6th July

I had a dream.

It was an odd dream.

I sat down on a chair. I looked at it, it was made of wood, put together with nails. It was not that comfortable since I was sitting on a hard surface, it reminded me of the school chair. Where was I? I was unsure, and I tried to look around me.

It was dark, but not that unbearably dark. I seemed to be in a house of some sort. I could vaguely see a coffee table in front of me, a television beyond that. It was different from my house, the way the television and table looked were off. Similar, but it was not the same.

A light.

A small light, barely lighting up at all as it shone through the darkness, an orange orb of light around it. The light was on the table, and from what I could see, it was small. A few more lighted up, one big one, and six smaller ones at a shorter height. It became clear to me, the circular object, the white frosting, the decorative pieces on top. It was a cake, a pretty well made one at that. I looked at the lights that were barely illuminating the cake. I tried to read the words with no success.

The orange lights lit something else up. I could see a face, her face glowing slightly orange from the light.

The lights were flames, the orange flames of lighted candles. She stared at it longingly before facing me, smiling. Who was she? And what was she doing here? Those thoughts ran through my mind. Why was it dark? Why was there a cake there? The girl looked at me and got up. I could vaguely see her getting up, going to my right and reaching out. She grabbed something and pulled. In the dark room, it was as if the lights had turned on, the sunlight streamed in. Orange light streamed in, allowing me to see everything in the room. The girl stood there, her arms extended by her side as she smiled widely.

I watched her as she spun and stopped, walking up to me. I looked back at the cake. It seemed nice, a clean layer of white frosting over it. The edges of the top of the cake were decorated with flowers made of frosting. In the middle, the seven candles. I could see a bunch of fruits, varying from strawberries to mangoes to grapes. Sticking out of the cake was a sign, a sign with the words 'Happy Birthday!'. Was it my birthday? Huh, never expected it.

The girl was clapping, looking at me expectedly. She mouthed the happy birthday song, clapping along with the beat. She sang it, I did not hear any noise, just knowing that she was singing. She had blonde hair tied up into a ponytail. Her eyes were a deep blue. She wore a black jacket, a white shirt underneath with black pants. She seemed oddly dressed for someone attending a birthday party.

When she was done, she looked at me, her eyes staring right into mine. I looked away, not daring to look back. She passed me a plastic knife that came with the cake. I held it in my hands, the object ever so light in my hands. She looked at me, then gestured to the candles. I looked at the candles.

The flames were dancing in place despite the lack of wind. The candle wax was melting and dripping down the candle, about halfway melted. The flames looked calming, and enticing, which was odd because I knew the danger of flames. I blew gently across the cake, the flames leaning away from me before disappearing with a wisp of smoke. The girl clapped when I did it. Then I remembered, was I not supposed to make a wish before I blew it out? I quickly scrambled up a thought, a wish.

I thought to myself, I wish to be healthy for the rest of my life.

It was a wish I doubted would ever be granted. My body was frail and I was often sick, having a healthy life, at least a somewhat healthy life was near impossible for me. But it did not mean I couldn't wish for it still.

I stared at the cake and reached out with the knife, pointing the tip of it at the estimated centre of the cake. I let the tip of the plastic blade sink in slightly before pushing it through the tip first and pushing it down after, cutting the cake. The girl reached over and grabbed a paper plate I did not notice was beside the cake. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around my grip on the knife. I let go, surprised by the unexpected act. She smiled smugly at me and pulled the blade out, cutting the cake again to create a slice. She pulled it out skilfully and placed it on the plate placing a fork on it and handing it to me.

I stared at it as she cut a slice out herself.

The cake itself was yellowish, the frosting was white. There were two layers, the cake was thick. I dug my fork into the front, stabbing through and pulling out. I stared at the cake I had on the fork. This type of cake was unfamiliar to me, and I was unsure of how it would taste. The girl had her slice on another plate, and she was looking at me as if waiting for me to start eating first. I put it in my mouth and chewed. It was nice, the fluffiness of the cake went well with the melting frosting. It was really nice.

