The Wish From Heaven | ✓

chapter 4 : dawn's wish

I stand dumbfounded, not really believing my eyes.

I steadily look at the white curtain, not making out any silhouette that would confirm the presence of a person on the other side. I abruptly remember from my dream/framed reality that this guy wasn't a person to start with. I don't even know what the name of his existence is. An angel? A ghost? Or worse, a human with psychic abilities?

I carefully walk over to the other side of the washroom, sliding the curtain open. Much to my disbelief, he is still there, sitting in the tub, his body hidden from below his neck under the white foam of soap. He looks up at me in horrified dismay.

"What in the—? Is there nothing called privacy in this household?" he asks, in a painfully bad British accent. "And you thought I was the one who masturbated on your bed." He shakes his head disapprovingly. I crouch down beside the tub, blinking my eyes several times, almost sure that the next time I open them, he will be gone from there. But he remains.

"You— you are real," I announce.

"Huh?" He looks offended. "Why, of course I'm real! How can you ask that again? I thought you believed me yesterday. Do I have to go through the entire process again? Oh God, pain and nothing but pain."

I raise my hand and put it on his face, which makes him let out a sound like 'Hup!' and then draw back. I never really noticed how long my fingers are until now, as they almost covered the entire length of his face, which is not very small at all. My fingers look like sausages. Or something worse than that.

"Dude," he only says, his tone exhausted. Wait, did he read my sausage thought?

I take a deep breath to ease down my running heart, and it abides, now overwhelmed by a strong emotion that gathers tears in my eyes. I am embarrassed at this amount of happiness, but I can't help it. So it is real, then? This boring world of ours, really has its own shocking truths; the kind of truths you might be lucky enough to be a part of, but not lucky enough to be able to share with everyone. It will be a truth only few people in this world are aware of, and all of them- all of us, will keep it a secret to our graves.

This is unbelievable.

"You're smiling," he says.

"What?"

"You are smiling, Mr. Sad."

And I discover that indeed I am. My facial muscles slightly ache, as they have gotten used to the stern and neutral face that I adopted when my only reason of smiling was snatched away from me.

Everything this boy here said, is hopefully true. If so, then Dawn has sent him to me, for me. He has talked with Dawn directly. I don't know; how can all this be real? Maybe that question doesn't really matter. All of this is real, and I finally believe it.

"Thank God you finally believe it," he says, making me flinch. It would take me long to get use to this mind reading thing.

'I...yeah, I guess I do." But do I? Not fully, I suppose. Not yet. I need to observe more. I need to confirm that all of this isn't just a very realistic imagination that I've drowned myself into as a coping mechanism.

"Don't worry, give it a few days. You will see how real I am," he says this without looking at me. "And," he adds, now turning to me, "if you don't leave me be within five seconds, I will quickly stand up, and my jingle-bell will hang right in front of your face. 1...2..."

"Disgusting!" I scream, sliding the curtain close and standing up.

"Hey, I'm not the one who peeked while a guy was bathing. Besides, you have a jingle-bell too, so don't pretend to be disgusted."