Chapter 5: A Hard to Believe Reality

Is that really him? Such a thought constantly echoed through her head.

Shirley Polaris was in a state of disbelief. She felt as if she was stuck in a never-ending dream.

Her chest heaved up and down, each iteration accompanied with a puff of cold air. The sound of her breathing was like booming thunder striking against her eardrums.

Is it another nightmare again?

If it was, then it wouldn’t exactly be the first time. In fact, nightmares were a constant addition to Shirley’s nightly routine.

It had started a week after he had vanished. Vivid dreams that felt so real, that they kept her up at night. In fact, that was partly the reason why she was always late for class. She suffered from insomnia. At night, she lay awake, too afraid to sleep, while during the day, her already weak body was prone to collapse.

Just today, she had fallen asleep in the middle of her math class. When she woke up, the room was empty and the last period of the day had already started. Although she felt bad about falling asleep in class, in actuality, she did not actually mind. After all, the nightmares don’t come out during the day.

Or at least, they weren’t supposed to. So why? Why was she seeing him here?

She stared listlessly at his silhouette.

Her dreams always started like this, with him somewhere in the room.

Standing by a rusty swing set in the middle of an old park, or sitting down beside her within an empty passenger car, they were always based off of her experiences, off of the shared memories that she held dearest. What should have been fun and happy memories, twisted and contorted, transforming into something ugly and malignant.

A large majority of her dreams took place inside her bedroom.

The tables and chairs were arranged all around the room, while her bed was pushed off to the corner. Soft moonlight illuminated the space. Blankets draped the surroundings, and underneath it all was a little space, just barely large enough for two kids to squeeze into.

A fort made out of pillows and blankets. It was a dream built out of one of her fondest childhood memories.

The two had been friends ever since first grade, but not everything was sunshines and rainbows. Sometimes, they argued. During one particular argument, the two of them wanted to do something different with the blanket fort that they had built. Shirley wanted to play house, while he wanted to play knights and dragons.

In the end, they reached a compromise. The blanket fort became both a majestic castle and a lovely home. Shirley was the mother that also happened to be the queen, while he was the king that also happened to be the father. They spent the rest of the day playing, lost in their own little world.

In the dream, things played out differently.

The fort was still there, and he was still inside, but it wasn’t right anymore. He had grown up. His body was now too big for the fort, yet he still somehow wriggled his way inside. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his face obscured by a low hanging quilt blanket. On his lap was a crown, a real crown with a golden frame and multi-colored adornments.

He, the man in the fort, beckoned towards her. His outstretched hand appeared pale and spotty. Sick. It was the hand of a sick, dying man. Every time, without fail, Shirley would be overwhelmed by this innate desire to reach out and grab him.

Still, no matter how hard she tried, she never could succeed.

The distance between them exponentially increased with each inch that she covered. The ground beneath her feet broke, the carpeted floor cracking and churning, before it rolled back as if someone had suddenly pulled the rug from underneath her. It dragged Shirley farther and farther away, and no matter how fast she ran, she was never fast enough.

Eventually, the fort and the man with it disappeared from sight.

Every night, she watched the same scene and ever time, she was overcome by this feeling of helplessness. That apathetic smile of his was always the last thing she saw, before abruptly waking up.

Right now, she felt as if she was in a similar dream. Although it was still daylight, and although the setting was different, the inexplicable panic was definitely there. She could not believe what her own eyes were telling her.

I’m asleep… I’m dreaming again… it’s this dream again… I don’t want this dream again…

She felt the world collapsing in on itself. Shirley’s breathing turned haggard. Her face reddened as faint tears accumulated in the corners of her eyes. Her chest suddenly felt stuffy, like something had entwined itself all around her. It constricted, slowly tightening, slowly squeezing out every molecule of air from her lungs.

When she looked down, she found her arms had turned twisted. They were like the branches of a decaying tree. At the same time, her fingers cracked and chipped, resembling something similar to gnarled wood.

She felt light-headed and noxious. Blood rushed to her face. What was happening? Was any of this real? Or was it simply just another dream?

In the end, for all her fears and speculations, it all came back to one question; was that really him?

A part of her did not believe so. A part of her stubbornly rejected that notion.

