.  Her voice echoed loudly, and in such an eerie way that she immediately clapped a hand over her mouth.

                She heard a rustle in the bushes up ahead, the ones that looked like blackberry and raspberry brambles.  She glanced around surreptitiously.  What could be here that she should be afraid of?

                Cheshire cat.  She thought, shuddering.  Damn thing gives me the creeps.  She stepped forward, careful not to step on something sharp on the forest floor.  After passing the bushes she reached a curtain of red licorice.  No, really, it was red licorice.  Dahlia tasted it to be sure.

                She pushed the curtain aside and emerged in a tiny clearing, much like a grove.  Dahlia excitedly looked around for a sword, waiting for her to come and claim it.  Pull the glowing blade from its sacred pedestal…

                No such thing.  Not here, anyway.

                There was a tree before her, which shone in a ray of sunshine leaking from a hole in the forest ceiling.  This tree was much different from the others.  The bark was shimmering and deeply enchanting; like staring into solid amethyst.

                Dahlia was about to come closer and reach out to touch the tree, but reeled back when someone came out from behind it.  At first she couldn’t see him or her at all on account of the sun in her eyes.  She stepped aside until the light subsided and she could see.

                He was about her height, maybe one or two inches taller.  He leaned against the tree casually, studying her as she was him.  His hair was impressive; stark black without a trace of brown and very thick.  It stuck out in all directions, but in a very sophisticated manner.  His face was calm and full of unrefined elegance, his eyes focused and two shades lighter than imperial violet.

                Dahlia’s favorite color.  She stared at him, or rather, his eyes.  She almost didn’t notice him smile at her, or the fact that he was shirtless--only wearing a few rings on his fingers and a heavy pair of dark pants.

                She blushed and looked away, and he put a hand on her arm, as if to say, Don’t be embarrassed.  She looked back at him.  She watched as he reached behind himself and pulled something out of his pack.  He held it out for her.  She smiled at it.  It was a cupcake, exquisitely hand-decorated…no, it wasn’t just a cupcake…

                A Dark Chocolate Midnight Raspberry Cupcake, like the ones from the shop…

 

~*~

 

Then she woke up.  Blinding sunlight stung her half-asleep eyes, sneaking in through a crack between the old Victorian curtains.

                Dahlia sat up and laughed groggily.  “Holy shiz buckets.  Weird dream.”  She yawned and scratched at her hair.

                “Hmm.”  she said, confused.  “I don’t remember putting up my hair before going to bed…”  She sat and thought for a moment, hugging her knees.  She shook her head and glanced at her alarm clock.

                “Hurr, I’m late for work.”  she said.

                Dahlia dragged herself out of bed, took a shower, and dressed in her favorite red t-shirt with the Japanese poem on it, jean capris, and black-and-white striped stockings.  She fixed her updo with a hibiscus clip and tied on the frilly pink apron that read Cupcake Heaven across the front in fancy, scripted handwriting.

                She clambered down two flights of stairs and entered the kitchen.  She kissed her father good morning.  He was putting the final touches on a tray of Lemony Thicket cupcakes, a customer favorite.

                 She met her mother up front.  The small woman with the bob haircut (bangs dyed pink) and Ugg boots was helping Mrs. Malone make choices for her monthly cupcake binge.

                “Good morning, Dahlia!”  said Mrs. Malone before she left, with her sweetest smile.  Dahlia waved.  The door bell dinged.

                “Well, look who decided to join us today!”  said Mom, bumping her daughter playfully.

                “Mornin’, o’ mother-of-mine.”  said Dahlia, smirking.  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

                Mom counted dollar bills and closed the register with another ding.  “I couldn’t.  You looked like you were dreaming candy-coated dreams.  Like my four year old cherub, marveling at my ‘cupcake magic’, as you called it--“

                Dahlia chucked a cherry at her mother, who caught it cleanly in one hand and popped it in her mouth.  She winked at her daughter fondly.

                “Be a dear and watch the register for moment?  I’m gonna go check on the kitchen.  Those Deatheater cupcakes you invented are becoming wildly popular!”  she said proudly,  “Mrs. Malone just bought five of them.  That reminds me, you’ll never guess what happened this morning.  Some hippie dude in a suit came in the shop and tried to sell me some organic sugar stuff that he invented.  My daughter, I tell you, it tasted worse than Splenda!  You should have seen me, I told that guy to shoo and take his fake sugar right out of my shop.  Only real ingredients go in my cupcakes.  But I swear…these organic foodies are going to create war…”  And with that she disappeared into the kitchen.

                Dahlia chuckled and made herself busy arranging a few cakes that were on display.  She hummed along with Tokio Hotel’s Sacred as it streamed from the radio.  The music gave the whole shop a certain ambiance that Dahlia liked.

