November Writing Challenge

Day 3 Write a one shot about your biggest dream

I’ve been thinking long and hard about this challenge. What is my biggest dream? I have come to the conclusion that I lack ambition. I have no dream. No great aspiration. I am a content person.

So what to write?

Wishes. I could write about wishes. Dream the impossible. Isn’t that what writers do? It is how stories come to be. So I’ll write about that. A story about dreams and hope.

The following story is fictional.

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We all dream of different lives. Every time we open a book, we lock ourselves in different worlds. Magical worlds, alternative worlds, historical or futuristic worlds. Worlds that are anything but our own.

So what if we could visit these worlds in real life? Just step inside a portal and disappear to wherever. It’s been my goal for a while.

What child hasn’t sat by the window at night, waiting for Peter Pan to come whisk them away to Neverland? Or stood at the corner of a street waiting for a blue police box to arrive?

I have.

I still do.

My eyes move to the darkened sky and search the stars. It should be too hard, should it? Wendy found it easily. The second star to the right.

But there are to many stars to count and I don’t know where to start.

With a sigh I sink down my trunk. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought it. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought anything.

No one ever did in stories.

I sigh. My suitcase is all I’ve got left. I can’t go home. But I don’t have anywhere else to go either.

Quietly I open my suitcase and take out a book. Perhaps I can find a clue there.

There are all kind of stories in my suitcase. Each and everyone of them are portals to a different world. And for as long as I can remember, I have wanted to escape to one of them.

Anywhere is better than home.

My mother died at child birth. That must be why my father hats me. I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me. Does he blame me for her death? Or do I remind him of her too strongly? I may never know. He only ever speaks to me when he’s drunk. And mostly with his fists.

The only way to escape is in my mind.

But no longer.

Today I will escape for real.

The station is abandoned and I pull my coat tighter around me as I open the book. Boxcar Children. How convenient.

I let my eyes wander over the words and wonder what I will find at the end of my journey. Some long lost relative that will take me in and care for me? It seems unlikely. But isn’t that the reason I am sitting here? To find the impossible?

A sigh escapes my lips. I am cold to the bone. Do trains even run at this hour?

Soft snow starts to fall. How long have I been sitting here? I left just after my father left for the pub. It was still light then.

What will he do when he does not find me at home when he returns. How long will it be before he will even notice? Will he look for me?

A shiver runs down my spine. What if he will? He can never find me. Who knows what he will do to me?

I put the book back in my suitcase and stare down the tracks. It must have been hours and no trains has come yet. I haven’t seen other people either. I suppose they are all inside their warm comfortable homes with their families, sharing dinner and stories.

The snows falls heavier now and I get to my feet. Perhaps it is better if I start walking. The movement will keep me warm and I want to get away from here in case my father comes after me.

Carefully I move down the platform and follow the tracks.

I don’t know how long I have been walking, but I can’t go any further. The town is well behind me and the first light of the morning is on the horizon.

I need to eat.

Why didn’t I think of bringing some food. But I suppose the act of escape was enough of a risk for me. If any food had gone missing, he’d be sure to come after me.

No one steals from my father. I remember all too well the beating that had followed after I had taken an extra slice of bread the other day. According to him, I already need too much.

I sink don in the snowy grass beside the tracks.

I will rest for just one minute. My eyes focus on the snowflakes that continue to fall. And I feel my lids grow heavy.

I dream.

In my dreams I am flying and I smile. I always knew he would come, that someone would. If only I kept believing. Someone would come and whisk me away to somewhere safe.

To a place where nightmares can’t haunt you. A place of dreams. A place that’s not home.

A peace settles over me. I can’t feel the cold anymore. I only feel joy. I will finally see one of those places I’ve always dreamed about. I wonder which one it will be.

Perhaps…