She knew it was too good to be true, she knew that her wishes could not be accomplished so easily, and most importantly, she had already suffered enough in the last seven months to know not to get her hopes up.

Shirley might be panicking right now, but a part of her was surprisingly cold and rational.

She had immediately judged that the man who looked like him was nothing more than another figment of her imagination. For her, such a thing was actually quite commonplace. Originally, Shirley possessed a pretty overactive imagination, and ever since that time, she started seeing… things, things that weren’t real. Calling them hallucinations might not be the most accurate term, but it was something similar.

So, even with a look-alike in the room, she did not naively believe it to be him. But… even if it wasn’t really him, she still stared. She couldn’t help herself. It was inevitable. After all, Shirley really did miss him.

The noise of the classroom, the sound of the scribbling pencils, even Mr. Hong’s weathered voice, all of it transformed into a numb buzzing. She stared listlessly at the youth.

He sat by an opened window, a slight breeze ruffling his hair. He was dressed in a light grey tracksuit. It was standard issue, something that the school handed out for gym classes. Valery Height’s emblem was stitched to its shoulders.

The tracksuit was ill-fitting. It was a size too big for his him, and made him appear bloated and pudgy. Still, Shirley did not mind. Her attention was focused solely on the youth’s face. From this angle, she could only see his side profile, but that was enough. A slightly angled nose, pale olive colored skin, and dark brown eyes. Those were all familiar traits. Those were all his traits.

His most distinguishable feature was his hair. Black hair that drooped down to his eyebrows. It was unkempt, and slightly resembled a bird’s nest. Thinking about it now, he never did comb his hair. Shirley breathed out a long puff of air. Staring at him like this, her panic somewhat softened. An incomplete smile floated to her face.

She never admitted it, but she always did find his disheveled look somewhat endearing.

Theodore Harp… Brother Theo… Theo…

His name kept cycling through her head like a broken record player. All of it was familiar. All of it was him. Still, she refused to give in. The him that she knew of disappeared seven months ago. The him now… that wasn’t real, that was all her, a result of her constant longing. None of it… he… he wasn’t real.

But… what if he was?

Shirley sank into silence. Her eyes remained fixed on his figure, but there was no light within her gaze.

As for Theo himself, right now his lips twisted into a bitter smile. For the majority of the period, his eyes were fixed to the front of the classroom, but on occasion, he would momentarily turn back and quietly observe his long-lost childhood friend.

The things that he saw only made him worry.

Shirley’s face blushed as if she had just stepped out of a sauna. Originally, she was the type of girl that blushed easily. It was a somewhat cute quirk of hers that he thought matched quite well with the red in her hair, but this was different. Right now, that small quirk was dialed up to an eleven.

From her neck down, and all the way to the tips of her earlobes, she was red. He felt as if he was watching a ripe tomato overheating. In addition, beads of sweat dripped down the side of her cheeks, while large teardrops gathered in the corners of her eyes. With her lower lip quivering erratically like that, it really did look as if she was trying her hardest not to cry.

Theo was not blind. After seeing her fluctuating expression, he had a vague grasp on her current mood.

He let out a soft sigh.

To his understanding, Shirley was rather soft and weak-willed, sort of like a persimmon. She cried easily, and sweated more often than most girls, especially during stressful situations. She was just that sort of person; a nervous wreck and a shy kitten all wrapped up into one conveniently packaged bag of flesh.

Honestly, she was a handful, but she was his handful.

I kind of have a feeling as to why she’s like that, but what can I do to fix it?

He thought for a moment before he ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook that he had gotten from inside his desk. He crumbled it up into a small ball and waited until Mr. Hong turned towards the board, before he chucked it across the room.

It majestically flew through the air like a fired missile.

Plop!

His first shot missed, so he tried again.

Thunk!

This time, it hit the mark. The crumbled ball bounced off the top of Shirley’s forehead.

Almost immediately, the foggy glint in her eyes disappeared. Shirley looked around the room in confusion. What was that? What just hit me? Eventually, her eyes finally turned towards him. The moment their eyes met, Theo let out a smile. He hoped his smile came off as reassuring, something that might ease her mind and stop her from panicking.

To his delight, her expression softened.

