Dreams of Dexter

This is a short story I wrote a few months back. My mom told me to write about animals, and for some reason this is what came out. This is from the perspective of a seven year old girl.

Dreams of Dexter

 

          This is the story of a giraffe named Dexter. Dexter used to be my best friend. I would tell him all of my secrets and in exchange, he would tell me his.

          I visited Dexter every single day since about the summer I turned five. I am seven now. We always had a grand old time. One time, I dressed him up in a tux, with a bowtie and all. He looked very handsome. I put on a long white gown and I was the bride of a giraffe. We smiled and then played all day.

          Sometimes, Dexter would let me ride on his back. But then he would get tired. He would lie down and I would entwine my arms around his long neck. I understood Dexter. Dexter understood me. It was because we had something in common. We were both very sick. When I felt weak, Dexter felt weak too, and on those days when we felt weak, we would just lie in the grass until the sky became a pallet of orange and pink paint.

          Then, when night fell, I would have to leave or else my mother would worry. She seemed to worry about me a lot. I could never actually remember leaving, but I must have left somehow because in the morning I would be awakened back into my white room with my heart making lines on a machine next to me. Then Sally would come in to give me my medicine. Sally always wore a white coat. Sally always listened when I told her about my adventures with Dexter. She would smile and wipe the tears out of her eyes. Maybe she was sad that she didn’t have a best friend like Dexter. But I was Sally’s friend. I liked Sally.

          After my medicine, I would eat my breakfast. It was usually lumpy, bland oatmeal and dry toast. What I really wanted was Trix cereal, or pancakes in the shape of a Mickey Mouse head like how my dad used to make them. But after a while, I learned not to complain. They all said that eating nutritious food would help me get better. Though to be honest, I didn’t think that any amount of healthy food would get rid of my cancer.

          Once I finished my breakfast, I would lay my head back down on my pillow. On one particular day, I was more tired than usual. My eyes closed and I slowly drifted back to Dexter.

          When I got there, I noticed that something was different. The sky was overcast and grey, instead of its usual blue. Then I saw Dexter lying under a tree. Something wasn’t right about him.

“Dexter,” I whispered, “what’s wrong?”

He just looked at me, barely moving his head.

“Dexter! Please, tell me what’s the matter!” I cried.

He told me that it would be okay, told me not to be scared. Then he slowly put his head down and closed his eyes. Then, I understood. I too laid down, my body nestled against his neck, and I closed my eyes as well.

          From a distance I could hear a noise that sounded like my heart machine. But instead of making its usual rhythmic Beep…Beep…Beep, it was just one long Beeeeeeeeep. But I knew it was okay. Dexter told me so. So I snuggled closer to my best friend.

“I love you Dexter.”

Those were the very last words I ever said.

 

The End

Author's Note

So, basically Dexter is a symbol of this little girl's sickness. He is a way for her to cope with it. What did you think? Positive and/or negative feedback please! :)
(By the way, is the sentence, "I too laid down." correct? Or is it "I too lay down."?)

Reviews

[Merey]

BRILEY! You are such a good writer!!!
This made me cry! I'm not even kidding!
I bawled big gushy tears as soon as I read,"Then, I understood. I too laid down, my body nestled against his neck, and I closed my eyes as well."
It was wonderful! VERY WELL DONE! D:

[Ross]

This is very original and well written. Her imaginary and trusted friend is perfectly portrayed as her alter ego. "I too lay down" is correct but the other expression is not incorrect.