City of the Dead

Chapter 15

Typical, at my old home again. Yet another dream I can't seem to wake up from. But the house is empty. No mother or father to fill this empty house, only the furniture left behind. I walk into my old room, my small bed from when I was a kid, and my desk filled with drawings.

"Come on Anna, we're going to play baseball!"

That voice, who is that?

"I'm coming!"

I see a little girl running to the front door, I go to look for her but she's already out of the house. I went to chase her, but as soon as I open the door a baseball field lay before me. I look around and find four children about to play a game of baseball.

"Alright! Let's play some ball!" said a small black-haired boy, as the umpire of the game. David?

"Look alive Burns!" said the blonde-haired boy, with the ball in his hand. Isaac.

"You ready for this fly ball Anna!" said the boy with glasses and the bat at hand. Bernard.

"You're not going to hit anything Bernard!" That's me, playing in the outfield. With my short hair, I thought it was another boy, figures, I wouldn't recognize myself.

I sit in the grass to watch the game, reminiscing about the old days. How happy we were, and so lively.

*Crack* A hit from Bernard's bat as it made impact with the baseball. It goes flying into the outfield, with me trying to run as fast as I can to try and catch the ball. My small legs were no match for Bernard's powerful hit as I couldn't keep up. I couldn't help but laugh as I saw my child self trip and start rolling on the ground. Isaac and David certainly had a good laugh from it too as Bernard was too focused on getting to home plate. My child self threw the ball to Isaac and from Isaac to David, but it was no use as Bernard had already made it to home plate.

They kept playing again and again until it was my turn to be at bat. The bat being overwhelming big compared to her size, it was almost laughable. As Isaac throws the ball, little Anna misses, he throws again, she misses again. One more miss and she's out, but the determination in her eyes tells me she's not ready to quit. As Isaac throws the ball, *crack* the ball made an impact, and not just a hit, but a home run. Little Anna was so happy and excited, she was jumping up and down with joy. With her taking her time to reach each base. But with each base she touches, a friend of hers disappears. First, Bernard, second base, Isaac, third base, David, she runs to home base, but alas she trips and starts crying. No one there to help her get up or encourage her to keep going. Feeling sympathetic to my young self, I go to help the little girl, asking her, "Are you okay?"

My younger self with her eyes puffy from the crying and her small figure seems so fragile. "No, I fell, and I'm all alone. Where are my friends?" she asked.

I took the little girl and held her close to my chest. Call it self pity, but I hate seeing my younger self cry like this in my own dream. It's like my subconscious is trying to torture me. "Don't cry, you are never alone, little one." I rocked her as she kept crying. That was when I said, "You know, when I was hurt and I didn't know what to do, you know what I did."

*sniff* "What?"

"I would remember all the happy times I had with my friends and family, and whenever I think about them, it gives me the courage and the strength to keep going. Sure you might fall and cry sometimes, but not all the time, because they will always be there for you, no matter what."

"All the time?" my small self asked me.

"Of course, all the time." I reassured her.

"Even though they are dead?"