You dream a beautiful dream – of glistening drops of rain water falling as the western sun sets with an orange glow. You dream of flowers the colour of blood and fire, of papa’s laughter and mama’s singing, of your feet immersed in moist earth on a beach somewhere in the city. You dream of those nights when you were younger and papa would read you fantasy stories to sleep. You dream of the dreams you had those nights – of flying unicorns and dancing elves, of angels and fairies, of all things bright and beautiful. You dream of life.
You do not dream of the accident, the blue sedan sending your body rolling across the tarred road, or the pale cream coloured walls of the hospital you now lie in, or the nauseating sickly scent in your ward, or the doctor with the grim look that tells papa that your spine is completely damaged, that you may never walk again, that you’re just a corpse with a beating heart, a dead man that still breathes. You do not dream of mama as she sits by your bed, her face an island of sadness, with rivers flowing down her eyes, and her lips moving frantically, muttering prayers that you cannot hear. Sometimes, you wonder if the damage to your spine affected your ears as well, maybe that is why you cannot hear her, but you can hear papa, and the doctor, and the nurses – the ones that look at you with eyes as empty as the way you feel inside. And other times, you fear that mama’s prayers will not be answered, because God also cannot hear her. You do not dream of any of these things.
Instead, you dream of love, laughter, and life. You dream to live, to feel, to become. You dream because dreams do not have walls, walls that define the boundaries of your freedom, the stretch of your happiness, the amount of love you can give and receive. You dream because in your dreams, you have wings instead of legs, and so you fly, like the unicorns in papa’s stories, covering the length of the endless sky, soaring till your wings tire and you come to rest atop one of the stars. You dream because life itself is a dream, a dream that ends when we die. And so you dream, again and again, and you come alive every time you close your eyes.
Victor Adams Odasi is a budding Nigerian creative writer, student and musician. Fueled by his love for words and storytelling, he dabbles in creative fiction writing, mostly in the romance genre, where he writes sappy happily ever after love stories of crushes and love interests. He hopes that one day, his books will be mentioned in the same breath as those of the writers he admires.
Related country: Nigeria