Choosing A Dream

"You. Fucking. Useless. Ungrateful. BRAT!" A shower of spit and vodka landed on Dave's face.

"All you want is my money, just like your garbage father!" She took it all out on Dave's arm, twisting it like the key of a wind-up toy. Tighter and tighter with every word.

He couldn't see her eyes, but he didn't need to. He saw it many times, the disgust, the regret, the silent love she couldn't drown.

What he could see was a stain of mostly dry puke on the bed: the clear sign that it was the weekend.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" She barked.

Dave knew better than to answer that.

He felt cigarette ashes tickling the back of his neck. He knew what was about to happen and a whimper escaped his tightened lips.

"Are you a wuss like him too?" She mocked, digging the cigarette butt in the delicate skin behind his ear.

Not a sound!

He focused on the familiar pain inside his empty stomach — the whole reason his mother got so upset in the first place.

Holding his breath, he imagined a world where his mother would have spent the money on groceries instead of alcohol, and they would be now enjoying a meal together before she sent him off to prom with a girl. His brain conjured the image of Lily in a puffy dress, and he almost forgot where he was.

Almost.

The skin behind his ear broke under the pressure of his mother's long acrylic nails that dug into it after the cigarette was extinguished.

"That's better." She liked it when he didn't complain.

Not for the pain. Not for the hunger. Not for the fact that she wouldn't even look at him when she was sober.

"Now get the fuck out of my sight!" As she released him from her grip, she stumbled on an empty bottle on the floor. Dave promptly caught her.

"Get your dirty hands off of me!" She yelled.

"But..."

Fuck.

His heart started pumping so quickly, it felt like the start of another panic attack.

You stupid, fucking, idiot!

He darted to the door before she could catch him again. A bottle exploded on the wall next to his head.

You fucking moron! Now she'll be double pissed. Which means double booze. Which means hair of the dog. Which means no food for the whole fucking weekend.

He sat by the kitchen table, contemplating whether to try begging the neighbors for something.

Maybe I could ask Mrs Williams for an egg. That's a neighborly thing to ask for, it shouldn't embarass mom.

Ok.

You just need to sound normal.

He tip-toed to the door, lingering a moment by the pile of mail that was sitting there.

There was a partial scholarship for an ivy league university. It would take him far away from home. Maybe his mom would have been so happy to have him gone that she would take out a loan for him?

He chuckled the thought away.

Had they been a normal family, she'd have saved the money from her second job to help him pay for his tuition. He'd be going away to study and she'd be sending him care packages with food.

Food.

Fuck.

A painful throb in his stomach.

On weekdays she'd leave early in the morning, arrive late, and head straight to the bedroom, drinking herself to sleep. But she would only get properly drunk on Friday evening, and turn into a raging lunatic until Sunday afternoon.

That was his favorite time of the week.

She would usually wallow in her room and order groceries. A few times a year she would even feel guilty enough to make waffles and talk to him.

His heart ached: not this Sunday.

You fucked it up! You always fuck everything up!

Big blue eyes welled with tears stared at him with a mix of guilt and disgust.

It took him a few moments to realized it was just the mirror. He still wasn't used to his look after Lily's nair-shampoo prank. Her crystal laugh filled his ears.

Don't you look pretty now?

She said "pretty". He couldn't help but smile.

Dave ran a hand on his bold head, the feel of all the dents and bumps making his reflection gag. He looked like he was battling cancer... and he wasn't winning.

He scrunched up his nose and reached for the door.

You...

Am I dreaming? He didn't move, too scared the stunning young woman in the puffy dress would disappear from his porch.

"I, uh... I'm sorry. I didn't know where to go." Lily spoke, while looking at the toes of her burgundy slippers.

"Can we talk?" She raised her eyes to him. Tears had dragged mascara down her face.

Dave nodded and stepped aside.

A smidgen of hope built up in his chest. Did he just materialize her?

He swallowed hard.

She hesitated, her hands wrapped around her tummy, as if she was nursing it. She looked down again, this time swinging her right foot just a little bit.

"Somewhere... more private?" She spoke again. Her voice soft and fragile, yet warm and enticing at the same time.

"My mom is...—Dave almost let the truth slip out — indisposed. I shouldn't leave her alone tonight." Disappointment shadowed Lily's eyes.

Fuck.

Don't fucking ruin this too!

"How about the garden? — He quickly offered. — Our neighbor is out of town but the fence would hide us anyway."

Lily rocked back and forth, then side to side, then tapped lightly with her left foot before speaking again.

"More private. I know a good place." She raised her eyes again.

Fuck.

You had me going there for a while, Lills. You are a born actress! And I'm honored you would ruin your make up just to prank me!

"Please, Dave. I don't want to be alone tonight." She extended a hand, inviting him to take it.

