I Dream of Yellow Kites: What if it was all just a nightmare?

  Copyright © 2016 by Retta Bono

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, , and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, or events is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1530272211

  ISBN-10: 1530272211

  Printed in the United States of America

  {One}

  They say that before you die, your whole life flashes before you like a dream. But maybe, for me, it was only a dream to begin with.

  Some people say that the weather represents our emotions. Rain equals sadness, sunshine equals happiness, thunderstorms equal anger, snow equals peace.

  Life wouldn't be possible without all the different kinds of weather. The same goes for our emotions. No one can live a life of all peace and happiness. No one can live on a planet that only has sunshine and snow.

  My name is Dahlia Adler, girl of many dreams and many lost hopes. Some call me an optimist. Others, a pessimist. And now comes the part where I should argue that I'm a realist. But what is reality? While it's objective, the way reality is perceived is often quite subjective. Some days, I shove my worries out the window and focus on the good. Other days, it's not so simple. An unexplained cloud hangs over my head, and I think to myself that no matter what, something bad will happen after something good does.

  In the end, all I have to do is view time relatively. Because after something bad happens, something good will. It goes in a circle like that until I'm completely dizzy.

  Am I sad with happiness underneath? Or happy with sadness underneath? It's like wondering if zebras are black with white stripes or white with black stripes. You choose.

  I'm choosing both.

  Here is my story.

  On October 5th, 1991 at 4:30 in the morning, the population of Portland, Maine increased by one. I was born laughing and crying at the same time, and if that doesn't represent me to this day then I don't know what does. I loved being around people, trying new things, and having an exciting time. I also felt everything deeply, and I liked to spend time by myself outdoors, just quietly thinking. My mind was full of all sorts of thoughts, and I didn't know the meaning of the word 'bored.'

  As soon as I could talk, I entertained my family with ridiculous and lavishly detailed stories and thoughts. My older brother, Jack, said I was the human personification of a unicorn. My little sister, Daisy, worshipped the ground I walked on. My parents without a doubt loved all three of us equally, and we grew up well-rounded and wholly ourselves.

  Jack, who was four years older than me, was my role model. He got good grades, put his best effort into everything he did, and was kind to everyone around him. At the same time, he was upbeat and full of life , and managed to live just enough on the edge to have fun and live life to the fullest without ever endangering himself or those around him. He taught me how to roll with the punches. How to accept whatever came my way with a sense of humor.

  The most important thing Jack ever taught me was that there are no coincidences. He sat me down one summer morning when I was twelve and had me watch Signs.

  I will never forget that movie and the impact it had on my life because after it was over, he said, "Dahlia, do you understand the point of this movie? It's not about aliens, or the end of the world, or signs appearing in cornfields. It's about the way God works.

  There are no coincidences, Dahlia. Everything happens for a reason. "

  Whenever something unexpected or unwanted happened, I would always remember that day.

  Daisy was four years younger than me, and the quintessential baby of the family. Jack and I would have protected her with our lives, and she knew it. Daisy and I were almost nothing alike. Things that bothered me rarely bothered her, and things that bothered her seldom bothered me. When I had a problem, I would usually go off by myself for a time to work things out. Daisy would sit there like a small flame about to ignite a huge fire, spitting out sparks if you looked at her. I was adventurous, she was a homebody with a comfort zone like no other.

  The one thing that we had in common was our curiosity about almost everything. Daisy was curious about me. She couldn't understand how fearless I was, and it fascinated her. At the same time, her lack of wanderlust enthralled (disgusted) me. Daisy made almost no sense to me, and often infuriated me, but I loved her anyway. I loved all of my family, and I wouldn't have changed them a bit.

  ~August 21st, 2007~

  A loud, irritating noise came from the other side of my room as I awoke. Just my alarm going off. The world isn't ending.

  The persistent beeping of an alarm clock really is a sound like no other. It awakens you to reality with a jolt, shoves you back into the crazy loop of life. Of cold mornings, and the stresses of a busy day. Gone is the sweet world of dreams- here to stay is another day in the real world.

  No one likes to be pulled out of a perfect dream. But alarm clocks and seemingly bleak mornings lead to good days as well as bad, to accomplishments, to second chances, to new friends. And for every tragedy- a miracle.

  Like when my aunt's house burned down when I was 9.

