A Thousand Miles

What are dreams?

Are they just images that our brain creates to pass time, seeing as it can't order our body around? Or is it an inevitable need to escape reality, even if for just a few moments that we might not even remember in the morning?

I'm not sure which of the two, neither have I ever cared enough to find out. Because to me, they are just images - bizarre ones, but still images. But I would lie if I said I wasn't curious.

A few months back, I couldn't care less about what my dreams meant. But now, the images my brain projected almost on the daily meant something more to me.

Before the accident happened, my dreams comprised something silly, like flying through the air, as free as a bird. They were about me following my passion for music and becoming a world-known star. I considered those to be normal and every once in a while, after rousing, I could remember them. But usually, as soon as my eyes fluttered open, the dream faded with the act of sleeping itself, and all that was left of it, was an inkling.

However, after the accident, things changed.

At first, I didn't notice, nor paid much attention to it. The doctors told me I might experience sudden flashbacks as my mind will try to repair itself. Recollections of my friends, my family, the time I first tried to play the piano, it all came back to me. But amidst those, there was one dream in specific, that couldn't find its place in my memories. Therefore, I thought it was just one of those dreams people had, the one that didn't make sense.

But as time went by, I kept having it over and over again. It was always the same one. No matter how many times it reoccurred, nothing changed. Each time, I could see a yellow and blue bike. I felt the pain as I sat on the ground with a scraped knee, crying my eyes out. Before you judge me, I couldn't be more than six years old. It wasn't bleeding too much, so I think the impact itself was the part that scared me and made little me distressed.

Aside from the minor injury, the day was a beautiful one. It must have been at the start of summer because outside was warm, but not too hot yet. The sun was shining brightly as if trying to dry the tears that kept rolling down my plump cheeks. The birds were tweeting as they kept flying back and forth, landing on the most appealing of branches.

There weren't many clouds up in the sky, just a few scattered here and there, and it looked like one from a cartoon or a picture book. Blue sky, not disturbed by any gloomy clouds hinting at an incoming storm. Sun high in the sky, lighting up the world beneath. White puffy clouds, like sheep running across the blue as if chased by the wind. If it weren't for the loud cries emitting from my mouth, the day would have been perfect.

Suddenly, I felt myself look up. I haven't really paid attention to the two bikes at first, the thought of it not making sense, hence I was by myself, so it didn't click at first. But once I heard their voice, I looked up to realize there was another child, probably the same age as me, stepping down from their yellow bicycle and making their way towards me.

Though they called for my attention, probably worried if I was alright, it was as if they were underwater. Their voice was muffled and so I couldn't distinguish it. When I looked up to meet the eyes of the child, my eyes failed to focus. Not only did I not hear them, but I also had trouble seeing them. Yet everything else was fine. I could hear the rustling of the leaves and I could see my driveway only a few feet away. There was nothing to show something was wrong with me, nothing but the child standing in front of me.

It might sound scary at first, but throughout the dream, I felt calm. I felt safe. And I wasn't worried in the slightest.

The other child bent down in front of me as it pulled something out of its pocket and begun speaking again. But still I couldn't decipher a single word leaving its mouth. My younger self seemed to though as I found myself sniffling and nodding my head slightly.

Soon enough, its little arms reached forward to my injury, and I saw its little fingers working on the yellow bandaid as it was laid across my wound. It spoke again, and I lifted my head up to meet the eyes of my knight in shining armor, only to be met with a blur. But somehow, I could tell it was smiling, and this time, my cries died down and I smiled too.

That was when my dream ended, with a smile at the person who was my savior.

Each time I woke up after, I felt odd. There was a strange feeling in my chest I couldn't quite place my finger on. Usually, when I woke up from a dream I ended up remembering, I would feel some way. But other than the feeling in my chest, there was nothing. I didn't feel happy, nor did I feel sad. It was as if I was hit in the face with the softest pillow. You knew the impact was there, but you failed to feel it. The only thing I was sure of was that it was familiar.

It wasn't just a dream. It wasn't just a projection of my imagination, nor a series of images. It was different. I wasn't sure how I knew, I just did. But after the first time, I brushed it off. Despite knowing it was different, I didn't want to deal with it and so I let myself forget.

But as the dream kept replaying every once in a while, I was sure there was more to it. I didn't know whether it was a memory because, in those, I could see the people surrounding me, hear them, and in this one, I failed to. I didn't know what it meant or who the person was, but a feeling in my gut told me it was more than just your ordinary dream, that perhaps it was a memory like every other. The only difference being that this one was locked away in the depths of my mind.

