I'm lazy and I admit the fact that I'm lazy. Always searching for some cosy position where I can lay down for hours and not do anything; even the things that I really want to do. For someone like me to find my dream mate is too hard. What made this challenge harder was the fact that it was a girl, possibly my soulmate. I know I'm exaggerating it a bit. Forgive me.
I sometimes wake up quite early in the morning but often overlook this routine and again go to bed as soon as I can. Late-night motivation and enthusiasm to change my life completely shut their doors in the morning, disabling me to work on things that can only be done at that time. Such as exercise, some academic work, or some writing; but I just can't feel like it.
I also realized that the addition of the next words began when I stumbled upon that girl. But I think it was a coincidence.
'For her to be my soulmate is of no chance. It'd be a miracle for someone like her to like me.' I thought, also pitying my own unluckiness.
Draco arrived at my home last night and we read our current reads together and afterwards discussed them. My cat, Lisa, often minds me doing something meaningful. While I'm away, she's lurking around the house or sleeping like a good cat, but real stuff begins with me coming home.
I talked to my father if he minds me going to school on my own and he agreed. After all, it isn't even half an hour's walk.
I buy some coffee on the way the next day because a good cup of coffee a day keeps my laziness away (Truer than an apple a day keeps the doctor away). The city of Intra is also a pretty famous tourist spot, which intrigues me. Every street corner is filled with interracial, intercultural, and interethnic restaurants. One may find all sorts of things from all over the world in this one city.
On the way comes Draco's house which was quite near ours. One glance at his house told me he was lucky not to get spoiled by such rich parents. Draco told me about his sister and how she's really into psychology and about his brother who was in the army. While I didn't have much to tell about my siblings' persuits, due to them still being in their education, I told him about how much I loved my sister and how I like to annoy her. In this wide world with little to no understanding and spiritual people left, it's a satisfaction to find people like Draco.
'Draco, what do you say about Love?' I asked after taking a sip from my coffee.
'That's a weird question to ask.' He replied while taking a sip from his coffee.
'You think love's weird?'
'No, I just think what we make of love is weird.'
'And ho- take care kid. How exactly?' I ask while stumbling upon a ball thrown by a kid in front of a shop.
'See, love seems like a flower with no spikes, a test with no questions but mere answers, a kid who doesn't cry, a heart that doesn't beat and isn't bound to die out someday. We want it to be perfect. No exceptions accepted. But when it occurs to us that it's impossible, we cry or we kill. To love is to realise that it's a flower with spikes: which will hurt you but make you stronger. It's a test with some easy and some tough questions, and love will live on only by handling such questions and answering them. It's a kid who does cry to tell that they're hungry, or that they're in pain, or that they yearn for the presence of their mother. You have to make the one you love to feel that hunger, pain, and yearning; while also feeling the same towards them. It's a heart that beats every time there's a dispute solved between lovers, which causes their love to reach greater heights.'
'You really make it straightforward for me.' I say with an evidently astonished face.
Unlike me, Draco has had some really terrible experiences. When I went to his home, his sister knew I was getting really close to her brother. So she told me about how Draco experienced bullying and had been sexually harassed as a child. Proving even more saddening, was the fact that he had lost his mother 5 years ago when he was only 14. But luckily, his stepmother's really caring and loving.
We reached school with little to no idea that today was our book reading day but we forgot to bring ours. Sometimes in excessive excitement, we forget even the stuff we love the most. Perhaps that's why when we get the things that we yearn for, cry for, and sometimes, die for, we forget to think about the One who gave them to us. This goes to show how foolish our nature as humans is.
Not that I don't enjoy reading; it's a perpetual source of pleasure for me. But today, for some reason or other I wasn't feeling like it. Usually, when I wake up early, I read, but today when I wanted to, I just laid there for an hour straight. Now that I've known that I share a dream with someone, or that someone might know as well, I can't sleep well.
Draco had some work to do at the Library before the reading period, so I lurked around the campus. I eventually entered the Library after getting kicked out of a women's toilet, which I accidentally mistook because the board outside was broken.
I enter and immediately head for the classics' section. I wasn't in the mood so I lurked around it too. I found a weird ripped-off cloth-bound book which was quite old, perhaps like 50 years. But since I took a great liking to such editions, I sat down at the nearest table and opened it. It was empty, except for the first page.
'O, the one who's opened this book; know that this book shall not befit the ordinary. The sharing of dreams is a matter of extreme competency. You have to be the chosen one. Drop a drop of blood on one of the torn parts and then if the words appear, you would be the chosen one.'
I immediately put the book down.
'How utterly, keenly, sheerly, solely and terribly idiot a person should be to read this book and especially follow the absurd instructions in it!' I cursed and said.
But I wanted something to intrigue me so I became that idiot.
I took a sharpener and then broke it. I then removed the blade inside and put a small cut on my finger, enough to drop a drop of blood on the torn part.
Nothing happened.
