The Wish From Heaven | ✓

chapter 3 : clashing realities

But somewhere inside me I know, that to believe in the clashing realities is to believe that these will connect me to Dawn in a new way. The connection that stopped along with the beating of his heart, will be reunited again through the boy my mother cannot see. And if Dawn exists with me in a reality that doesn't exist, or in a reality that I never knew existed, then I'm ready to believe in it, to be in it.

Because if I am in it, maybe I will finally get to know why he did it. I will know, why my best friend - the one I have spent 17 years with but only seen in tears a total of 4 times, the one who dreamed of creating a hopeful future and living in it with me, the one who loved everyone with open arms and was loved the same, the one who smiled seeing a stranger smile, the one whose outstretched wings flapped to spread joy - had to take the hardest decision of ending his own life, without even leaving an explanation.

Should I be happy? Should I be ecstatic? Should I be grateful to God, and to the world I was ignorant to up until now?

I don't know.

All I know, is that it is all making my head ache a lot more, and turning my legs wobbly and unstable. I don't think I can feel the floor anymore. Everything is slowing down. Maybe it is because I skipped lunch at school today, or it is because of all the supposedly truths thrust upon me within a few minutes, or it is because of the way my mother talked about a dead person.

Maybe, maybe. Maybe I'm not really falling down into a sea of darkness. I'm not really hearing my mom call my name in a tone she never has. It is probably all a reality that existed beneath mine, a beautiful and hopeful reality. That's right. What I was feeling back then, the strong feeling slowly blooming within the barren land of my heart, was hope. Raw, naked hope.

Maybe, I am drowning. And at the darkest bottom, maybe I will find him.

Maybe I will find a reason to be strong again.

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10 July; Wednesay

I wake up on a wet pillow.

Blinking my vision clear, which willed to remain closed, I sit up. Did I faint earlier? I guess so. Fresh morning sunlight pours in through the window beside my bed, making my brown skin look almost golden. When I look out the window, the first thing I notice is the second floor window of the house across our's. I look up higher, at the pure blue sky which holds no clouds right now. But wasn't it filled with clouds when I came back from the graveyard earlier? How come it cleared up that fast?

Confused, I look at the wall-clock over my bed, my heart skipping a beat when I see it ticking six and on. I came back back home at three in the afternoon, so I might've accidentally slept for three hours, but is it supposed to be that sunny at six in the evening?

Thinking that perhaps the clock wasn't working, I check the time on my phone, reading exactly the same. And then I notice the date above it, and almost scream out of shock, as it shows Wednesday.

I came back home on Tuesday.

I have lost an entire day?

I count the hours. If I fell asleep at three o'clock, and woke up at six, then I slept a total of . . . fifteen hours-that's three hours more than the day of the funeral.

Back then was understandable. Even my disappointed parents knew the pain of loss, so they might have let me sleep until I heal, but today? How could my mother, who is more obsessed over my studies than me, let me sleep for over half a day, despite knowing that my exams start next week? Not to mention all the studies I missed? I didn't even do my homework.

I abruptly remember about the stranger in my room from yesterday. Belatedly, I look around the room, finding it as empty as it always is. Shamefully, my heart sinks.

That was all a dream, I suppose. I have slept for so many hours, surely I saw a lot of long and absurd dreams. And yet, in a little corner of my heart, for a moment that lasted as long as a heartbeat, I hoped for him to be real.

I wishfully hoped for there to be a person who existed only for me, who was visible only to my eyes, and who had directly talked to Dawn after his death. It is embarrassing to myself - how childish such wishes are, how disconnected from reality. I'm not a child of nine, but nearing my adulthood at seventeen. Dawn is gone, and there is no one to fulfill his wish, given that he ever made one.

And yet, I feel dizziness, and I feel confusion about something I can't remember. In a hazy corner of my mind, the world splits into two, and once again, I am lost for what to believe and what to not. The feeling of being lost inside your own mind is terrifying, so I shake my head, then hit it twice, tell myself some strong words of distraction, and get out of the bed.

The sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. The hollowed pain in my chest. The stinging in my eyes. Everything is feeling so much more distinct today.

Sighing, I head to the washroom. Needless to say, I stink.

I go and stand in front of the mirror over the basin. The mirror comes a little over my eye-level. In it, I see a reflection of the me who looks distraught, devastated, sleep deprived despite the sixteen lost hours, and extremely depressed, and so many other words that might start with D.

The whites of my eyes are red, not matching the brown eyeballs, reminding me of the color of dead leaves. Aside from my swollen eyes, my hair, which Dawn liked to describe as the color of almonds because he loved them, is sticking out in all directions, completely messed up. A part of my face has weird lines imprinted, probably from the folds of the pillow cover against which my cheek was pressed for such a long time. My lips are dry and chapped. Overall, I look like a hopeless vagabond.

Sighing once again, I reach for my toothbrush, which drops from my hand the moment I hear the sound of a gasp.

I whirl around to the direction of the source, my heartbeat actually stopping for half a second at the sight of a familiar face on the bathtub.

"Pfft, I'm naked here, pervert!" he says, and shuts the shower curtain close.

I really must be going crazy.

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Hello lovely readers! How are you today?

Hope you all are doing well! This is actually a version two of the chapter (and so was chapter 2) because the original one felt quite cringey and lame to me lmao. Like the conversations and stuffs? So I rewrote almost everything. So I really hope it isn't as cringy.

I'm still worried whether the first few chapters are very slow and boring or not. It does get better with time, but since the begining chapters are what will hook the readers, so I will have to make them the best. Please let me know what I can add or deduct to make these chapters better. I will be really grateful if you do! 💕

What do you think about the religious aspects? Did Cedar's shock and denial come across realistically? Let me know if there are things I should change/improve :)

Anyways, thanks a lot for reading! Stay healthy and safe :)

- love, Poma.