A 16 Year Old's Dream Chapter 3

Story
Maya left her house despite the cold weather. She put on a down jacket over some gym clothes and a beanie on her head. She did not forget her mittens. She needs to hold onto Tom Tom's leash. Tom Tom was her pet pitbull. She had found him in the alley by Tom's Coffeehouse at the entrance of her neighborhood, and so named him Tom Tom. She tended to name things based on her mood.

The pitbull was so strong and energetic that he would become very antsy indoors if she didn't take him out for a walk in the park, even in the winter time. There weren't many people at the park, possibly because of the weather. They passed by the few people who had come with their dogs. Every time Tom Tom encountered another dog, he became aggressive. He would even go straight for breeds that were three times bigger than him, like a Siberian husky. Maya held on tight to his leash, fearing that he could be swallowed up in one gulp.

She sat down on a bench and threw him strips of meat. Despite having walked the entirety of the park, thirty minutes had hardly passed by. It was a small park. It even had a tiny fountain that was not in operation during the winter for fear the pipes would freeze. When it was on, it was like watching a small spring. Even the trees were small and thin.

"Everything here is small. I would've made everything big if it were up to me."

She seems to like things that are big and beautiful. She imagines this and that in her mind, a new look for a new park. She's coughing. She's getting cold just sitting here. Tom Tom stopped chewing on his piece of meat and looked up at Maya. It's too noisy to eat, he seemed to be protesting. There were bits of meat left, but she pulled on his leash and headed for home.

Tom Tom whimpered as he picked up the remaining pieces of meat with his mouth and followed her. He was small, but heavy. ***

She plays with her dolls at night. No matter how many times she counts them, the three from the previous night are still missing. Opening up the attic, the attic itself had returned to normal. The narrow space was filled to the brim with overlapping stacks of books and dusty desks. The attic was so small that it was hard to move around in there. She broke through the dust, looking for those dolls, but they would just not appear.

"I wonder if Cry Baby got her arm fixed yet," she was both worried and curious. She takes out Coco. Her most favorite doll was still here.

According to her aunt, this doll once played a prince in the puppet theater. Its clothing appeared high quality and heavily ornamented, fit for an aristocrat. She thought her aunt had said the remaining original dolls could not be obtained. She wondered what story they were from. She imagines.

Every time she thought up a story, it would change. Once upon a time, it was a story about a prince who saved a princess locked away in a tower, while at another time, the prince had been turned into a frog. She also felt like she had seen this doll somewhere before, but she put that thought out of her mind.

Maya put down the doll she had been holding, sat down at her desk, and picked up a pen and a diary. She seems ready to write a journal entry. There wasn't much to write about since school was out for the semester. She writes about last night's dream instead. Every bit of it was still fresh in her mind. She had not forgotten the feel of stardust, Mr. Super's blinding white hot light, and the refreshing scent of the vast universe.

She decided to lie down and write from her bed. She must be cold by the way she wrapped herself up in her blankets. As she thought about Tom Tom, Coco, the three missing dolls, and the meteor, Maya fell asleep, her hand hanging out from her open window. Previous: Chapter 2 || Next: Chapter 4