Flash Fiction (Stories under 1000 words)

Dreams

Dreams are what we hope for, but never get.

I remember when David Fitcher and I used to hold hands as we walked through the mall. We walked past the flashing lights of arcade games, and bright colored dresses put on display. it was on that day when he just casually slipped his hand into mine and laced our fingers together, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn't even look at him. I just kept holding his hand and walking. We acted like it was normal. The smile on his face that day made me feel so happy inside.

I remember the time I sprained my ankle, and had to stay inside with the pain all day. He came over to my house and sat with his arms around me the entire time, swaying me slowly back and forth on the old love seat, the TV blaring old cartoons. He rocked me to sleep that night.

I even remember the first time I heard him say he liked me, not knowing I was even in the room. I was so excited to tell my sister.

But more than that, I remember the kiss and the first time David told me he loved me.

That week he had sulked around school, with a certain torment on his face. The light in his eyes had vanished, and he would barely even look at me. I remember asking him over and over what was wrong, but he would never tell me. It made me feel so much more distant from him. But then one day, as he was driving me home from the library, he pulled into a nearby parking lot by the small playground where the neighborhood kids always played. Rain drizzled on our windows, as he stared at the night sky before us. I almost thought I saw tears in his eyes.

So I asked him again, as I had many times, "David, what's wrong?" And this time he answered.

"I'm alone."

"David, why would ever believe that was true?"

He turned to me, and put on a weak smile. And he said the words I had been waiting for since the day he said my name.

"I love you, Emily."

"I love you too." I answered simply.

He cradled my face in his strong and gentle hands. Those hands had many times been used to braid my hair, and kept me strong in hard times. Those hands had lead my hand across the page of my Bible at Sunday morning service. Those hands had been in mine, laying in the grass and watching the night stars. They were hands I longed for.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. A beautiful kiss. A sweet kiss. A simple kiss.

I was in love with David Fitcher.

And when I awoke from all of these dreams, and smiled at the feelings they gave me, I prayed for them to come true. And then I'd smile at my old friend walking down the street with his beautiful girlfriend on his arm, and he'd smile back.

I don't see David much these days. I guess some things are only meant for dreams.