I looked at the fruits that lined the top. The girl was already eating, showing quite the expressions when eating. She stopped when she noticed me looking at her, I looked away. She reached out to take the happy birthday tag and stabbed it into my slice of cake. She smiled and sat back on the floor, her legs crossed as she ate. I read the happy birthday again, pulling it out. I flipped it around, curious about what was on the other side of the tag.

'Thirty-First of July'

My eyes flew open.

I blinked a few times, looking up at the dimly lit room, only lit up by natural sunlight that penetrated my curtains. I stretched in my bed, pushing the blanket off of me. I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and let my toes touch the ground, standing up from there. I stood at full height and stretched more, reaching upwards and standing tiptoed. I let out a long yawn as I walked out of my room. I walked into the living room, walking towards the sofa. I walked past it, glancing at the clock, then at the television, more out of boredom than anything else. I went towards the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I stared at my reflection as I brushed my teeth.

I had slightly long blank hair, and my eyes were also black. I thought about it, I had identified the classmates I interacted with by colour. Red had red hair and red eyes, so I had called him Red. Pink had pink hair and pink eyes, along with pink clothes to back it up, so I had called her Pink.

I looked at myself. If I saw someone like myself, I would probably call that person Black.

I finished my business and walked out to the living room again. I looked at the dining table, where a faint fragrance of coffee came from. I looked at my father, who was sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper. I walked up to him, wondering what we were having for breakfast, and where my mother was.

"Good morning." I said softly.

"Morning." My father replied, flipping the paper.

I sat there awkwardly, not sure what I was supposed to be doing. Thinking about it, I rarely got it to talk with my parents outside of breakfast and dinner, it felt so unnatural to speak with them.

"Where's mother?" I asked my father.

"She's resting." He assured me, not even looking up from the paper. "She's pretty drained from the past week."

"I see…" I said, not sure how to continue the conversation.

I was bad at socialising, and it felt even worse when speaking to my father for some reason. He lifted his cup again and took another sip of coffee. I played with my fingers, not sure what to say. I rapidly thought up up a random conversation topic, going with the flow.

"When will we be leaving?" I asked him.

"Soon." He replied. "Get ready."

How soon was soon supposed to be? I tried not to think too much about it, instead, I went into my room and got a change of clothes. I went for a quick shower and got out, a towel over my head. I looked towards the living room, walking towards my room with the towel. My father was sitting at the couch, in his casual attire, ready to depart. He waited for me by looking at his watch. He did not rush me, but his actions definitely meant that I should rush.

I went into my room, violently rubbing my hair with the towel once more before throwing it over my chair. I went out, comb in hand and combing my hair. I placed the comb down on the coffee table. My father sure was fast, he took less time to change than me to shower. He stood up on his feet and got the keys.

"Well, let's go shopping then." He said.

"Okay." I replied.

I stepped in front of my father, having worn my shoes quicker than him. He locked the door behind him, having said, "We'll be going off now."

He locked the door, and we left the apartment.

The bus ride to the supermarket was uneventful.

We got off in front of the supermarket. The facility was large, much too large for me to grasp fully. To me, it seemed to stretch out endlessly, although I knew it wasn't actually that big. There were other shoppers around, also entering the complex. My father led me into the supermarket, telling me to get a trolley before we entered. I got one as he instructed me to, getting it from where everyone got theirs. The shopping cart I had gotten was odd, one of the wheels was loose. I pushed it, and it produced a concerning creaking sound. I went up to my father, who was looking into the supermarket from the outside.

It was a Sunday morning, of course there were going to be a large number of people. However, compared to what I had imagined, the numbers seemed somewhat underwhelming.

I followed behind my father who pushed the cart, not seeming to kind the creak of the wheels. We entered the supermarket, and I was instantly met with rows upon rows upon rows of fresh and packaged products. It was wide and tall, and most notable of all, to the far left, was an angled escalator for shoppers to go up or down. My father guided me around, making sure I did not get lost.

He brought me over to the fresh meats products, where I was unguided with the cold air. I wore a black shirt and pants, which was not quite enough to keep me warm under the freezing temperatures of the meat section. It wasn't that cold, but I had no fat to keep me warm, normal temperatures felt cold to me already. Some would say my very body was cold.

