Who Never Had Dreams When We Were Young?

Part 4

The aroma of freshly-cooked instant noodles wafted into my nose. I turned off the gas stove and stirred the pot of noodles and soup with a ladle. White swirls of steam rose up and dissipated in the warm night air.

"Can I have some of that?" Rachel looked at me with pleading eyes.

"This is food for living people like me," I said. "Go to the shrine nearby and eat the offerings there."

"Not fair." She crossed her arms. "I don't believe that I'm dead, so that means I'm still a living person."

"You are one weird ghost." I set the pot on the folding table and brought two bowls out from the kitchen cabinet. "Eat quickly. I want to sleep soon."

She happily took the ladle and scooped some of the noddles and soup into the bowl. I poured the remaining contents into my bowl and slurped the noodles with a pair of disposable chopsticks.

"Did you really lose all your memories?" I asked. "You should at least remember how you died, right?"

She shook her head. There was a look of hesitation in her eyes. "But I remember her voice..."

"Who?"

"The nice lady on the radio." She shrugged her shoulders. "She talked about the importance of chasing one's dream in life." Her lips curved into a smile. "Say, do you have your own personal dream too?"

I looked down at my bowl of noodles. "No."

"Does that dream have anything to do with the stacks of university brochures in your bedroom?"

I nearly choked on the mouthful of noodles that I was chewing. "Who told you that you can enter my bedroom?"

"Well...me, myself and I." She giggled loudly and childishly. She tapped my hand gently. "Tell me, why do you want to go to university even though you're already twenty-five years old? Isn't that a bit too late?"

I finished my bowl of noodles and stood up. "I'm going to sleep now. Wash up after you're done eating."

"That's not fair!" She pouted. "And you still haven't answered me. Hey!"

"I'm letting you stay in my house for now, so you better be grateful." I entered my bedroom and shut the door behind me.

I flicked the light switch. A fluorescent lamp on the ceiling flickered to life, flooding the tiny cramped room with a dim, unsteady glow. I glanced at the laminated photograph pasted on the wall. 

To her, it may seem like a typical average class photo taken with my buddies on graduation day. But to me, it is the sole reason why I haven't given up on the dream even when reality forced me to give up.  

Why I haven't given up on our dream.