Story

One Thousand


I keep having this dream, it’s a rather peculiar dream.

How about I tell you about it.

I am on my way home from dinner with a very nice boy, he is tall and very beautiful, yet the second I saw him that night I knew it would never be. I knew that I would never love that man, and though I knew such a brutal truth so soon, I decided to chance dinner with this fine man, we talk, and laugh, it is a lovely night.

As we approach my apartment on a very busy street in a very busy city, on a very busy night he turned to me and said this:

My dear Veronika, I know you will never love me, believe me I’ve tried to make you love me many times in this life, I always fail. You like me, and you will always be there for me when I need you, you will never love me. Now this may not make sense, but I am here right now because you need me, not right this moment, but things are changing, and you will become an important person in our future.”

I gawk at this beautiful man, and I don’t understand why, but I feel his sincerity. Deep within my soul I know that he is telling me the truth. 

What is your name?” I ask, the curiosity getting the better of me.

The man smiled a smile that made me feel as though I’d lived one thousand lives with him. 

“Well now, you’ve gone an forgotten my name?” he jumped in front of me on the very busy sidewalk, disregarding the very busy people, bowed before me and said,

The names Beval”

and of course that is the very moment I awake every night I have this dream. Somewhere inside my soul I feel that Beval is real, that he is searching for me and finding me in my dreams instead of on this land. This means I must go and find him, I believe he is real. 


This is a work of fiction, and nothing more.

I once knew a boy, he was never anything special really. No one ever talked about him, no one picked on him, but no one ever really knew him either.

A quiet kid.

I wouldn’t even say he was a sad kid.

But of course this I don’t know, being that I don’t know him. I didn’t know him, but notice him, yeah I did that. He had this way about him that was always making me watch him. Like I said, nothing special, but something elegant. As if there was a story to tell, but he was too young to tell it, or we were too young to listen.

Come to think about it maybe his silence was all he had, maybe he thought if he was quiet someone would ask him something. But we never did, instead he played alone on the playground, sat alone at lunch, walked home with no one. 

Eventually we grew up, he met people that I guess he felt he fit in with. I still noticed him, every day, we even talked a few times come middle school and high school. Not friends, but we spent some time together.

I remember one random day I asked that boy to walk home with me. I only did it because I knew we walked the same route, so why the hell not. We didn’t go home though, instead to this little pond no one ever went to. He was pleasantly surprised I knew the place, I remember because it was the first time I’d ever seen him smile. He had a pretty smile.

We sat on a log, and put our feet in the warm water. He talked to me about music, and the world. He talked to me about the beauty in nothing, and the ugly in everything else. I didn’t say a whole lot, he did enough talking for the both of us. 

He told me he wasn’t a good person, he told me he’d done bad things.

At that moment I guess I should have been scared, I should have told him I had to be home before my parents started to worry. Instead all I could do was sit there with him, and listen to him tell me about the life no one ever asked about.

This boy, he doesn’t want to live anymore, says he’s done too much bad to ever get anything good. I looked at him, and suddenly the boy no one ever noticed seemed like the only thing in this whole damn world. 

I told him he could change.

He said he’d given up.

I remember then there was this rage that emerged in my chest, I wanted to scream at him. 

I wanted to tell him that even if he didn’t believe that he wouldn’t see good in this life, leaving this life wouldn’t be any better. That killing himself eliminates any chance he could ever have of redeeming himself. I wanted to tell him this was only a moment of weakness.

This boy I didn’t even know.

The Gift of a Lifetime


You know that quote from Juno “Thanks a heap coyote ugly. This cactus gram stings worse than your abandonment.”? Well I’m trying to relate that quote to this plate.

Today at about 10 AM I was walking around my house and I groggily stumbled into my kitchen to make some coffee, instead I was distracted by the sound of knocking on my door (our doorbell doesn’t work and we live upstairs so sometimes we don’t always hear people). So I venture on downstairs and I’m greeted by our lovely mailman (whose name I do not know because that was the first time I’d ever met him) under his arm was a package, I instantly knew what it was and was filled with excitement, I signed the paper and thanked the mailman before running upstairs and tearing the box open.

You may be thinking: “A package, big deal. What’s with all the excitement?” Well, my dad is in the Army, and he left sometime last week, he said he was sending a package and we’d just been waiting and waiting for it to come.

Inside were two boxes (both labeled to one of my brothers), toy cars scattered around the box (for my other brother), on postcard (for my sister) and two postcards and the plate wrapped in paper, for me.

I started collecting postcards ever since I went to Cleveland with my high school band my Freshman year and thought it would be cool to have post cards of everywhere I went and places I’d like to go. So those were awesome to see, one had the same picture on it that the plate does, and the other one had a picture of the Castle that was used in the Cinderella movie. I was thrilled to see these and made a mental note to add these to my places I’d like to go someday.

Then there’s that plate, it’s interesting, and I like the picture, but what on Earth is it for? It’s about the size of my palm, and glass, obviously, so what do I do with it? Do I just put it somewhere as a souvenir? Can I use it as a Frisbee? Can I shoot it with a gun? I’m just not sure what I do in this situation.

But anyways, it was nice, but now I just don’t know what to do with it. By the way, does anyone have any ideas what I could do with all the post cards I’ve collected so far?