The Dreamer's Lover

Unwanted

There were so many things I never liked upon entering the halls of this sinister-looking building. The place was too dark even from the outside at midday. Broken glass from the jalousie window was scattered throughout the front yard of the building. It looked like a haunted mental asylum from the movies Gavin made me watch. As if the outside was not eerie enough, the inside terrified me the most. The moment I set foot at the top of the stairs, I immediately felt cold stares darting towards me. I was led towards the main office when kids rushed towards the doorway to glare at me, to see how another unwanted human being was instead trapped inside the eerie place.

There hasn't a day that I admitted to enjoying my stay here since my arrival in the world of bullying, loneliness, and just pure sadness. I loathed living here. The other kids were the worst human beings I have ever met. One day during lunch, I was sitting alone at a huge table in a quiet dining hall. I thought I was lucky enough to be called to a "special meeting" by one of the boys, only to be thrown out of the house and be pushed around until I fell in a muddy puddle. As if none of it were enough, they had soaked my meal in water. What a great way to enjoy lunch when everyone has their own fair share of crispy fried chicken and not a soggy fried chicken soup.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't alone. Jira got beaten in the common restroom after school when she failed to get what Angel wanted. Ironically, Angel was never an angel to start with. There was also Finn, who had officially become an errand boy for the bullies. Lucky for him, he gets to be protected but at the same time abused by these "alpha boys". The thing I hated about this particular foster house was that no one was safe from each other. The officials never cared, and if not the bullies, they would a***e the kids. A perfect stereotype of an orphanage. I was glad I got away from that when I was old enough not to be considered a child.

Physical bullying wasn't a thing at school because it was scary to meet the counselor, who was never any better than the bullies. However, they found other ways to offend and annoy me. They called me various names as they mocked how I walked, talked, or even sat. The teachers never really minded this bickering. They'd smile at you when you tell them what happened and say, "Oh kids, nowadays. It is just a phase, darling. They'll outgrow on that." But this wasn't an inch true and also that these acts of bullying were the ones that just build up distress.

I wish I could live with a family member - my family, even if it's only for an hour. Like the other kids in foster care, I wish I was sent out to lovely adoptive parents that would provide me with more than the foster care could provide. Yet, here I stared through the uncleaned window, unlucky enough to have been transferred to a far worse foster care. They don't have bullies, but seeing the happy faces of 13 year-olds made me want to walk away.

I was pleased when a couple came one Sunday morning to visit the children and asked for a child to adopt. Rumors had it that they wanted a boy, so Mrs. Harold suggested that they adopt me instead. However, adoption is and will always be hard to make and a complicated process to go into. It wasn't as easy as signing papers. As a newlywed couple, they needed to attend seminars weekly, if not daily, monitoring what was happening between the parent and the adoptive child. So a week later, the couple came and canceled the adoption process because it was becoming too much for them.

So, I lost hope of this whole family thing.

I remember how I was transferred to another foster care at 13. Mrs. Harold, the head of the foster house, called me into her office on Wednesday. I was hoping she would welcome me into the family's home life. Still, the news was even worse or probably a better one than the canceled adoption papers. She only stared at me while smiling brightly before dropping the information I never wanted to hear.

"Ijo, you are having your 13th birthday soon. You should be happy, okay? However, this is a children's orphanage and upholds the rule that it should only accept children below 13. Teenagers like you need to be transferred to another foster care." She had the nerve to tell me to be happy and drop something that made me realize that I was always unwanted.

I never knew how to react, so the whole day felt empty and exhausted. It was like another death all over again. For the first time, I felt like I didn't want to leave, and at the same time, I wanted to be deserted from this happy place I don't belong. This time, I had an outlet. I wrote everything, from frustrations to sadness and longing, instead of packing for the transfer. As I was dozing off, I noticed the fleur-de-lis pendant of Lola's necklace glowed. It was a glow that soothed me to sleep.

I had a dream. I saw Lola standing by a vast and sparkling lake - the Lake of Souls, as people may call it. I call it a sparkling lake. She wore her favorite dress I bought for her just before she died. It flowed with the wind as her eyes lit up when she met my gaze.

"LOLA!" I called and ran towards her to pull her into a tight hug. She whispered, "I LOVE YOU," as tears filled up my eyes. My sobs sounded like whimpers. How I missed her. She slowly reached her hands towards the glowing necklace around my neck and smiled.

"Levi, dear. Life is hard, and it never gets easier, but remember, little things can make you happy as long as you're humble and kind-hearted. This necklace is a legacy from my mother and to generations back." I smiled and then asked the most innocent question, "Why?"

"This necklace is proof that happiness can exist in unreal, bizarre things. However, remember, my dear, that you can control your own future or any fate you have." She hugged me for the last time and bid her goodbye. That was the last time I saw her old, fragile but strong face.

The following day, I woke up crying. It was my birthday, but it was also the first year that marked my grandmother's death. Then, I was moved to another house that day, but all I could think of was how my life was shattered into pieces of glass from the broken jalousie when I first came in.

All the years after that, there has been a series of "transferred and canceled adoptions". No one wanted a poor boy, heavily bothered by other kids, whose work was to till the garden, plant flowers, and write crazily stupid poems. My life became an epitome of repudiated living.

However, my life has turned out to be different. I could still hear Lola uttering her last words in my dreams. "You can control..." Yes, I did have the ability to control not my reality, though, but my dreams. I could control who I am and be in my dreams, which made me happy. I owned a company there - a publishing company I happily called the Luciditiy Books and Co. I was walking money, per se. I became a billionaire reasonably quickly.

"Good Morning Mr. Kepler."

"Good day Sir Levi."

"You look stunning today, Mr. Kepler."

"You always look good in any outfit sir."

Girls would come to me and please me as I wipe out tears with money. I was never a poor boy there. But the only thing was that everything is a dream. If only I could escape reality and start living my own dream. If only.