As days passed and I kept having the same dream, I grew even more curious. I tried asking my mother if there was a friend I used to have when I was younger, only to get the same answer each time, "The only one you used to hang out with, was Allison". She said I wasn't a social kid and used to be even timider than now, so I preferred the company of my older sister.

I tried going down the street to the exact spot the dream took place at, but not even that seemed to kick-start my memory. I even pulled out the blue bike from the depths of the garage where it was buried under tons of junk, but not even that did anything. I was lost and running out of options.

It sounded silly, even to me, that I was chasing after something I did not know of, something I couldn't be even sure of was real. But I knew I felt it. It was real. And I was adamant about finding out.

But as days turned into weeks, I stopped. There was no progress. The dream was always the same one, and I was running out of ideas. And seeing it was always the one with the bikes, I thought - maybe it was just a onetime thing. Maybe I only met this person once, and it wasn't a significant memory at all, that's why everything about them was a blur. Maybe they weren't important.

I tried to make myself believe it, to ease the feeling that seemed to grow with each night I dreamt of it, and at some point, I think I did. But deep down I knew there was more behind it, and I was lost in figuring it out.

So when I was woken up by my mother's voice calling me, I sighed.

"Roseanne, time to wake up!"

It was the same thing again. Same bikes, same weather, same person, and the same haze of mystery clouding my mind. I was no longer phased. I couldn't be.

Today was a fresh day, a new me, and I had to focus on that. On things that were more important than some silly dreams. And so, shaking my head, hoping to shake off the feeling the dream left behind, I swung my feet off the bed and made my way to the bathroom.

New year, new me, I thought to myself as I looked at my reflection looking back at me through the mirror. Though it was just the new school year, it was the last one and that meant an impressive deal to me. I wanted this year to be different; I wanted to be different. And this was the ideal time to start, to go back to how things used to be.

But by new me, I didn't mean the mess of a girl I was looking at through the mirror. I looked horrendous. My blonde hair was a mess that suggested a bird's nest more than anything else. There was sleep in my eyes, that were barely opened as if my lids got glued together while I slept and you could barely make out the honey brown irises hiding behind them. Oh, and the slight trace of drool in the corner of my lips was truly the cherry on top.

Not wanting anyone to see me in such a state, I quickly shed my pajamas and stepped under the hot stream of the shower. I made quick work of washing my body and my hair before stepping out and shivering as my heated skin was met with the colder temperature residing inside the bathroom.

Drying off the droplets of water trickling down my body and wrapping the towel around my form, I finished my morning, and once I looked like an actual human being; I left the bathroom.

As soon as I entered my room, my eyes landed on the alarm - the bright red digits displaying I was supposed to be starting eating breakfast if I wanted to make it in time. However, here I was, standing in the middle of the room, no clothes on, no makeup on, and definitely far from ready.

How embarrassing would it be to be late on my first day? With that thought in mind, I quickly rummaged through my closet, throwing on the first articles of clothing I found and praying to God they would at least somewhat match. I wasn't one to put too much makeup on and seeing as I didn't have time for it today; I applied mascara as fast as I could and grabbed one of my lip glosses, deciding I'd apply it on the way to school.

Quickly grabbing my backpack, I ran down the stairs - almost tripping on the way, and as soon as I entered the kitchen, I noticed my mother's disapproving look. Murmuring good morning, her scolding look turned into a disbelieving smile as she shook her head at me but said nothing. Sitting down behind the kitchen table, I put some freshly made pancakes on my plate and wasted not a second in digging in, seeing as I only had five minutes left before I'd have to go to Ruby and Emma's place.

"You're so big now, Roseanne," my mother sighed, and I groaned, recognizing this speech all too well. It was the one she didn't fail to deliver each new school year about how much I changed and what a beautiful lady I've become.

"What?" she chuckled at my obvious annoyance, "I'm just happy to see my baby so grown up,"

"You do this every year mom," I chuckled, "surely I'm not all that different. Besides, you've been saying how grown up I am since I was like what, twelve?"

"You'll understand one day when you have kids of your own," she remarked, and I rolled my eyes in good nature, used to those words, "no more talking, finish your breakfast or the girls will leave without you,"

I didn't have to be told twice, as I happily obliged and cut another piece of the pancake up and placed it in my mouth. In the hurry I was, I didn't even notice how hungry I've been, and so the piled up pancakes, that were before me just moments ago, were gone in a matter of seconds.

