Roger slept past ten, past eleven and past twelve a.m. He couldn't wake up and he didn't know that his alarm had been snatched away in the night. He knew nothing except his dreams and talking gulls. He dreamt also about Olimpia's golden room.
He yawned and tossed over and fell into his pillow. Like, actually he fell into a damp, dark hole screaming. His arms and legs waved violently around, his head spun, his mouth fell open but he didn't sob or vomit. He couldn't sob or vomit however hard he tried. Then, light shone in his eyes, it was as golden as Olimpia's hair and room. A rainbow added to the colour, Roger gasped, it was so beautiful. Grass was as minty and relaxing as the sky was stunning, it calmed everything down.
A young, golden-haired, giggling girl offered her hand to Roger.
"Good morning. I love you're clothes, by the way." She laughed, swinging Roger's hand with joy. She was smaller than he was but only by an inch. Roger chuckled, he loved this girl more than he loved his parents.
"Thanks, O- I mean, thanks," Roger nodded, flushing red. The girl fluttered her eyelashes, smiling. Her golden ringlets touched Roger and he recognised the touch, confusing.
"O? I may as well tell you my name as you are so handsome, it's Olimpia, like it? I love it, I have one sister named Anne and a brother named Louie. We're all so gorgeous, haha!" Olimpia grinned. Roger nodded, he had forgotten about what had happened before this Universe now. A flash of adoration hit his eye and he bent down and kissed Olimpia's hand. She collapsed over Roger's shoulder by shock and he snogged her lips while she was on the ground. It was impossible not to fall for Olimpia.
His eyes couldn't keep off Olimpia until he saw a prettier girl gliding up the street with a flouncy, pastel pink dress. Roger bowed and Olimpia opened her eyes and when she saw the girl, flushed and sprinted over to a handsome boy who was whistling, hands deep in his pockets. The beautiful girl made her way over to him and he reddened, falling on to the ground.
"What the hell, do you think you were doing with my sister?" The girl raised a fist and hit Roger around the face with it. The boy glared at Roger while standing in front of his sister, sheltering her.
"I-I'm sorry, my m-mistake," Roger stammered, clutching his bruise and wincing from pain. The minty, grassy, refreshing smell did not calm the pain down or even calm Roger down.
"You'll come with us, boy." The boy hissed, dragging Olimpia, who was staring at Roger, forwards. The older girl pushed Roger forwards and spat on his shoes.