My father picked up a few packages where there were strips of pinkish meat on a styrofoam plate wrapped with plastic. He faced me, asking, "Are you a chicken guy?"

"I think so." I replied.

He nodded and threw a few of those packages into the shopping cart. He took a few more steps forward and lifted another package up, this time, the meat was in strips, almost as if it was separated by three sections. The meat was white and pink, and it was cut thinly.

"Do you like bacon?" My father asked.

"Not a fan of pork." I replied.

He nodded and placed the meat back where he had gotten it from. I stood to the left of my father as he walked, looking to his right. His upper body was slouched over the handle of the shopping cart, his elbows on the handles, keeping him somewhat up.

"Anything else you would like here?" My father asked me, looking around.

"Not particularly." I replied.

Be nodded and walked past the meat section and onto the dairy section of the store. I followed after him, this time met with fridges upon fridges upon fridges. The fridges had a clear door so we could look into them and view the products. They had a seemingly endless variety of milk, cheese, yoghurt, and more cheese. My father, without asking, had gotten a few things from the dairy section, placing them in the shopping cart. I looked into what we were purchasing, a mix of cheese and milk. Whatever he needed them for, I did not know.

"I think milk and cheese are good for you." My father told me. "It has calcium and it'll fatten you up."

I nodded and walked along with him, continuing our awkward father-son moment together. As much as I did not know my father, I realised my father did not know that much about me either. I was often sick, and he had drowned himself in work at one point, almost as if I no longer existed, at least, until he quit and found a job he liked better. Looking at my father, the man in front of me had taken care of me and had never given up despite the financial strain I put on him for all those years.

He stopped and looked at the fridge to his right. He signalled me to go closer to him, so I walked around the shopping cart to see it. He pointed at the glass, at the new product. It was a roll of cheese, quite large, actually, maybe about six inches wide?

"Should we get this?" He asked me.

"What would we use it for?" I asked back.

"Yeah, we wouldn't really use this, huh?"

Just like that, we continued with the shopping. The next section we were supposed to go to was the seafood section which we just avoided completely, instead, taking a hard left and going into the vegetable section. My father looked through the options and picked a few of his own. I did not mind that he selected everything, I had no preference to begin with. I just waited as he observed and placed the vegetables wrapped in plastic into the shopping cart. Not long after, we continued our shopping.

We moved on to the canned food section. I was looking through what was available when I saw a can of chicken luncheon meat. I never tried anything like it before and was interested in what a slab of processed meat would taste like. My father saw my gaze and casually took it off the shelf, placing it in the trolley. We got a few more cans of beans, tuna and the basics.

The cart was starting to get full, and my father was arranging it as tactically as he could to conserve space. I wandered around, hearing my father say to me, "Don't go off too far!"

"I won't." I replied, looking around.

The options provided at the supermarket intrigued me. It was the first time I had ever gone to a place this big and this varied. Like a child brought to a supermarket for the first time, I wandered around, wondering what I could find. I walked around, the places I went to were surprisingly empty for the number of people I saw at the entrance.

I stopped when I saw packets of instant noodles lining the shelves. I had never seen those before, instant noodles. I grabbed a packet and checked what it was about. The name was implying that you would get noodles quick, but just what was it? I checked the packaging and saw three pictures.

The first picture showed a cartoon pot filled with water, a flame under it. Above the pot was a white square with wavy designs.

The second picture showed the pot being tilted slightly, the noodles kept inside.

The third picture showed the noodles inside a bowl, metal packets over it, sprinkling some kind of powder and oil over it.

I wonder, where did the noodles come from? I shook it, feeling and hearing the tossing of something unfamiliar. I gave up and put it back on the shelf. I turned around and tried to look for my father, nowhere in sight. Was I lost?

I tried walking in a direction, but I was unsure if it was the right direction to begin with. I scratched my head, starting to panic as I realised the gravity of the situation. I was pacing around when I felt someone grab my shoulder.

I turned around, jumping.

I looked at the person who had somehow sneaked up on me. She had a smile on her face as she saw my expression. She had pink hair that was allowed to flow past her shoulders. Her hair was straight, and it seemed to glow pinker under the light. Her eyes were a nice shade of pink with several splashes of lighter shades of pink. She wore the same pink hoodie as I saw her in yesterday, in fact, she seemed to be in the same attire as yesterday. She shoved her hands into the pockets of the hoodie as she bounced on her heels.