  "What's Aunt Karen going to do now? Where's she going to live?" I had asked my mother, my eyes wide and brain frazzled. I just couldn't believe that someone's house could actually burn down. I couldn't believe how calm everyone was about it.

  "She's moving back to Chicago- already found a job and everything," my mother had reassured me.

  My aunt was happy in Chicago. Happier than she'd been in Charleston. My Aunt Karen, who had often looked so tired and empty, was now full of life. She had opened her own cafe, met my Uncle Patrick, and made many wonderful friends. Her health was impeccable and her life was enviable from many standpoints.

  When she came to visit us at Christmas, we could barely recognize her because she was so different. So improved.

  I had never met this person, this new Aunt Karen, before.

  "Guess her house burning down turned out to be a good thing," my dad had joked.

  Maybe it was. Maybe she never would have gotten her miracle without her tragedy.

  ***

  Do you ever hear one of those little voices in your head that says, today is going to be spectacular. You are spectacular. You can do anything.

  That day was one of those days. Which was good, because I would be starting at a new high school in less than an hour.

  "Dahlia, sophomore year is crazy. You're going to love it," Jack teased me at breakfast.

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "Sophomore year. Sophomore attitude. You're ready for it. You’ve got the sass. That know-it-all vibe-" Jack couldn't finish his sentence because he was too busy trying to shield himself from the napkins I was throwing at him.

  "Napkins? Really?"

  "Yes really. Gotta go." I smirked and walked out the door.

  Was I really an annoying know-it-all? That was better than not knowing anything, right?

  {Two}

  ~June 30th, 2008~

  "High school, my dear, is one of the scariest times in anyone's life." This was coming from my cousin Abby, who had just graduated and felt very wise.

  "It can also be one of the best
adventures in anyone's life. You go from being an awkward freshman, to being a carefree sophomore. Now you're a junior, so you're probably worrying about grades and college applications. Finally, you'll be a senior and you'll just want to graduate. Like, all you'll think about is leaving."

  "Abby, you probably felt that way every day of the four years you were in high school," I had said while rolling my eyes.

  "True. You know, Dahlia, I miss that place every day."

  It's true, though. In high school, you find your priorities. Your interests. Your weaknesses and strengths.

  There! Do I sound like a realist yet? There's good and bad in life. I'm going to keep saying it until everyone believes it. Until I believe it myself. Really believe it. Believe it so deeply that I dream about it.

  I would tell you my favorite memory from high school, but there's too many to pick just one. There was the time in junior year when some of us got to sit in on the freshman's classes. Or in sophomore year, when our math teacher took us zip-lining because, it's sort of mathematical, right? Maybe the time in freshman year when we decided to lie on the floor and take a nap during science. And our teacher actually didn't care. And somehow someone found tons of pillows.

  There's also many horrible memories that I'd like to forget- like the time a girl in my class totaled her car and we sat there for what seemed like forever waiting to hear if she was okay. Or the time in freshman year when some Junior girls publicly humiliated me. Or the numerous times we had to give recitations in literature class and my brain decided to stop working.

  But anyway, let's go back again to sophomore year.

  Since it was 2007, those track suits with short sleeves in bright purples and blues were all the rage. I don't know how that ever happened, to be honest, but they were. And I was wearing one. Ugh. I don't miss them one bit.

  My mom, who was a successful travel agent, informed me I would be riding the bus today, and after making sure I looked perfect and that I had thrown every napkin in the house at Jack, I walked to the bus stop.

  When I stepped onto the bus, I heard an excited gasp to my left.

  "Oh my gosh! Look! We match," cried the girl. She had long black hair, which looked striking contrasted with the boldness of her purple tracksuit. The same one I was wearing.

  She held her arm up to mine.

  "We do! That's crazy," I laughed.

  "It's a sign. We're probably twins and we don't know it."

  Both of us burst out laughing, because there was no way we could be twins. She was petite with broad shoulders and bright blue eyes that were striking with her black hair and square face. I was tall and thin, with medium length light brown hair and greenish grey eyes. Heart shaped face.

  She smiled again and I did too.

  "You're new, aren't you?"

  "How'd you know?"

  "Lucky guess. Grade?"

  "Dahlia Adler. I mean, I'm a sophomore."

  "Well, I'm sophomore and I'm a Marina Rossi," she smirked.

  "What can I say? I'm not a morning person," I laughed. Typical me. The queen of awkward.

