All a Dream (Solo)

John awoke comfortably situated on his back in a hospital bed. Apart from a minor headache, John felt none of the agonies he had suffered recently. He took a moment to think back on the events that had passed since he last slept if you can call being knocked unconscious for an undetermined amount of time “sleeping”. He could no longer feel certain what he recalled actually happened because it all seemed too fantastic. He wondered if he had dreamed it all or if he had simply lost his grip on sanity at long last.

His memories told him he had nearly died fighting a man who could fly simply by willing it. He remembered the man could kill and destroy simply by throwing energy out of his hands. John lost consciousness and ended up in the hospital where, upon first waking, he encountered a man in a suit whose face remained hidden by the shade cast by his hat. The man referred to himself as “Coach” and explained to John what had happened. The man John fought had been a participant in some kind of tournament where the contestants travelled the world hunting each other down until only one remained alive.

“Coach” claimed to have convinced the people running the show not to have John killed, but rather have him replace the dead contender. He also convinced them to delay the contest for 30 days so that he could personally ready John for his upcoming participation. John had difficulty swallowing the man’s story, so “Coach” proved himself by helping John activate what he called his “ki”; it was an altogether unpleasant and surreal experience.

John failed to remember what happened next and did not see “Coach” anywhere in the room to offer an explanation. John stood out of bed and examined his arms. He flexed his muscles to gauge his strength, but he felt no different than he had last week. “If it really happened and I’m not totally nuts then I should be able to “flare” up like I did last time.” He muttered to himself.

John closes his eyes and tried ignoring the sounds throughout the hospital and began searching himself for his ki. He stood still for over five minutes, feeling incredibly foolish as the seconds ticked by. John then felt a sudden chill and his eyes snapped open in terror. Why was he afraid?

Was he afraid by going further he would prove to himself that what his mind told him what happened actually happened? Or was he scared of that terrifyingly cold power he may have encountered inside him? If his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him then John would have to face the fact he had a monstrous force dwelling inside of him and he didn’t much appreciate the idea.

He heard a knocking on his door and breathed a sigh of relief for a distraction from his morbid thoughts. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, why?” John asked. “I’m decent, so you can come in.” He hastily added.

A middle-aged and kindly looking nurse stepped inside. “You have a visitor,” She announced with a smile, but John frowned; he feared reappearance by “Coach”, his presence alone would confirm all of John’s fears.

“Who is it?” John asked cautiously.

The nurse stepped aside and admitted his visitor who, to John’s relief, was not “Coach” at all. A very beautiful woman stepped in front of him and measure neither taller nor shorter than he. Her red eyes captured his attention for an instant and thought they looked lovely with his smooth ebony hair and beach-bronzed skin. She wore a short red dress that hardly concealed her plump breasts and hugged her hourglass frame. As he looked at her, he felt her eyes scanning him as though judging him. Find me worthy, please. John suddenly thought and blinked quickly to banish it to the back of his mind.

“What’s your name?” The lovely lady asked, neither of them her nor acknowledged the nurse as she dismissed herself to care for another patient.

“John,” He answered softly.

The woman suddenly hugged him and draped her head over his shoulder. John’s eyes widened with shock and his hands remained still at his side, uncertain of how to react. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She repeated; she broke into tears and then wept quietly into John’s shoulder.

John gently embraced her, knowing of nothing else to do in that peculiar moment. “For what? Why are you crying?”

“He killed them, the monster! He killed Marcia and Anthony! I’ll never forgive him! But you! You saved Tabitha; he would have killed her too, but you saved her and then you went back and you stopped him. You stopped him good and I hope his soul will burn for all time for what he did, but thank God you stopped him! Thank God for you, John; thank God for you!” She kept on crying and John did his best to comfort her, but her words began tearing apart his own defenses; she made not have been “Coach”, but her words confirmed what had happened actually happened.

“Is it true?” She suddenly asked, wiping tears away from her face; John noted no colors ran down her skin, which meant she wore no makeup he could see.

“Is what true?” John asked.

“They told me you’re just some bum off the streets.” Her comment hurt him far worse than the reality of his situation because of the truth of it.

“Yeah, what of it?” John snapped defensively.

“Oh, then you must come live with me and Tabitha. It’s the least I can do for you; after all you’ve been through, you deserve a home and school and…Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll take care of you from now on!” She announced.

John could not even begin to wrap his head around what was being said. He had longed for as long as he could think back for someone to rescue him from the streets and give him a good home and a bright future. He had wished fervently when he was hardly a boy that a family would come around and love him, appreciate him, admire him, and help him. He had stopped wishing long ago and he had stopped hoping. He faced the reality that the older children at the orphanage often taunted him with; nobody loved him and nobody was going to save him because of it.

John had learned the hard way that love was just a word; just a fairy tale and as long as he believed that, his heart could not break. He never truly believed it, however. He could never completely isolate his heart and make himself hard and he made a good many attempts at it. He did not think anyone truly believed love was nothing but a big load. Those who said it was were like him; people who hurt so bad it was better to give up on the idea of better things than to hope for them and be continually crushed by disappointment.