"Hey there." She greeted.

"Hello?" I replied, unsure.

Pink looked around, whistling as she saw the variety of instant noodles. She asked while looking, "Whatcha doing here?"

She seemed carefree, actually, what was she doing here in the first place? She seemed to be relaxed. I replied, "Shopping with my father, what about you?"

"Oh, shopping with my family." She told me. "We're planning on a steamboat tonight."

"Oh, I see."

There was an awkward air around us. Partially because we barely knew anything about each other and had nothing to talk about. She seemed friendly enough, but I still found it difficult and forced to have a conversation with someone. Thinking about it, I had another thought, what was a steamboat? Could we buy boats in the supermarket? I need to ask my father later.

"I'm… kind of lost…" I said softly.

She nodded. "Where's your dad?"

"I think… the…" I tried to think back. "Canned foods?"

She scratched her head and looked around before pointing behind me. I turned around, looking into the seemingly endless rows of products.

"Go forward, turn left before waking some more. When you see the ice cream section, you need to turn right, you'll be at the canned foods section then." She told me.

"Th-Thank you." I thanked her before walking away.

At the end of the instant noodles section, I looked back, and she was no longer in sight. Had she gone to another lane while I was walking? I was quite far into the lane, it was possible. I followed her instructions, finally reaching the canned foods section where my father was still arranging the items.

He saw me and asked me to help, which I did.

Afterwards, he asked me, "You want anything else?"

I thought about it. "Um… Instant noodles…?"

My father nodded and walked towards the instant noodle section where I saw Pink. He looked at the variations and picked one out for me. It was the classic chicken flavour, probably the safest option for me.

We continued the shopping, and after we were done, we were left with a bunch of bags. My father was strong and was able to carry most of the plastic bags while I carried only two. We went home.

The bus ride home was uneventful.

We reached home, and I helped my father arrange the stuff we had bought. I placed cans in the shelves while my father placed the meat and vegetables into the fridge, along with most of the other stuff he bought.

After we were done, we left once again, this time, to have lunch. I had never been out so much before, the experience was new and I welcomed it. My father brought me to a nearby vegan place where the food was alright in my opinion. Some parts made me rethink swallowing the food, but overall, it was alright. Just that the beancurd had a slight problem, even my father thought so. After lunch, or branch for me, my father went over to a nearby electricity store to purchase a new light bulb for my room. We proceeded to walk for another fifteen minutes back to our apartment.

I felt tired, being that I was so thin, the amount of energy was basically non-existent. My father had to lend me a shoulder just so I could climb up the stairs after reaching the apartment.

"We're home." My father said as we entered the house.

My mother sat on the sofa, staring at the television as a programme was playing. I went back to my room, my father speaking to my mother.

Not long after, my father entered the room with a ladder, fixing the lightbulb faster than I had eaten.

For dinner, I had watched as my father cooked up a simple meal. He seemed so reliable today, he seemed to know everything and was able to do anything. A capable man, I felt proud to have him as my father.

I ate dinner in silence, my father speaking to my mother about something, but I mostly tuned it out. Time with my family wasn't bad, it wasn't bad at all. It was nice, I think I had fun. Years of being sick, the concept of joy and fun seemed so foreign to me, but maybe just simple things like spending time with my family could make me remember that feeling. I started to look forward to the next opportunity I had to go on an outing with my parents.

At night, I laid on my bed, thinking about a few things. Pink, the girl I had only met recently, would I see her in class? It would be quite awkward if so. And tomorrow, I had plans to visit Red's house after school, hopefully, my parents would allow me to go, and hopefully, my health was in a stable condition.

I closed my eyes, ready to go the sleep, my alarm set to ring.

Beep… Beep… Beep…

I wonder, when would I forget about my time at the hospital? I was ready to move on with my life, I was ready to overcome the setback of being admitted into the hospital. My health was fine so far, and I hope it would continue. I no longer wanted to let my past affect me, I wanted to change.

I hoped so, at least.

Beep… Beep… Beep…