The Dream

“Chari,” Paul said as we put the last piece of cotton blanket inside the basket. We already drained the water from the sheets and finished drying them in the dryer.

I carried the basket and we walked back inside.

“Why did they send you here?” he asked. Nobody asked me that. Usually, people would just assume stuff about me without even asking.

“Well,” I replied. “I lost both of my parents when I was six. You? Do you know what happened to your parents?”

Paul was picking his nose as we spoke.

“Nothing.” he said “Nothing happened to them.”

“Then who sent you here?” I asked

“Them.” he immediately answered, his voice seemed sad but firm as if he was hurt by what happened but he already accepted it.

“Why?” I asked again.

“We were a huge family.” he said “I have twelve siblings. Two big brothers, five big sisters, three younger brothers and two baby twin sisters.”

“What happened?”

“Mom and dad can’t take care of us anymore. My big brothers left home to work in a factory, three of my big sisters already have their own children and they’re staying at their boyfriends’ houses. The two left home and chose to live as homeless kids in the street. I was dropped here by my dad. The only ones left with them are my twin baby sisters.”

“What happened to your three younger brothers?”

“They died.”

I was surprised with what I heard so I paused to give myself time to absorb it.

We dumped the contents of the basket on the table by the living room and we started folding the bed sheets and the blankets as Paul continued on with his story. I was attentively listening to him.

“My younger brothers were taken by bullies one night after we went to a playground” he said “They were tied to a tree and beaten up to death.”

“How old were they when that happened?” I asked

“Two, three, and four.” he answered “We were poor so we just buried their bodies under that tree. My parents couldn’t afford a burial. Then the next day, my dad left me here.”

I felt sad hearing that tragic story. I couldn’t imagine how someone could do that to children. Suddenly, I felt lucky that those things didn’t happen to me and somehow, I was fortunate that we weren’t poor. It was hard to imagine the things Paul went through as he was growing up. What were the foods he grew up eating? Was he even sent to school for kindergarten? Did he have friends?”

“Paul,” I said “Did you have friends growing up?”

“No.” he answered “The kids in my neighborhood didn’t like me. Maybe because I have a snotty nose.”

That was sad.

“That’s alright,” I said, patting his head while giving him a huge smile. “You have me now. We could be friends!”

Then Paul and I continued on folding the bed sheets and the blankets as he told random stories about his life with his family and about his two years in this orphanage. He mentioned that he was always interested in getting to know me because I was always alone and nobody ever heard my voice. He even thought that I was a ghost. That made us both laugh.

When we finished folding, we distributed the sheets back to their respective rooms. This was the only time I really enjoyed doing the chores. It felt good to have someone help you and not do things by yourself. The task seemed easy and we managed to finish it quickly with no sweat.

After we distributed the sheets, Paul and I spent our time playing in the playground. This was the first time I set foot in this area. I tried the swing, we spent hours playing the see-saw, I enjoyed the slide, and it was fun playing with the sand on the sandbox. I taught Paul how to make sand castles. When I was younger, my mom and dad used to take me to the beach. It was a yearly event for us, family. We compete with each other in making sand castles and I usually win by unanimous decision. Then, after spending time at the beach, mom and dad would take me to my favorite ice cream place. It has been three years since I last ate ice cream.

“That was fun, Chari!” Paul exclaimed as we went back inside.

“Haven’t you already done that with your friends here?” I asked.

“I tried making friends.” he replied “They would play with me here for some time, but then, my friends would get taken away by the people who come here. Mrs. Mayers said that when people come here, we should keep in mind that we’re competing against each other and that the best kids were the only ones chosen. But I’m still here. Does it mean that I am not the best kid?”

I could totally relate, Paul.

“I’m still here too,” I said. “Do you think that I am not the best?”

“No, Chari. You are awesome!”

“Then you shouldn’t think about yourself that way.”

“Thank you, Chari.”

“You’re welcome!”

Dinnertime came and we all went back to the dining table to share a feast. Tomorrow will be another day for adoption and the kids were all excited and they couldn’t wait to have new parents. I saw Paul looking at me. His eyes were filled with worry so I smiled and whispered that he will be just fine. At the back of my mind, I wouldn’t want Paul to be taken away any sooner. I was sure that nobody would pick me again tomorrow and Paul was my only friend and I don’t want to lose him yet. We only had just one day to bond and play together.

We were scheduled to go back and sleep in our rooms at 8PM. I was still terrified by what happened last night even though it wasn’t clear to me if that was only just a dream. The broken metal bar was unusual. The rust stain on my blanket was weird as well. That would only happen if I really did tie it the other night so that I could escape. If that really happened, then who was that girl? Was I only imagining her? What about the scratches?

I didn’t realize that I had already fallen asleep until I heard a scratching sound on my window. It was dark but the moon was bright enough to make things visible. The only thing I saw hitting my window was the tree branch from outside so I ignored it and tried going back to sleep when suddenly,

“Chari…”