Dreams That Do Not Matter (gmw fanfiction)

Girl Meets 1961

Verity's POV

"The '60s, man. Influential musician like Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. Playing guitars and singing like prophets. The times, they were a-changin'," Mr. Matthews starts his History class.

"The class, they are a-sleepin'," Farkle adds.

From what I see when I look around, at least half of the class really is asleep. Me included. It's not that I'm bored with the topic, I like learning about history. I love hearing stories of people who lived in different times than we do now. I like getting to see deeper into things, understanding more. But some days, apparently today is one of those, it is incredibly hard to keep my eyes open.

Missy next to me also tries her hardest to stay awake. It is pretty clear she is exhausted. What can I say? Good night sleep, or rather any night sleep, is not the luxury we have. Sometimes I'm kinda envious of others, who can sleep normally.

"You should teach us future class," Maya's voice suddenly rings through the classroom. I guess I was spacing out, because for once I have no idea where the conversation is heading and what type it is anyway. But I get a feeling it's about Riley and her friends being bored by Mr. Matthews' class.

"Listen, dad, you're doing a wonderful job up there and we're very happy that you're all jazzed up," Riley starts.

"But history has nothing to do with us," Maya finishes. 

This makes Mr. Matthews frustrated. "I'm gonna snap this chalk now." He holds up a chalk, snapping it moments later.

Great, as it turns out now we have to make a project about our great-grandparents who lived in the 1960s.

Although I'm a very fair person and I always do what I'm supposed to do, even if no one in this class ever checks my or Missy's work, probably for the first time I contemplate ignoring the assignment completely.

"But how are we even supposed to do this one?" Missy asks me. "I mean asking father would be-"

"Yeah, I know- the worst idea we could ever come up with," I interrupt her. The history of our family is really not something I'd like to discuss with our father. Along with many other subjects.

"Maybe we could give it a try, look around a house for a bit when nobody's there. Who knows, maybe we'll find something that will help us get something done?" Missy suggests.

"I guess you're right."

At home

As we search through empty and never-used rooms in our house, as quiet as possible, careful not to leave any mess behind, although nobody goes there anyway, so I doubt it matters, we find a bunch of stuff we have never come across. There are some paintings signed by Melissa Reyes and one really old-looking diary.

From what we heard from our mom, Melissa Reyes was her grandma, thus our great-grandmother. If I recall correctly, she was an artist, so that explains the whole thing. But I don't think I have seen that diary in my life. The handwriting in it is not the same one the name Melissa Reyes is written by.

The paintings appear to be very poetic and all of them should be considered masterpieces. They depict various landscapes as well as people. As Missy looks through them, she points out one which caught her attention. It is a really sad one. It pictures a big fire which swallows up one whole building, turning it to ashes. Some people are standing close by, faces covered with ashes as well, crying, probably for the ones who stayed trapped inside.

But right now, I'm intrigued by the diary the most. I open it on the first page. Name Veronica Reyes is written there. I start reading. This girl, Veronica, has started writing this diary when she was just eight years old and many things are covered here including her twin sister Melissa. By now I know that she was my great-grandma's twin sister, they had the same last name, and the girl she described was also an artist. I wonder why mom never talked about Veronica. Reading the diary, I find out their lives were very similar to ours now, even if they lived in a different time period.