"Thanks for breakfast!" I called as I was already running towards the door, ready to dash out into the crisp air of the morning.

"Not so fast, young lady," my mother's voice stopped me in my tracks and I turned around with a tortured expression, "You didn't think I'd forget, did you?" I was really hoping she would forget.

With another sigh, I walked closer, as she already held her phone in front of her face, "Say cheese!" she ordered and I smiled into the camera before the shutter was heard and I made a run for the door, not leaving another moment for my mother to say the picture was blurry and needed to take one again.

It was an annual ritual. Her saying how grown up I was and taking a picture on the first day, and quite frankly, it was nice when I was a little girl. However, now it just made me cringe on the inside when I was reminded I have become older. Besides, I hated taking pictures. I used to be okay with it, even enjoyed it before, but this year I was adamant about not taking one. But seeing how excited my mother appeared, I didn't want to mention the thing that would bring both of us down.

As soon as I was out the door, I was met with the chilly air of the early morning, and if it weren't for the fact it was the school I was headed to, it would appear liberating. And although going to school was something inevitable, I tried to enjoy the few minutes I had left before stepping inside the facility.

The sun has just risen and with it did the flowers that have woken up from their sleep, standing proudly in the gardens of our neighbors. The birds were chirping happily as they flew past me, not bothered in the slightest by the world beneath their wings. And the quiet, oh the quiet, probably the most blissful part of it all.

Seeing how early it was, there wasn't commotion on the streets. There weren't kids playing around or adults rushing into their cars and driving out of their driveways as fast as the speed limit allowed them, probably rushing to a meeting that they would be late to, anyway. No, the only thing you could hear was the gentle breeze, rustling leaves, and maybe distinct chatter from an open window.

It felt peaceful, and I took a minute to appreciate the moment of silence that I would surely miss the second I'd step inside the school bustling with loud students, pushing through each other in a hurry to get to class.

For right now though, this was my peace, and I tried to engrave the calm into my mind as if trying to create a room in my head to which I could escape to when things got too loud and overwhelming. Because no matter what today would bring, for me especially, this day would be a lot.

It was nice living in a small town. You practically knew everyone, and you felt safe in the community you got to grow up in. However, there was a major downfall that I didn't realize until things in my life started going south. In a small town such as Georgetown, word spread fast. And hence everyone seemed to know everyone, whatever happened in your life, was public knowledge.

I realized it to be such when my father passed last year, followed by my sister a few months after. Everyone seemed to know more than I did, and everyone felt like they had a say in it. In the way, I coped, in the way my mother did. And everyone looked at me with those pitying looks. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I didn't appreciate their condolences, but it hurt as it was, I didn't need everyone to remind me wherever I went.

And so it was to be expected that my accident wouldn't go unnoticed, and I appreciated my mother not mentioning it. She knew that I knew how to deal with the stares and the looks. Both of us went through it before, so it's not like it would be unfamiliar territory for me. However, to say I wasn't dreading it would be a lie.

Taking a deep breath in hopes I'd get my body to relax, at least to some extent, I was interrupted mid breath by a yell of my name coming from across the street. And that's when I knew the quietude has ended. But even so, I smiled. Because if my moment of silence had to be interrupted, I didn't want anyone else to do it.

"Rosie!" I recognized Ruby's voice as she yelled, "Are you coming or what?"

With a grin, I opened my eyes and followed the direction from which the voice came. And there they were, Ruby and Emma Cheong already seated in their car, waiting impatiently. Emma was tapping on her watch from the passenger seat, letting me know I should move it, making me laugh at the older girls' antics. But I complied and walked towards the white Mercedes.

Ruby and Emma Cheong moved across the street during the summer. Seeing as I haven't been home the first month of summer break, I only got to meet them recently, yet we grew close during the past two months.

The two girls were both easy-going and never have I felt awkward in their presence, as the conversation seemed to flow naturally between us since the moment we've met. I was thankful for the two as I didn't really have any friends before them.

I quickly learned their parents were Korean, but they were born here, in America. They used to live in New York but moved here. When I asked why did they out of all places chose a boring town such as this one, they said their parents wanted a sense of peace seeing as both were some big shot lawyers and their life became too hectic.

However, the two raven-haired girls didn't seem to mind the change of scenery one bit, they seemed to welcome it if anything and seemed happy here. Not once have I heard either of them complain since I've got to know them or say they missed living in the big apple. I, on the other hand, was jealous and would much rather live in a colossal city, in a cool apartment in Manhattan.