She stared absentmindedly at him with this sort of empty gaze. She did not say anything, and for a moment, Theo started worrying again, but then, she shook her head and furrowed her brow. Her gaze was still fixed on him, but now, it contained with it a hint of motivation.

She parted her lips and stopped. She looked as if she was on the verge of saying something, but hesitated.

After a few arduous minutes passed with Mr. Hong explaining in the background about how the black plague popularized a few modern medical practices, Shirley eventually mouthed something out. Of course, Theo couldn't understand what she had said. He was many things, but he was not an expert lip reader. He tilted his head, and pondered for a moment, before he ultimately shook his head, and mouthed back, “I don’t understand.”

This time, it was Shirley’s turn to look confused. She did not understand what he had said either, and for that matter, she was also unsure whether or not he had successfully received her first message. In the end, she realized that this was a terrible way to communicate, and an even worse way to confirm whether this was all just a dream or actual reality.

She stared at Theo.

Her brows wriggled while the glimmer in her eyes intensified. Although she had not done so on purpose, Theo felt as if she was trying to convey a message to him solely using eye contact. He let out a faint smile. He recalled the fact Shirley had always been a proponent of the ‘friendship trumps all’ ideology. In her eyes (and in her exact words), she had once confidently stated that, “As long as we’re close enough friends, then even communicating through eye contact is possible! You know, just like in the movies!”

Of course, those words had been spoken by a 2nd grader, but he felt that even as a kid, she was overly naïve. No, naïve wasn’t quite the right word. Shirley was idealistic. When she grew older, that idealism did not disappear, she simply got better at hiding it. But since it was her, she could never truly hide anything from him.

He had remembered his own response back then to her happy go lucky statement.

“What happens when I can’t understand?”

“You will understand.”

“But what if I won’t.”

“You definitely will.”

Looking back on it now, he couldn’t help but praise Shirley’s childhood self. With just a glance, he really did feel as if he knew exactly what she was thinking of; her eyes wanted an explanation.

He did not know the exact amount, but the two had been staring at each other for quite some time now. If it was anyone else, he would have felt quite awkward, but since it was Shirley, his only reaction was to let out a bitter sigh.

He knew what was bugging her. How could he not? He had vanished for seven months. No explanation, no goodbye, no nothing. Knowing her, she probably worried herself half to death throughout those seven months. To top it all off, he suddenly showed up here in class, as if nothing had happened. Shock was just the start to the rollercoaster of emotions she was probably feeling.

Theo wanted to give her an appropriate answer, but he was caught in a dilemma. Should he lie and make something up or should he tell her the truth? If he told her the truth, how much of it should he tell? How much of the truth would she even believe?

He eventually opted to wait until class was over. This way, he could buy himself some time to organize his thoughts.

Unfortunately, Shirley could not wait that long. She had waited seven months already, she was not in the mood to wait any longer. Even if this wasn’t the real Theo, this was the only Theo that she had met within the last seven months that actually interacted back with her.

She riled herself up. Right now, she was determined to ring out this ghost for everything that he was worth. If at all possible, she wanted to confront this representation of her repressed subconscious and tell it to quit bothering her all the damned time!

She wiped her face with the scruff of her sleeves. Her brows scrunched, while her nostrils suddenly flared up. Theo’s left eye involuntarily twitched. For some reason, this girl’s earlier panic had transformed into anger. For such a small and helpless person, she was definitely one with a myriad of emotions.

Her small cheeks inflated, as her lips puckered. Theo stared at her pouting expression from a distance. Instead of looking intimidating or furious, he thought it looked cute. Cute and nostalgic.

Still, he responded with nothing more than a shrug. He knew how she got, he was not willing to be the thing that she used to vent out her anger.

Seeing his attitude, Shirley nearly exploded.

His uppity attitude pissed her off! This ghost, this figment of imagination sure did have a lot of nerve, especially considering how it was acting towards someone who was essentially its creator. She wanted to go over there and give that thing a piece of her mind!

Yet, at the same time, she felt like this sort of nonchalant demeanor made the ghost before her realer than any of the others from before. From the way his shoulders slouched to the half-smile that hung on his lips… it was all him. A warmth seeped into her heart.