“Don’t mess with me,” John deliberately hissed at the woman and pulled away from her forcibly. “I was right! I was right! This is all just a dream and I’ll wake up any moment now in a ditch, a dumpster, or behind bars and my life will go on!” He laughed quite madly.

The woman rushed forward and hugged him tightly again, surprising John. Her soft skin and warmth helped normalize him. “I wish it was a dream, John, darling. I really wish it was a dream. I wish I could wake up tomorrow and make Marcia’s breakfast; she loves…loved chocolate chip pancakes. I wish I could see my husband off to work just before he drove Marcia to school.” She slid slowly down John’s form until she knelt and had her limbs wrapped around his ankles. “But it’s not a dream! All I have left is Tabitha! Oh, I must sound terribly ungrateful; I love her, I honestly do, but why couldn’t they all survive!”

“Say it,” John told her; she looked up into his knowing gaze and shook her head. “I’ve heard worse; go on and say it because whether or not you do; others will.”

She bowed her head and trembled with grief and relented. “Why couldn’t you save them too?” She shouted. “Why didn’t you save them AND Tabitha? Why! Why! WHY!”Her sorrow consumed her in that moment and she cried into John’s pants.

John didn’t answer her; she didn’t want an answer and even if she did, John could only tell her. I’m wasn’t strong enough; I’m not strong enough. Instead of answering her, John asked her, “Do you hate me?”

“How can I hate you?” She asked with her head bowed again. “You saved Tabitha.”

“But I couldn’t save your husband or your Marcia. I couldn’t save the cops, the firemen, or even the man who sat in front of me and saved me by shielding me from that killer! Can you take me into your home knowing I couldn’t save them?” John asked her. “How can you possibly love me when I’d only remind you of what you lost?”

“You couldn’t save them,” She sobbed. “But I can save you and I’ll love you and I won’t ever say such a hurtful thing to you again. I’ll never blame you and if people do blame you like you say then I’ll stand up and I’ll say ‘Shame! Shame on you! This is a good man who does what he can and you should all wish to be like him! I know I do!’ I’ll tell them ‘If there were more like him then more people could be saved from terrible people!’” She declared, shocking John into a moment of silence.

“You would do that for me? Would you really say those things?” He asked, daring to hope for the first time in years. A thought occurred to him, a promising thought. “You wish to be like me?”

“I would,” She confirmed as she stood up; then they hugged. “And I do.”

She refused John his name when he asked her for it. “You’ll call me, Mom.” She declared with a grin and John smiled with her; things had been bad, but John thought they would get better.

They left the hospital together in a rental she was using for the time being while her insurance company worked on getting her a new car. “Where’s Tabitha?” John asked. “She wasn’t hurt was she?”

“No, the doctors said she was fine and I was able to take her home. She’s being watched by a sitter right now.” John couldn’t believe his new mother had placed her daughter in someone else’s care after all that happened just to come pick him up. It was a strange, terrifying, and wonderful thing to be loved.

They drove to a clothing store where “Mom” insisted to buy him a new wardrobe. “You can’t be seen in those filthy rags anymore.” She said.

“You really don’t have to do this for me, I’m fine.” He insisted, but then “Mom” reached out, grabbed his shirt and ripped its collar.

“No son of mine will be going around in a torn shirt,” She announced and John made a decision right there in the parking lot not to argue with her again.

They left the store with no less than ten new outfits for John, They made another stop at a shoe store and, one hour later, John’s old boots ended up in the dumpster behind the store, but only after “Mom” cut them apart with scissors. John foolishly made a comment about how someone else could use his old boots, having fought for shoes before in his life. She then bought an extra pair of shoes. “We’ll donate these,” She announced.

They went to the grocery store after that and caught John eyeing ice cream cones in the freezer aisle. She grabbed the box he seemed to want the most then waved them in front of his face. “We need to work on your communication skills. If you want something, you ask for it nicely.” She then dropped the treats into her cart. “You can have one after dinner.” She announced.

“Yes, mother,” John replied with a grin.

“Mom” drove John to his new home and he was awestruck upon his arrival. Her house was a modest two-story affair with a connecting garage, but it looked like paradise to John. As he stared at the yellowing front lawn, he felt, not for the first time that day, he had entered a dream. He helped carry in groceries and his new clothes. “Only two bags at a time!” “Mom” ordered the instant John tried taking off with over half her purchases. “Bring all that stuff back here and try again.” John found he adored everything about the woman, including how she reprimanded him and bossed him around; he couldn’t call her “Mom” without ALL the bells and whistles.

He followed her into the house and found a very distraught teenage girl sitting on a nearby couch with a crying infant. John immediately recognized the baby. “Hello, Tabitha. I’m glad to see you doing alright.” If the baby heard him or recognized him, she showed no sign of it; instead, her eyes locked onto her mother and reached out with her tiny arms.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Malkin,” The teenager said.

“Thank you, Susan. Please be a dear and help John bring in some things. I’ll take Tabitha from you now.” She said to Susan’s immediate relief.

