I Dream Of Roses

I Dream of Roses

"We're going to be fine, nothing's going to happen, don't worry." Those were the words my mother said when people had started to march in the streets declaring their freedom. I loved my country, its soil and trees and bustling, busy streets. Never could I imagine living on different land and not breathing the same air. I drew in a deep breath as I reached the top of the hill I had been climbing and let my eyes glance down at my home, the field was filled with cattle, the dogs barking away at grazing sheep, and most importantly the rose garden. I had spent many years growing all the roses with my father. We would spend all afternoon mixing up all the different colours in the shrubs to get exotic shades and dyes for our beautiful roses. Even though they had prickles and they would scratch me every once in a while it was okay, my father had always told me that the hard bumpy roads often lead to a beautiful destination.

I looked up from my knees, as the salty sea air played with my hair, at the setting sun; it was a pale yellow colour that reminded me of over-washed white vests. The kind my father would wear when it was too hot. Still seeing the toothy grin on his sweaty face when he used to wave me off to school, I sighed. My mother's asleep. I can hear her tired breath fanning my ear. Squeezed on her chest is my beloved baby brother. For as long as I remember, I have dreamt of having a sibling; to have someone to play with when the neighbours all go home, to have someone to eat lunch with instead of listening to my parents' chatter, to have someone to sneak watermelon slices or "smiles" when no one was paying attention. But my dream didn't come true the way I wanted them to.

I drifted off to sleep, with the thought of the happy days on my mind, the bobbing of the boat and the calm calls of the sea were helping me to sleep, but they weren't supposed to. They were supposed to remind me of the life we left behind, the family we forgot and the school chairs we abandoned. Nevertheless I was soon snoring, pictures of me running with my bare feet slapping the muddy track, of my mother humming along to a sweet melody as she put up the laundry, dancing in front of my eyes as they fluttered shut. Where oh where have the enjoyable days gone? Or to be precise, where are we wandering off to?

My mother's cold hands were hurriedly shaking me awake. She was whispering for me to wake up, but there was something in her voice that I hadn't heard for a while now. Was that hope? I sat up and looked at her through my droopy eyes. That sure was a big smile. "What happened?" She didn't answer my question; it was like she was in a daze of happiness. I was about to ask again when I noticed something was not the same. I wasn't moving up and down continuously, I was standing still.

I looked around and realized the boat we were in was half empty; everyone was filing out of the boat in a rush, eager to explore the shores we had pulled into. The first thing I noticed was that the sky was bluer and clearer. The air was cleaner too; it wasn't filled with the scent of bullets and pain and death. Oh well, let's see what this new land has to offer.

A medical team welcomed us, with their impressive tools, pale faces and light coloured hair. There were so many people, men and women, all lending a hand to whoever needed help. I had only noticed the scratch on my forehead when they put that clear liquid on. I hadn't felt it before. The woman that applied it started to talk to me in a foreign language and even though I couldn't understand, her voice was soothing and it helped me calm down. After they had me cleaned up, they moved on to the second person behind me in the line that was forming at my heels. Other boats were also landing on shore.

It's like my life had an earthquake and it shook my whole life upside down. I feel like a charity case, or maybe I really am. People donate us food as if we never had our own land to plant greens on, we had wells to bring our water from and now we drink from plastic bottles. They live a different life here, which they call modern but we call exaggerated.

I woke up with a jolt, I had a dream. It was a wonderful dream but it reminded me of the dreaded present. Wafts of the roses in my dream flew by my nose, the screams and shouts of the village children playing filled my ears. When was I going to go back to those muddy paths and rusty doors?

My dreams still have happy endings, my heart still has hope. I imagine a world of global peace and happiness. One day, my dreams will come true, and so will many others. Until that day we will have to wait, we will have to be patient, because good things come to those who wait.
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Hello. Thank you to whoever took the time to read my short story. Keep in mind that the 5-7 minutes you took reading this story took me hours to read and edit :) If you liked my story please let me know by commenting or clicking the little star to vote. Thanks again.💙
In a while butterfly! 🦄