Fuck.

Dave's heart pumped faster than it has ever done before.

He knew this was nothing but the beginning of a prank. He knew his "Lills" too well. She'd been his main prankster — well, bully — since as far as he could remember.

But her pranks used to be silly, innocent. The occasional fart pillow, embarassing nickname, and maybe a rumor or two. Classic Lills and Dave. He contemplated fondly.

She never wanted to actually, phisically, hurt him.

Not until Marcus showed up.

She looked so beautiful though.

And what if it is for real? What if you are just so paranoid you cannot see it when life gives you a break?

He looked at every inch of Lily again. She shivered but didn't retract her hand.

She is acting as if Marcus drove her away by doing something awful but would still want to hold your hand after the way you just looked at her? No way.

It is a prank.

But...

What if it is one of those pranks where the girl pretends to like you? We'd hold hands all the way until the abandoned area where her friends are hiding. Maybe even slowdance a little bit before they jump out with whatever shit they want to throw at me.

A little humiliation in exchange for some warmth.

It will be worth it.

Fuck.

Dave took her hand and Lily squeezed it gently. She silently took the lead and he followed her, watching her dress shimmer in the street lights, swinging left and right with every step. He'd walk just fast enough that she couldn't get upset at him, enjoying every stretched second of her soft skin against his fingers.

Lily led him into an abandoned construction site far at the edge of their small town.

No whitnesses: perfect grounds for a nasty prank. Please... at least, dance with me first!

They stopped in the middle of a clearing. Dave immediately noticed the big industrial lights that, despite being currently off, were all pointed at the spot where they were standing.

What do you need lights for? Are you... recording us?

Less than a couple feet away from there, some conveniently located boxes could easily hide 3 or 4 people. Heck, 5 even, if they squeezed.

He waited.

"This is stupid but...— She swung her free hand around a little bit before offering it to him— do you feel like dancing? With me?"

YES!

Dave took her other hand, and she smiled seductively, before placing both of his hands on her hips. She then hung hers around his neck and hummed a romantic melody. They rocked side to side a little bit before she stopped and spoke again.

"Can I... Can we... — She cleared her throat and continued with a trembling voice — Can you close your eyes?" She moved her hands up to his face and gently caressed his cheeks and temples, before running her fingers where he would have had hair if it wasn't for her lacing his shampoo during gym class.

"You do look pretty" She whispered. He could feel her warm breath on his lips.

Will she kiss you for a prank?

Fuck.

Dave gulped, removed his now sweaty palms from Lily's hips and closed his eyes.

"Did you like dancing with my girlfriend?" A husky voice erupted from behind the wall of boxes.

Laughter followed.

Dave opened his eyes to see his prediction mostly correct. The industrial lamps were all lit, Marcus was recording, but there were 8 of them behind the boxes! They must have been sitting on top of each other to fit. He chuckled at the idea of somebody's butt pressed firmly against Marcus's face.

"How about you dance with me too, looser?" Everyone bursted into laughter as Marcus finished his line and fished a lighter from his pocket.

With a series of loud pops and bangs, a string of firecrackers exploded between Dave's feet, projecting sharp fiery paper onto his shoes. A familiar feeling, much like his mother's cigarettes.

Don't move. Don't speak. It will be over soon.

His eyes ran to Lily.

"And I ruined my make-up for this? You said it would go viral but he didn't even flinch! Let's just go to the prom, I want to dance for real!" She was protesting against Marcus.

"STOP LOOKING AT HER AND DANCE FOR ME!" Marcus growled with wild eyes, before throwing a red cylinder at him.

For a fraction of a second, Dave saw panic in Lily's eyes. Then a flash of light engulfed them and everything was drenched in sulfur.

A loud ringing covered the world and, for a little bit, Dave serenely observed the horror on the faces of the people around him. It looked like one of those Charlie Chaplin movies he'd seen in the AV club. Their mouths were moving, gasping, gagging, puking even, but no sound was coming out of them.

Peaceful. I wish the world was always this peaceful. Let me sit down.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Marcus's strained voice pushed its way through the ringing.

"Who the fuck just stands there, waiting to get a cherry bomb to the face?"

My face?

With horror, Dave tried to touch his face but his left hand wouldn't bulge. He looked at it weakly. Blood. It was covered in blood.

He summoned his other hand and slowly examined his face.

Still there. He smiled in relief.

"Did you guys see that? He's smiling! The fucking drama queen hurt himself on purpose to get back at us! Let's get the fuck out of here!" The guys scattered in all directions like billiard balls at the opening of a game.

Only Lily lingered.

She looked frozen, like a fawn caught in the lights of a truck.

Dave wanted to comfort her but the alarm on his smartwatch brougth him back to reality. It was his mom's PERS: the automatic fall detection sending him a notification. It used to go to the emergency services but Dave disabled that feature.