Becoming friends with the two was probably the easiest thing I've ever done. They weren't aware of what has happened in my turbulent life, and so there was no judgment or pity on their side. And since the two were as extroverted and outgoing as they were, they never left me alone since I came home from the hospital.

Me being the shy person I was; I was bashful and, in all honesty, intimidated by the two beautiful Korean siblings. However, they made it impossible not to like them and talk to them. They needed friends, and so did I. So we ended up helping each other out. Of course, as we grew closer, I told them about the things that happened and was relieved to see the two haven't treated me differently. They were exactly the friends I needed, and so I spent practically every day, and night, in their presence.

So now, as we were about to go to school, there was no awkwardness or uncomfortable silence when I entered the car.

"Took you long enough," Ruby groaned as I sat down in the backseat.

"Oh shut it, Cheong," I rolled my eyes with a laugh, and Ruby, who sat in the drives seat, pulled out of the driveway.

"So girls," I smirked knowingly, "you excited for your first day?"

"Are you kidding? Hell yeah-"

"I'm fucking terrified," Emma interjected as she looked past her seat to look at me, her eyes panic-stricken and looking positively terrified. If she wasn't looking absolutely adorable, it would have me worried. But I knew that she would be just fine. Both of them would.

"Don't worry, Em," I reassured the older of the two, "you'll be fine,"

"But I don't know anyone," she argued.

Both of the sisters were outgoing, but Emma was always the more shy one, at least for the first two minutes. It's like she stressed over things and was afraid to talk to people, but once the thing she feared happened, all trace of nerves was gone and a confidence oozing girl replaced the nervous wreck. There was no doubt in my mind she would fit in just fine as soon as she stepped inside the building.

And if it weren't for her personality, that as strange as it was sometimes, was utterly loveable, her looks would get the job done. You see, when you looked like the two siblings - like you're fresh off the runway, there's no way people won't want to befriend you. Especially shallow creatures such as teenagers, for whom looks seemed to be of the utmost importance.

"You know me and Ruby," I reminded her.

"Yeah but Ruby is new too, that doesn't count," she whined.

"Would you relax," Ruby spoke up this time, "we will be fine. Besides, it's not like Rosie knows people," she looked at me through the rearview mirror with an apologetic smile, "no offense,"

"None taken," I laughed mildly, knowing she was right. However, she did slightly sugarcoat. It's not like I didn't know people, I did, I just didn't have any friends aside from the two siblings now arguing in the front seat like a bunch of ten-year-olds.

"Will you be okay?" Ruby asked suddenly as the banter between her and Emma died down.

Both girls were looking at me worriedly from the rearview mirror, and I knew exactly what they meant. I appreciated their concern even though they knew there was not much they could do, even if my answer would be a 'no'. It was nice to know they cared, and I smiled genuinely as I answered truthfully.

"Yeah, I'll be okay,"

...

The drive wasn't long and sooner than any of us would like; we pushed through student filled hallways as we made way to our class. Unfortunately, Ruby was assigned to a different class than me and Emma, so with an apologetic smile and wishes of good luck, we were forced to part ways, with a promise to find each other after class.

Without further hesitation, Emma and walked inside our designated classroom and leaped for the last two unoccupied desks next to each other. Exchanging relieved smiles as we sat behind our respective desks, we indulged ourselves in small conversation before the teacher walked in, her authoritative demeanor itself, silencing the entire class.

However, she wasn't alone and my eyes fell on the brunette trailing after the not over forty-year-old woman.

I've never seen this girl before. However, it felt strange seeing her. Something about her was just so captivating, I couldn't stop myself from following her every movement with my curious eyes. She was tall, taller than me, and had a straight posture as she walked with confidence. Her bone structure was perfect and from her side profile alone I could tell she was beautiful.

Yet, there was no smile grazing her lips, no sign of nervousness. It was as if she wasn't even a part of what was to happen next. Like she couldn't care less about everything and everyone, and just wanted to get it over it. She looked intimidating and unlike the Cheong siblings, her intimidation didn't come from looks alone. But still, I couldn't help but stare.

"Hello, my name is miss Richards and I'm going to be your homeroom teacher and an English teacher for this year," the teacher spoke, as she stopped in front of the board, and my attention turned to her, not wanting to seem rude.

"There will also be a new student joining us this year," she announced, and I felt myself grow excited, "please welcome your new classmate, Elisabeth Newton,"

That's when the mysterious girl lifted her gaze up, and brown met green, as our eyes connected.