                After a while, the front door dinged.  Dahlia looked up, and a skateboarder walked in, carrying his board under his arm.  Dahlia thought he looked funny in the shop; a dark figure surround by pink and polka-dotted tables with swirly chairs.  Dahlia’s mother adored all things pink and whimsical.

                Without looking at her, the boy came up to the counter.  His gray eyes scanned the windows.  Dahlia watched him for a moment.  He was wearing a beanie hat that pushed his long bangs almost into his eyes.  His hoodie was severely worn-in (complete with holes cut in the cuffs for his thumbs), his slim-flit jeans ripped and his Converse scuffed.  His face looked oddly familiar, but Dahlia knew it was impolite to stare.

                “Just let me know when you’re ready.”  she said, turning to clean the coffee machine with a rag.

                “I always tell myself that I’ll choose something different when I come here, but I almost always end up buying the same thing.”  he said, all of a sudden.  His voice was as thick as caramel and smooth as butter.  Dahlia turned, leaning against the back counter.

                “Oh?  And what’s your favorite?”

                He pointed down at the window.  Dahlia walked over and smiled at his choice.  Dark Chocolate Midnight Raspberry.  Her smile faded when she suddenly thought of her dream, and that boy"

                “One?”  she asked, pinching her hand.

                “Yup.”

                She placed a polka-dot napkin in front of him and put a glove on her right hand.  She reached into the window and gracefully grabbed one of the cupcakes.  The cupcake was dark brown with a red sleeve.  Red, yellow, orange, and white piping adorned one side of the cupcake’s cap.  A gleaming red cherry topped the whole beauty off.  She placed it on top of the napkin.

                “That’ll be three-fifty.”

                “And well worth it.”  he said, setting down his board to pull out his wallet.

Nah.  Thought Dahlia.  His eyes are gray.  He handed her three dollar bills and two quarters.  She rang it up in the cash register.

“Receipt?”

“No thanks.”  he said, putting his wallet away.  The door bell dinged again.

“Trevor!”  shouted another skateboarder.  “Hurry up!  It’s embarrassing waiting outside of this eyesore of a shop.”

“Well, this eyesore of a shop just happens to have the best desserts I’ve ever tasted.”  Trevor called back.  Had he been here that many times before?  Dahlia couldn’t remember ever seeing him.

Trevor returned his attention to Dahlia.  “That’s Ashton.”  he said, jerking his thumb towards the door.  “He doesn’t understand the splendor of the cupcake.”

Dahlia laughed.  “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Dahlia.”  he said, picking up his board with one hand and the cupcake with the other.  Dahlia’s jaw dropped.  He winked at her and gestured at the name tag on her shirt.

“Ha ha ha, of course.  I’m so out of it today.”  she said expertly, shaking her head. 

“Later.”  he said, laughing.  He went out to meet Ashton and the two disappeared down the sidewalk.

 

~*~

 

It was an unusually slow afternoon.  There hadn’t been another customer since Trevor.  Dahlia was bored of cleaning and her parents didn’t need any help in the kitchen, so Dahlia plopped herself on the ground behind the counter, and rested her forehead on her knees.

 

~*~

 

There was something different about the forest this time.  Something that made Dahlia not want to move from her solitary spot; nor even dare to breathe.  Instead of the magical, whimsical feeling she felt before, an eerie, sinister sort of wind rustled through the leaves.

                Dahlia hugged herself and shivered.  What she wouldn’t give for a lacy shawl right about now.  Where was the warm sunshine?  And the glimmering butterflies?  And the Bach-like background music?

                Everything was silent.  Everything except Dahlia’s heartbeat, which thumped louder and louder in her ears with every passing minute.  Then she heard a terrible sound that could’ve been a scream or a moan, but her mind was too alarmed to register what it was.

                She started to run.  She leaped over moss-covered stumps, fallen logs and rocks and weaved through the trees as fast as her legs would take her.  That sickening, terrifying feeling that someone was chasing her weighed heavy in the pit of her stomach.

                Her gown snagged a piece of tree bark, and she was forced to stop running.  She swore and tried to yank the fabric free, but her trembling fingers couldn’t untangle it.  Finally, she managed to rip herself free.  Suddenly someone else slammed into Dahlia, causing her to crash to the ground.  She gasped and blinked to clear her fuzzy vision.  When she looked down, the boy from last night was lying across her abdomen; chest heaving; face contorted with pain.

                He looked exactly the same, except now he was wearing a long cloak and his hair was dampened with sweat.  Dahlia hadn’t noticed it before, or maybe it was new, but he had a red heart tattooed on his left cheek.