Susan looked at John as though seeing him for the first time and John looked back at her. She had brownish-gold hair she had braided into a pair of tails. She had freckles and looked a bit thin for someone her age; John guessed she could not have been more than fourteen years old. She had green eyes that matched the vibrancy of John’s own. She wore a white t-shirt with black sleeves and a smiling panda on the front and a pair of jean shorts. “H-hi,” She said, blushing with visible attraction to the lean boy who, to her, had “trouble” scribbled all over him.

As soon as she realized she had traded the responsibility of a baby with that of helping Strong John, she slowly stood up and started twisting her braids. “Hello,” John replied stiffly.

“So, um…Where are you from?” Susan tried striking up a conversation as they made their way outside and to the rental.

“Downtown,” John replied.

“Oh!” She half-shouted. “Did you hear what happened there the other night?”

“Yes,” John said; “Coach” had told him enough and he hoped never to see him again.

“Poor Mrs. Malkin,” Tabitha remarked. “I wish there was something I could do for her.”

“Me too,” John admitted. “She doesn’t deserve this.” He said softly and thought, I don’t deserve her.

Later, John entertained Tabitha who, unlike her mother, did not quite appreciate his existence let alone his presence. She cried the entire time “Mom” prepared dinner for them and John felt his heart break for the baby. She still had her home and her mother, but her sister was gone and she’d grow up without a father. “I know how you feel, kid. Cry all you want and I’ll listen; it’s the least I can do.” John told her.

Tabitha refused to eat more than a few mouthfuls of the baby food supplied to her by her mother with a spoon. John ate the spaghetti cooked for him as though he were a ravenous beast. “Smaller bites, John! You’re not an animal.” “Mom” ordered.

“Doh!” Tabitha shouted at John, having wrested the spoon from her mom and pointing it accusingly at him; John and “Mom” broke into laughter at that.

John cleaned up after dinner while “Mom” took care of Tabitha. She argued he didn’t have to do chores on his first night home, but John broke his promise to himself from earlier. “I will do what I can for you,” He insisted.

“I know,” She said. “Thank you for everything.”

Tabitha finally found rest and “Mom” placed her in her crib upstairs. She helped John put away his clothes after showing him to his room. His room had previously been a guest room she had hurriedly prepared for him before having arrived at the hospital to collect him. “Goodnight, John.” She said to him as soon as he made himself comfortable in his bed.

“Goodnight, mother,” He replied.

She left his room for her own bed and some much-deserved sleep. John tried falling asleep and closed his eyes; he tuned out the rustle of leaves outside his window. He ignored the mating call of crickets in the yard. Slowly, but surely, the world faded away from him and he become numb and unreachable. He expected to sleep peacefully and to experience happy dreams rather than the nightmares that plagued both his sleeping and waking world.

He soon felt a chill that reminded him of what he was and he trembled not in fear, but in sorrow. He knew he could not escape it despite the hours he spent trying to avoid it and the truth. He wanted more than anything to forget and to leave it all behind. He wanted to live here in his new home with a mother and a baby sister. It was more than he had ever asked for and he now had it, but how could he possibly hold onto all he had ever wanted while knowing what lurked inside him?

He embraced the thing within his being and he opened his eyes; he stood up and went to the edge of the room where he flicked on the light; he did not want to see, but he had to see it. He saw the darker than darkness flowing over his body like a cold fire. He felt the power it granted him and it both frightened and excited him.

He heard something crunch from just outside his room and he rushed out in anger, suspecting an intruder. He discovered “Coach” passively eating an apple; he looked the same as he did before. “Nice place you got here,” He said. “It won’t last you know.” John shook his head, trying to deny the man’s words; he even willed his aura to vanish and, in an instant, it did as he wished with only a few residual and dissipating black curls. “You’ve gotten better at controlling your ki, I see,” He said, sounding slightly impressed.

“Leave me alone,” John hissed; not wishing to wake “Mom” or Tabitha. “I want nothing to do with you or your wretched tournament! I’m happy now!”

“I told you what will happen to you,” “Coach” said, shaking his head. “I told you, you only took out the runt of the litter. You saw what he could do, but you still don’t understand.” He sounded threatening in that moment.

“You better leave these people alone,” John whispered.

“I have no interest in them, just you, but if you choose to play house, what do you think is going to happen when your thirty days are up and they come looking for you?” “Coach” asked. “These people have no regard for human life; they care only for money and the ways to get it and they know just like you know that the dirtier the method the bigger the take.”

John realized then that he could not stay with the woman professing to be his mother and he couldn’t be around the infant he had saved once already. All the joy and excitement he had experienced that day dissolved with the cold and cruel reality of his situation. He remembered feeling as though he were dreaming and he currently found himself feeling as though he had woken from a dream and things were suddenly worse than ever before.

“Coach” sensed his train of thought as he observed his face. “Let’s go; you have much to learn and I have much to teach you.” John nodded solemnly and followed him out of the house.

“I’ll do what I can for you, mother,” John said as he locked and closed the door behind him.