But I wanted to be a greater idiot so I brought that book to my class for the reading period.
I told Draco about it and such was his reply.
'What a preposterous thing to do!' No wonder.
I laughed for most of the period since no one read besides us two. Then we went out to the lawn. We sat on one of the benches and also grabbed a snack on the way. I opened the chips packet and afterwards, the book.
'What in the freakin' skies?!' I cry
'What?'
'Nothin'!'
I calm myself and say nothing even though I was utterly shocked by what I saw. The book, almost 400 pages long, was filled to its very core. Even on the cover, there were some instructions regarding the book. Weird of all, there was my name above them.
'O, how lucky for poor me to serve some dreamer after eternities. Are you a dreamer, young Shelly? I'm sure you are. Your blood tasted quite young and it was hot as hell. Keep yourself cool, alright? But now that you've finally gone and gotten this book out, or rather it was fate, I think that you should know some little and simple things about this thing in your hand. It was written by an old guy a long time ago, but no great amount of dreamers really found me. Now go on page number 43 for more information.'
I immediately emptied the pack of chips and went to page 43.
'Now, Mr Shelly, the last time I was read by someone was 489 years ago, to be precise. This book was meant to bind two souls. You might think soulmates don't exist, it's quite foolish of you if you do, for you believe in God, and as my author says in the book 'Fool is the one that denies the One!' I get you. That old wizard died 2 years after finishing this book but made 3 copies and sent them to all three continents. I'm the third and the last one. One of my brothers in the Library of Alexandria was burnt during you know what. My second brother in Baghdad was burnt brutally by Moongoals. And I scarcely survived.'
It went on the next page and all of the stuff written immediately faded.
'Yours is this book to take care of now and you're probably bored of this little meaningless history. So, let us start with Dreams.'
The book forced itself to shut and I almost left my finger in it. The title 'Dreams' appeared on the cover, carved and filled with gold in front of my naked eye. In the place of the author was: Intrastra Kyulivanto. 'A strange name.' I thought. But not stranger than this German man called Hubert Blaine Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff.
'Welcome, whoever you might be, I wrote this book when I met the love of my life. As you might've guessed, I also saw those dreams. A thing you have in common with this old guy, hahaha.'
I felt like there was an old guy with a long beard and a dry sense of humour, talking to me like a grandpa. Grandpa's stories, perhaps, are one of the things that never age. They were the same in the times of Alexander The Great, in the Really Dark Ages, or in the Age of Enlightenment. They tell their old tales with such exaggeration that a senseless child cannot help but laugh at those unfunny or sometimes double-meaning jokes.
'Indeed, this matter is of great perplexity for the one seeing the Dreams. Should you find yourself in the search of that sharer, leave it. Abandon the effort. Let Fate Do It. That's what I told myself while I was idiotic enough to try it. I didn't find it till I stopped searching for it.
I've summarised all of my writings in various forms: poetry and prose poetry. Poetry because some things are better explained in it, and prose poetry because I can't always rhyme.
So let me end this with a short poem for you, my reader.'
I'm shocked by its absurdity and I was like 'Can this old man please keep it simple?'
But I continue on.
'Wisdom from this book shall you know;
And your dreams shall grow.
So in love's field, you shall sow;
All that you and your heart should know.
At last when you shall reap your field;
You shall undergo love's taste from its flour.
Indeed for the one that you shall steal;
Will mean the cosmos for your soul.'
I could make everything out of it except what he meant by stealing. I'm not going to steal anybody. But if it soothes them and me, so be it.
I wanted to continue the book but the bell rang and we headed for our Chemistry class. I had gotten permission from our Librarian beforehand. On the way, I saw that same girl heading to the same section as myself. She sat just 2 seats behind me. I realised that I didn't glance back even once since I came here. I didn't even sense her presence. 'Smart girl!' I thought.
Indeed it was of no use; trying to read the book in class, for it was our first test today. Our Chemistry teacher, Sir Shelby White, has some agitation for starting our tests so early on. We tried our best to avoid it: since both I and Draco absolutely despised Chemistry.
After half an hour-long trial, we finally headed for our break. I bought chewing gum and walked to the school pavement slowly while pondering the book.
'I shall know wisdom from such an old guy whom I don't even know as someone important in history.' I thought.
I then went home after 2 more periods of suffering with Sir Shelby because our Biology teacher went to his cousin's marriage. This period; was full of silent shouts and curses from all around the class. There was nothing likeable about Sir Shelby except that he was quite a handsome gentleman. The girls were particularly lacking the enthusiasm to curse out at him, though some of them don't miss a chance to insult a boy in front of the class or silently curse the Spanish teacher, Miss Laura, who was quite famous in our class. Amongst the boys, obviously.
Nothing, in particular, went good that day. I found a weird book which knows my name and which certainly makes me creep. I loitered aimlessly in my mind for most of the day. But indeed—for I was still on the way home—a good cup of coffee can make one feel all their stress melting like butter.