Now I'm not talking about the dreams that you have to fall asleep for. I mean your destinies, your lives, the thing that will make you the happiest person in the world. Infact, all Harry Potter fans out there, its the dream that will make you so fulfilled, that once you take a look in that magical mirror, you see only yourself.
But can it be infected? Can someone squash it, like your a misquito on there arm? Does it have a wall made of bullet proof metal, or made of a wore down egg shell?
Well, as I tell my story, mine is made of bullet/non-teleporting metal.
My dream is to be an artist. I'm pretty good at it now, but my enemies disagree. There's this kid named Wes. What pisses me off is that he has the same name as the man of my dreams. Wes is a know-it-all. Even though this happen.
Wes: "Whats this?"
Me: "Thats a flippin' note book you idiot!"
No one likes him. He pretty much has no friends. Wes is black, and alot of people say that because him, eventually the world is gonna think blacks are horrible again.
Once I was drawing at my desk cause I didn't have a book to read after I took a test (I zip through books FAST) and I decided to draw. I was drawing a centaur and a little bit was related to Gaia. Wes sat in the back of me. He leaned over my shoulder and whispered "Hey do you want to be an artist?" Which was a dumb question cause EVERYONE in the school knew I wanted to be an artist. I was good at it and EVERYONE knew it.
"Yes. Do you have a problem with that?" I asked.
"Actually yeah I do," Wes replied. I sighed and shoved my pencil hard against the paper.
"And what are your reasons?" I asked. I was nibbling my lip, controlling myself. I've been real on edge that week and everything seemed to annoy me, things that were little, like this kid kept tapping my desk and I eventually shoved his foot down so hard he squealed in pain.
"Well your not that good. Look at the hooves! They suck!" Wes said.
My pencil broke. My eye twitched and I took deep breaths to control myself.
"Atleast you can tell there hooves," I muttered. I stood up to sharpen my pencil, glad I was leaving. I liked the whir whir of a pencil sharpener. I could take the pencil imagine it was someone I was pissed with and shove it into the hole.
I kept repeating "Hes just trying to get on your nerves, hes just trying to get on your nerves, you can ask your mom to get your alowence early so you can see that new massage place you saw a week ago."
When I returned he kept on bugging me about my picture. I finally couldn't take it anymore. My dreams were still pure and still 1,000,000 possiblities bloomed in my mind about how I would become a famous artist every second of the day.
I stood up and turned on my heal and met myself nose to nose to Wes. Everyone in the class was watching (even the teacher) with interest knowing that something was coming.
Wes leaned back in his seat with wide, horrified eyes. He had seen my flip out this way. I used to throw boots at people, break peoples teeth, fling pencils at them. Well today was new and refreshing with a new physically defence to protect my mental state.
"Well do you know what?" I hissed in Wes's face. He shook his head slowly.
"I bet your life is gonna turn out worse for you in the future," I began, "Because you don't believe in yourself so you have to break down other peoples mental defenses just cause you are sooooo sad about your life! Well you know what? You can just shove it! Your not fooling anyone! Cause your just a pathetic worm, searching for a place to dig into someones skin, though you can't stop can you Wes?"
I took my notebook and flung it at his face, hitting him square in the cheek. I was fed up with him, and Wes could tell. I took his pencil and snapped it in half and took his test and ripped it in half. I got in trouble but it was worth it cause....
Wes was silent and never bugged me for the rest of the day, week, month, or year.
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