                Dahlia sat up slowly and took him into her arms, cradling him close to her.  He was shivering, and little whimpers escaped his lips.  Dahlia stroked the heart on his cheek with her thumb.

                “Don’t worry.  I am here.”  she whispered, hoping to comfort him.  He moaned deeply, and the sound struck Dahlia’s heart with a bitter feeling.

                “What’s wrong?”  she asked, her voice barely there.  His face twisted with pain, but he managed to open his eyes.  Those beautiful, beautiful purple eyes.  They focused on her, and his expression softened.

                “It’s you.”  he breathed.  The echo-y voices were staring to creep Dahlia out, but she shrugged off the impulse to shiver.

                “Yes, it’s me.  What happened to you?”

                “The Fire Lord"“  he began, but he choked on his words and coughed up blood.  His body convulsed in Dahlia’s arms.  He let out a horrible scream that a thousand times surpassed his previous moan.

                Tears flew down Dahlia’s cheeks.  She couldn’t help it.

                “Help me…”  he cried.  Dahlia lifted away his cloak and gasped.   His side was covered in blood that was seeping into her gown.  How could she help him?  She didn’t know what to do.  She just sat there and sobbed, until she noticed him staring at her sympathetically.  A drop of sweat trailed down his face.

                “Don’t worry.”  he said, his voice low.  For a second there he almost sounded like"“I am here.”  He reached up to touch her lip, but dropped his hand.

                Dahlia sniffed and caught her breath.  “Who are you?”

                He closed his eyes and leaned his head into her chest.

                “I am your true love.”  he whispered, weakly.  “And only you can save me now.”

                Then he was gone.

                Dahlia panicked.  Was he dead?

                She started to black out…

                “Dahlia!”  cried a voice in her head.  “Dahlia!”

 

~*~

 

She woke up.  She was sitting on the black-and-white checkered floor of Cupcake Heaven, leaning against the soft pink wall.  Her mother was crouched before her, holding her by the shoulders.

                “Dahlia, are you all right?  You’re shaking.”

                Dahlia blinked.  “Yeah.  I’m fine.  Weird dream.”

                “You need sugar.”  said Mom.  She stood and reached into one of the display cases.  She held out a Dark Chocolate Midnight Raspberry Cupcake.  “Your favorite.  Eat up.  I don’t want you to pass out.”  For some reason, Dahlia almost didn’t want to take it.  Almost.

                She took it, and without getting up off the floor, peeled off the sleeve with two fingers.  She took a bite on the side with the icing flowers.  The moist dark chocolate cake…the sweet, buttery icing…the tangy surprise of the raspberry…

                I am your true love.  His face, his body, his voice, pulsed in her thoughts.  Only you can save me now.

                “Trevor!”  cried Dahlia, springing to her feet.  Her mom turned to her.

                “Trevor?  Oh, that boy who comes in regularly.  The skateboarder.”  said Mom thoughtfully.  “Honey, what is it?”

                “Something’s wrong.”  said Dahlia, stuffing her half-eaten cupcake in her apron pocket.  “I’ll be right back.”  She went out the front door before her mother could object.  Ding.

                She walked down the sidewalk, but her walk quickly became a run.  She passed cars, parking meters, people, and shops of every kind.  Where she was going, she had no idea.

                She ran until she approached the town skateboard park.  Small town, small skateboard park.  Trevor and Ashton were the only two there, playing one-to-one on the neighboring basketball court.  Everything seemed all right.

                Then Dahlia saw another boy who was walking towards them.  He was taller and thicker, with spiked red-brown hair and a heavy jacket.  Dahlia watched as Trevor and Ashton stopped playing to talk to him.  She listened hard, but couldn’t hear their conversation.  Trevor and Ashton backed up slightly when the redhead pulled something out of his jacket.

                “Dude!”  cried Ashton, somewhat frantically.

                Dahlia turned so her back faced a wall and pulled out her cell phone.  She quickly dialed 9-1-1.

                “Send police to the Autumnsville skate park!”  said Dahlia desperately, “Some kid has a gun!”  Then she hung up.

                A gun shot.

                Dahlia turned just in time to see Trevor fall and redhead making a break for it.

                Dahlia leaped over a fence and ran after him.  Pure adrenaline spurred her on, and she ran"fast.  It wasn’t long before she caught up with him in an alleyway.  She tackled him, and they landed with a loud thud.  Before he could make a move, Dahlia elbowed him in the head.

                She stood up, shaking and out of breath.  Redhead lay there, unmoving.  When Dahlia reached down to take his gun, she noticed that the back of his jacket said Autumnsville Fire Department across the back.

