Chapter Thirteen

I had a short dream. I was standing in front my old school, early in the morning. I thought I was alone as I walked into the building, but when I turned back, I saw Dawn. It wasn’t the person that hurt me, but Dawn before she met me. It was the Dawn I missed seeing. She had her makeup on, showing off her light skin with the lightest amount of blush, so subtle that only the ones who told her ‘I love you’ would notice. Her hair was shiny and its natural black color, long before she dyed it. Her eyes were narrow, but not out of anger. Her lips were a shade darker than usual, completing the face I still envied for. For some reason, I thought about calling her over. There was no reason to do so. And yet I felt compelled to talk to her about anything. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I tried lifting my arm, but it stuck to me. I tried walking but my legs were statues. All I could do was watch and admire her, hoping she’d look back at me.

I awoke before I could do anything else. The room was cold, and so was I. I sat up and looked around. Nina was still asleep, but I didn’t know what time it was. I stood up and tried to walk. I remembered my body stretching itself when it was disconnected from me, so I tried to do the same. I did the stretches I remember doing in my gym class, as well as the ones on TV. I shook around my limbs and made sure every part of me moved, even if it was just a little wiggle. When I was done, I felt more strength now than all that I felt yesterday combined. I still couldn’t move as fast as I did, but I knew I could move for a longer period.

I walked around the room, looking at the shelves and all their contents. The books in them were a mixture of high-level science, mathematics, and biology texts. They were the types of tomes that I imagined were lugged around by college students, large and intimidating. I picked out one of the biology books and leafed through it. The diagrams and words instilled the anxiety that awaited me had I managed to go to college. I had an unsure smile on my face, knowing that these books would never be a requirement for me.

I put it back and picked up a few of the papers lying around. They were handwritten, a jumbled mess of words, letters, and numbers. They looked like the scribbles of a five-year-old, learning to write for the first time. I looked over at Nina’s door and smiled. I placed it down and walked towards the sink. I didn’t think I needed to brush my teeth anymore. After all, is proper dental hygiene good on a zombie? I stopped when I said those words to myself. Despite my experiences yesterday, I never referred to myself a zombie. I saw what I looked like in the broken mirror. I could hear the slow, incomplete thoughts I said to Nina. I remember what I looked like separated from my body. And yet, there was something that stopped me from saying that about myself.

I saw a sparkle to the right of me, that reminded me of the mirror I saw yesterday. Without thinking, I turned away. But before I could figure out what happened, I noticed a bright blue book in the shelf next to me. It was hidden in between two textbooks about human anatomy and the biology of various mammals. My heart skipped a beat as I read the words on the book’s spine.

“The Things We Love,” I whispered, my mouth moving on its own. I pulled it out of the shelf and looked at the cover. The cover had three pictures in three circles, each one depicting a person enjoying a different activity. It was a children’s book I read a lot when I was a kid. I found it near a trash can a long time ago. I had to hide it from my parents because they would never let me have anything like that. They would buy me anything I asked, so long as it would help me get ahead in school, and a children’s book with this subject wasn’t going to do that.

I flipped through the pages, smiling at the photos of people who now looked like old friends. There was the old woman who loved to paint, the young man who ran every morning because he loved how the cool air would wake him up.

“Carrie, Age 6, loves riding…her bike,” I said out loud before turning the page. “And, next page, Al, Age 44, loves driving cars.” I put the book down, unable to stop smiling. “Same as back then.” It felt strange to think about that time. It was only 12 years ago, and yet those thoughts brought with them the same warmth I felt with Nina. I didn’t think I was old enough to experience those feelings, but I’ve also had many things happen to me that others will never experience. I turned back to the book and skipped ahead to near the end of the book. There were three entries in the book that I loved above all others. Every time I read the book back home, I would read through the other pages, getting excited about what awaited me at the end. I started at the left corner and read them one by one.

“Sophie, Age 18, loves her flowers. Gregory, Age 22, loves cooking meals. And Cynthia and her friends, love the beach!” I spoke every word the exact same way I did as a kid, as best as I could. They were the things I wanted to do the most. I wanted to walk into my home, covered in dirt from all the planting and growing. I wanted to wear an apron and chef’s hat while I ran through the kitchen making sure nothing burned. And I wanted to feel the breeze of the ocean and hear its call as I lay in the sand and felt the sun on my skin, willing to risk a tan for it. But they were the things I knew I could never do, the things that felt out of reach, the things that were never meant for me.