Drunk and dizzy is not a good reason to call an ambulance.

He thought about his mom's birthday, when he got her the device. She joked that he couldn't afford her dying and smiled. That was the last waffle Sunday of the year.

He'd tutor younger students all summer to buy the two devices, her PERS, and his smartwatch. He also bought a phone but didn't tell her. He left it hiding with his pajamas, under his pillow.

Fuck.

It's still there...

The world started spinning.

"My mom fell, can you call 911?" He murmured in Lily's direction, before slumping inside a warm, ruby puddle.

A sharp burning pain in his left arm woke him up. He turned his head to it, only to see a bundle of gauze coming out of a hospital gown.

"You're awake! — a cheerful female voice spoke to him — Can you tell me your name and the city we are in?"

He gave a puzzled look at the woman in the white robe.

Why are they worried about my brain? It's my hands... oh shit! He saw the smartwatch on his wrist.

"Is my mom ok?" The urgency in his voice startled the woman.

"I'm sorry, kid. We tried calling your landline but nobody picked up. Do you know where we—" She started explaining.

Fuck!

"She was drunk and fell. Can you send an ambulance?" Dave urged.

"You want me to send an ambulance because she was drunk and fell asleep?" Now she was the one with the puzzled look.

"No. She fell from the stairs. Please, you have to send an ambulance!" Dave insisted.

It worked.

The woman bolted out of the room and he saw her grabbing the phone at the nurses station outside his room. After a few seconds she raised a thumb towards him before walking back in.

A small lie to make sure they check. Nobody ever got to prison for a small lie.

God I hope it is a lie.

If she tried going downstairs to get herself a beer...

The return of the doctor interrupted him.

"They will take care of her. I'll give you something for the pain."

Not doubting my brain anymore? He managed to chuckle as he slipped out of consciousness.

The following hours (Days? Weeks?) were a swirling mess, blending dreams and reality together. As the doctors worked to reconstruct his arm and shoulder, and explained how permanent nerve damage meant permanent pain, he kept dreaming of Lily.

Her sweet wispering voice. The touch of her hands. Her breath on his lips.

You do look pretty. She said, in his memory.

She sounded so real.

What if she meant it? She did try to stand up to Marcus for him at the end, didn't she? And she did stay behind and called him an ambulance.

This would be her wake up call to dump Marcus. She would then come to apologize, bringing roses and a teddy bear, just like they do in the movies. And we would joke about how cliché it was. She'd make fun of the way he looked in the hospital gown, and he would fake indignation to tease her.

Maybe... maybe this would become the story of how they became friends. More than friends, even. "Classic Lills and Dave!" People would sigh listening to this story.

Dave let himself dream.

With every tremble of the door, he imagined Lily coming through. He wanted to materialize her out of thin air, just the way it seemed he did on prom night.

He needed to see her again.

He had to know if she regretted that night... or, how much of it she regretted.

He also had to keep his mind busy to prevent guilt for his mother from crawling in. He hadn't heard anything about her yet but the knot in his stomach said it could be nothing good. And what would he tell her once he saw her?

Sorry mom. I knew you needed me, but I wanted to hold hands with my bully instead.

He cringed and shivered, hiding under the blanket. Then he heard the door squeak open.

Lily?

No.

Another nurse.

Mrs. Williams had dropped some of his things before heading for work that morning. He checked the bag: pajamas, slippers, toothbrush, a book, and — Finally! — his phone.

He turned it on, waiting for notifications to buzz.

Where's everyone?

Surely his classmates will have heard about his accident by now? He checked the Facebook page of his class, in anticipation of the sympathy his peers would show him. They had no choice, just this once.

His fingers scrolled through the posts' history, only to discover that a heavily edited video of his accident was there, with the title "Freak lights himself on fire for attention".

He checked the comments.

Everyone was buying into the narrative that he set the cherry bomb on himself to try and blackmail Lily into kissing him. "Unstable just like his mother" was the universal verdict.

He felt sick.

Surely, Lily would tell them differently! She was there after all.

He desperately looked her Instagram page up.

There she was, in the latest picture. Her eyes seductively staring into the camera, her lips protruded in the infamous "duck face" pose:

"Just settled in my new bigass apartment in the city. I am NEVER coming back home! #YOLO #CollegeIsForNerds #LivingTheDream"

That was it. Never coming back home.

No apology. No friendship. No more dreaming.

He wanted to scream and throw the phone in the wall but a doctor with a stern look put his meltdown on pause.

"Your mother..." She started speaking.

Still flushed with anger, Dave could barely hear as the doctor threw too many words at him.

Swelling of the spine

Blot clot

Ictus

Permanently impaired

If only we had known a little earlier.

Because of him. Because he had chosen to let himself dream.