Dreams Never Die

Crispy

The clouds were spread across the skyline, like perfect fluffs of cotton. The background was a brilliant blue, fading into the pinks and oranges as the skies of New York darkened. Crispy looked out his window indifferently, as this was the same scene he saw almost everyday. It was tiring. When the silence was at its best, the doorbell rang out, like the droning hum of a broken alarm clock. Silently, Crispy moved towards the door.

"Whooooo isss it?" Crispy's mother called. Her nagging voice always got the better of Crispy. She was always on his back about everything. He absolutely hated it.

"Another ditcher, mom," he said, like he did every other weekend. Crispy lived in a smaller house in the town of Manor Hood. He lived with his mother, stepfather, brother, and sister. He wasn't very fortunate, but he wasn't one to take anything for granted, either. He appreciated what he had, and wasn't ready to let anything slip from his grasp.

"Goddammit, not another one. Crispy, did you see them this time?" she called again.

"No, mother," Crispy answered. He never saw who it was. If he ran after them, he would probably catch up. He was on the track team, after all. Fast as lightning. But he never did. It's almost as if he wanted them to interrupt his life. He slammed the door in anger.

"If you slam that door one more time, I'll smack you into next week," his mother growled. He slumped back into his room and flopped onto his bed.

Crispy had black, short hair, that poked out of his head like needles. He wore oval-rimmed glasses, and behind them he had dark brown eyes that would brighten when he laughed. He wasn't the tallest person alive, but it didn't cover his bursting personality one bit. He was very creative with what he said, and wasn't afraid to push limits. He's hispanic, which some people would make fun of him for, but to his true friends, his culture didn't mean anything. He didn't let it bother him.

Crispy glanced at the clock. It was 9:11 p.m. Darkness fell quickly on his house. He decided that maybe he should go on xbox, and have someone brighten his day. He signed into his account. Instantly, he got 4 invites.

"Jord, Spice, Toxic, D Dog," he says, as he goes through his invites. He decides to party hop. He joins D Dog's party first.

"Hey Crispy, wanna play some Halo with me and yodastone? I know he's annoying, but he's not all that bad," D Dog says without taking a breath. Crispy sighs. He doesn't really like yodastone. He doesn't feel like playing with D Dog now, either.

"Maybe tomorrow, D Dog." Crispy said tiredly. D Dog was bummed, but he let him go. Crispy left his party, and decided to join Toxic's party next. He accepts the invite, and waits to join the party.

"Can't connect to Xbox Live Party, damn," Crispy says. People always said he had McDonald's connection, and he knew it too. He reluctantly scrolled down to Jord's invite. Accept. There was already 6 squeakers screaming their heads off in the party. Crispy's head pounded.

"Crispy!" Jord exclaimed over the dolphin noises. "How's my fellow mexican doing?"

"Tired." Crispy said monotonously.

A squeaker, Mouse, who was the leader of the party, asked who Crispy was. Since he didn't know, he asked Crispy one question.

"Hey Crispy," Mouse squealed. "What do you do to a soccer ball?"

Not thinking, Crispy replied "What?"

"YOU KICK IT!" Mouse yelled. Instantly, Crispy was booted from the party. He needed to calm down. Last invite. Spice.

"Hey Crispy. You okay?" she asked innocently. No, he wasn't okay. Why was she asking this? Did something seem wrong? Instinctually, he lashed out at her.

"No, I'm not okay! Go play with Justin! Leave me ALONE!" he said angrily.

She was hurt. "Oh, sorry Crispy. I'll talk to you some other time then," she said quietly, almost like a whisper. Then she left the party. Crispy felt so guilty afterward. He didn't mean to lash out at everyone. He took off his broken headset, put down his controller, and turned off his xbox. Then he jumped back onto his bed, and fell fast asleep, into a dream that he would awaken from in the morning, but wish that he could wallow in forever.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dreaming. Crispy found himself in a classroom, a very boxy, simplistic, almost elementary classroom. The walls were gray and stained with yellow and brown marks. The cold metal desks made him shiver, not only with coldness, but also with fear. The bolts holding the walls together were becoming displaced. A room in the corner held weapons such as golf clubs and hammers. Odd for a classroom.

A doorway was apparent on the left side of the classroom, beside the so-called teacher desk. Crispy glided slowly into the next room. Within it, there were long tables with campfire-style seats. A lunch bar ran the length of the room. Towards the end lie two translucent shell shaped shields, seemingly made of pure energy. He could not push through them.

He made his way back to the classroom. Instead of finding it empty, he found another being. The figure looked almost human. Except, it didn't have a clear face. Still, it was magnificent.

Crispy walked slowly towards it, to see if it was real. He put out his hand to touch it. Suddenly, it jerked and grabbed Crispy by the wrist. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound emerged.

The figure leaned in closely and whispered softly, "ravioli, ravioli, give me your virginioli." Crispy nodded his head. Slowly, they started to lean into each other and locked lips. Then, it all faded to black.

* * * * * * * * * *

Crispy awoke with a start. He was sweating, and he was on the ground. He looked around dazedly, trying to make sense of what just happened. His eyes were burning. His lips sore. His bones aching. He squinted to see the clock. It was 3:34 am.

Crispy got up and drunkenly walked to the bathroom, careful not to slip on the liquids drizzled on his feet. He tripped into the bathroom, flicked on the light, grabbed both sides of the sink firmly, and looked up into the mirror. He was a mess. He wiped his face, flattened down his hair, and adjusted his shirt. Once he was satisfied, he crept back to his room. But before he went back to sleep, he tiptoed back to the bathroom and flicked off the light.