                “The Fire Lord…”  she whispered, curiously.  She slipped the gun out of his holster and put it in her apron pocket.  Then she headed back to the skate park.

                Ashton was kneeling over Trevor, apparently crying.  He looked up when Dahlia approached.

                “Dude, are you okay?”  he asked her.  She nodded soundlessly.  “I called for an ambulance.  Trevor’s been shot, man, he’s not gonna make it…”  he sobbed.  Dahlia glanced at Trevor’s shoes, for whatever stupid reason.  Then she noticed that he had drawn a red heart on the toe of his left sneaker; the same place she had drawn the same thing, although on her right sneaker.

                She knelt down and took Trevor into her arms.  He opened his eyes, still gray.

                “It’s you.”  he gasped.  Then he smiled weakly.  “The cupcake was delicious.”

                “Shh, don’t talk.  The ambulance will be here soon.”  she said.  Then she remembered the cupcake in her pocket.  She took it out.  It was squished, but one of the icing flowers was still miraculously intact.

                “Yeah…one last"”  whispered Trevor, with a sharp breath.

                Ashton sobbed.  “C’mon, man…”

                Dahlia held the cupcake up to Trevor’s lips, and he gratefully took a bite.

                He smiled, and then nothing.  Ashton wailed miserably.  The sound of police and ambulance sirens hummed in the air.

                Dahlia hung her head and cried.

 

~*~

 

The ambulance took Trevor to the hospital, and police officers arrested the redhead boy.  Dahlia’s parents (as well as Ashton’s) arrived at the scene just as she was handing the gun over to an officer.

                “Dahlia!”  cried Mom, hurrying over to embrace her daughter.  “Honey!  Are you all right?”

                “I’m fine.”

                “What happened?”  asked Dad.  A sob caught in Dahlia’s throat.

                “It’s all right, honey; you don’t have to tell us right now.”  said Mom quickly.  She and Dad each took one of Dahlia’s hands.  “Let’s just go home.”

 

~*~

 

Dahlia found it impossible to fall asleep that night.  She glanced at her alarm clock.  It was two-forty-five a.m.

                She heard the phone ring downstairs.  Her heart raced.  Surely it was someone calling about Trevor.  She prayed with every fiber of her being the he was alive.

                Please.  She thought.  She heard footsteps coming up the stairs.  Please, please, please.  Her door swung open.  It was Mom and Dad.

                “Dahlia honey!  That was Ashton.  He said Trevor is gonna be just fine!”  said Mom.  Tears had dampened her eyes.

                Dahlia let out a breath that she had held for far too long, and leaned back against her pillows.

                “Oh, goody good green gumdrops.”  she said.  “Now I can sleep.”

 

~*~

 

The forest had returned to normal.  In fact, it was even prettier that the first time Dahlia had been there.  Plump, shiny fruit of every color hung from the tree branches.  The golden sunlight shimmered everywhere.  

                Dahlia walked along a path through the trees, touching all the beautiful things with the tips of her fingers.  She passed by a strange part of the forest where huge pieces of broken mirrors hung from the forest ceiling.  She stared at her reflection for a moment.  She looked beautiful in her gown and multi-layered hairdo.  The purple eye shadow and the red heart tattoo on her cheek were nice touches too.

                But she missed him.

                Even in her dreams, oh, how she missed him.

                Would she ever see him again?

                She continued to wander aimlessly about, marveling at the river that scintillated in every shade of blue imaginable.  It led to a cliff where the falling water of the river looked like lotus flowers raining from under her feet to the crystalline sea below.  She stood there, up high, like she was queen of this realm.

                Which, ironically, she was.

                After awhile, Dahlia found the amethyst tree, where she had first met him.  She reached out and touched the bark, like she had meant to before.  It was cold and smooth like glass.  The color reminded her of his eyes. 

Movement behind her made her spring back, and she was unexpectedly caught in somebody’s smooth arms.

She turned and met his embrace.

 

 

Dahlia had only sweet dreams to look forward to from then on; night…and day.

 

 

 

THE END.

Author's Note

I wrote this in two days for a contest (the theme was "food"...lol) this past spring. I've edited it a little, but not much.

NOTE: I just noticed that I used Tokio Hotel in this story too. LOL
Wow, I was obsessed.....

Reviews

[Bridget Murphy]

So sad that her love existed in a fading dream, I simply loved this strory, writer more!!!:)

[Summer D.]

That was lovely. Simply lovely. I almost teared up at the end. Well-written piece.
Haha. Interesting theme, this was prompted by. :) Well done.


-Faith

[ravenjess]

you are an amazing writer my friend, this is great. it moves a little quickly but i guess that happens when you write short stories that have to be a certain length. it reminds me of you and illuminare at gaia.....coincidence???;)