Theo was always like that, she recalled. A guy who took things in stride… no, that wasn’t quite right. He was a gloomy guy who worried about everything. His calm attitude was the façade that he put on for the rest of the world. Even now, he did the same, but such a thing could never escape Shirley’s eyes. She knew him too well for that to happen.

Even now she could tell that his current attitude was merely another façade. There was something that he kept hidden, and she was determined to find out what.

She thought for a moment.

Shirley carefully scanned her surroundings, before she pulled out her phone and texted something from underneath the cover of her desk. As she furiously typed away, she would occasionally glance back up at Theo. Meeting his inquisitive gaze, the fire in her heart only intensified.

My dreams always emulate reality, so something like this should work… She inwardly thought to herself, although by this point, she only half-believed that she was still hallucinating.

After a few seconds, she clicked send, and looked up at him with expectation. She quietly waited, but as the seconds turned to minutes, nothing happened.

Did he ignore me? Or maybe he doesn’t have a phone?

Theo did not have a phone. Even when Shirley was furiously typing away, he still did not make the connection that she was trying to communicate with him.

She let out a sigh. She felt disappointed but quickly snapped out of it after Theo threw another paper ball at her. It bounced off her forehead, prompting Shirley to glare at him in annoyance. Seeing the half smile etched on his lips, she realized that the ghost was trying to cheer her up.

“…”

Shirley gnawed on her lower lip. She hesitated for a moment, before she decided to try one last time.

She was wondering what she should do next when her eyes landed on the crumpled ball of paper that had fallen onto the floor. She took a notebook and ripped out a slip of paper before she scribbled something down. After she finished, she smiled somewhat confidently, and carefully folded the note into a small little square. She paused for a second, before she then wrote ‘To Theo’ on the cover.

Shirley did not plan to throw her note across the room like what Theo had done. She was not all that confident at being able to hit the mark as accurately as he could. Instead, she planned to pass it along.

Just as she was about to put her plan into action, her face stiffened. At the crux of the plan, she abruptly stopped. A conflicted frown twisted her lips.

Having watched her from afar, Theo had already expected this outcome. If there was one thing that he remembered about Shirley, it was her shyness. There was a reason why Theo and her were friends. One of them was socially inept, while the other had crippling social anxiety. They were simply two peas in a pod. Of course, Shirley was the latter.

She stared helplessly at the person seated in front of her. Shirley’s hand hovered over his shoulder. She played it out in her head. It was a simple course of actions; say hi, give him the note, and tell him to pass it along to the guy sitting by the window. It was quick, simple and easy, but she could not do it.

Her hand remained suspended in the air. If it wasn’t for the pale hue of her skin, then one could have easily mistaken her for an unmoving ice sculpture.

Just then, the student in front of her noticed her hand. He jumped back in his seat and turned around to look at Shirley. Almost instantly, Shirley’s face reddened as she quickly retracted her hand, and curled up into a ball. Her face was pressed to her desk, while her arms covered the top of her head.

The bewildered youth stared at her for a few seconds, before he turned back around to face the front of the room.

Seeing the little act that had just played out in front of him like that, Theo could not hold back his laughter. Through his squinted eyes, he could almost envision the dark clouds hovering over her head.

Shirley let out a despondent sigh. After checking to see that the student had turned back, she lifted her head and noticed Theo silently laughing like a madman. She reproachfully glared at him, but unfortunately, she had no means of retaliation.

Left with no other choice, she could do nothing but bitterly give up.

Theo eventually calmed down, and let out a faint, slightly helpless smile. With no other options left at her disposal, he inwardly hoped that she would finally give up and wait until class finished.

****

An hour and forty minutes later, the bell finally rang.

Theo let out a sigh. School ended peacefully just like that. He felt a budding happiness in his heart. He had returned back to Plume, and even got to experience a taste of the life that he had left behind all those years back. Even if he was a stone-cold killer, any man would be happy at such an outcome.

He stared out at the window. The sun had begun set and rays of soft orange illuminated the skyline. A day full of commotion, yet at the same time, it was the most peaceful day that he had ever had the pleasure of experiencing during the last twenty-five years or so of his life. He sincerely hoped that such days would continue from now on.

As he was about to get up and leave, his shoulders stiffened. He suddenly remembered something. Theo turned his head, just in time to see a red-haired girl with rounded spectacles barreling towards him.