  "No one is," she yelled over her shoulder as she made her way off the bus. "And if they say they are, they're fooling themselves. See you around."

  There were many stand-offish people at Portland High, but plenty of totally great people to make up for it.

  Like Marina, who was usually in a good mood and was very friendly- however, she was no pushover. Messing with her was like poking a wild animal.

  I met Tina Falstain in biology class as well. She didn't talk unless she had something useful to say, which only made her even more entertaining. The queen of sarcasm.

  A few boys wouldn't shut up during a test, and continued to prattle about how perfect "your mom" jokes were, and that nothing would be created to live up to them. They were legendary, and so on.

  Tina had turned around and said with a smirk, "Your mom is a joke."

  The boys shut their mouth and the rest of the class practically exploded with laughter. Tina was like that all the time. Witty and entertaining, her tongue cut like a knife. It didn't cut you where it would hurt you. It cut you where you needed to be cut.

  Liz Robinson was in all of my classes, so it was inevitable that we would become friends. Then again, there are people you will never be friends with no matter how long you know them, and people that you are friends with the moment you meet them.

  The first time Liz ever talked to me was in Phys-Ed when she said out of the blue, "Pros of wearing all black: it makes me look and feel fierce and unstoppable. Cons: everyone knows that I had powdered donuts."

  A few people had looked at her funny. I laughed pretty hard, and we proceeded to tell every donut pun we knew.

  "I donut know your name," Liz had smirked.

  "I'm just mysterious that way. Don't be jelly. Jelly donut."

  We were total weirdoes.

  You know you're meant to be friends with someone when you can have the strangest, most out-of-place conversations with them and also the deepest- all without reserve or any hint of awkwardness. That was Liz and I to a T.

  Surround yourself with people that have at least one good quality you can pull from. It will make you a stronger, happier person. Make sure they can find something good in you, too. It's so important. High school is scary, it's true, but overall it was great for me because of the people I chose to hang with. By the time junior year started, I had a group of wonderful friends that were there for the long haul.

  Middle school is possibly just as scary. It's when you undergo the dreaded "awkward pre-pubescent phase" and when kids like to bully other kids like crazy, and when you can't figure yourself out.

  There were the good memories. When my 6th grade best friend, Shailene, and I volunteered at the Seaside Portland nursing home every Saturday, and made many sweet old ladies' day. When I joined one of those middle school talent shows on a whim and got first place for my attempt at opera singing. When my uncle gave us his old golf cart and I rode it practically everywhere. Every kid's dream, right?

  As for the bad memories, there were plenty of those too. Like when I went to the park to fly my kite, and it got stuck in a tree in front of all the cool kids. It sounds dumb, but I felt like Charlie Brown.

  Everything before middle school was a blur of play dates, holidays, crying fits because I didn't want to take naps, popsicles, waterslides, and my wild imagination. When you get older you may not lose your imagination, but you'll lose that childhood innocence and magic.

  Why did I ever want to grow up? Why does anyone? Being a little kid is amazing. Being flexible and energetic. Not caring what you look like or what people think of you. Eating whatever you want and not getting sick. No problems, because your parents take care of everything.

  Sitting outside for hours flying your yellow kite, not a care in the world.

  {Three}

  ~November 5th, 2008~

  "Dahlia, could you run up to the store for me? I need some eggs and milk for dinner tonight," my mother shouted up the stairs.

  I burst out laughing.

  "What? Don't laugh at me! What's so funny?"

  "That sounded exactly like a 3rd grade math problem," I choked out between attacks of laughter, "you know, the ones that say 'Johnny went to the store to buy eggs and milk. The eggs cost $2.45, and the milk cost $4.37. How much money does he need?'"

  "Oh."

  "Anyway. Is someone coming over for dinner?"

  "The Brandons. They'll be here at six, so you'd better hurry."

  I didn't care for the Brandons much. Mr. and Mrs. Brandon were awkward and haphazard in the way they treated others. Always saying things that shouldn't be said. Minding their own business at the wrong times and not at the right times. Jack went to college with their two sons, and that's how our parents met. I don't know if my parents particularly liked the Brandons, but they made a point of befriending everyone, so all I could do was slap on a smile and run the errand. The Brandons were well-meaning peopl
e at heart, and deserved a decent meal.

  I checked my watch. 4:30.

  The Sunfresh was down the road about half a mile, so I figured I would just walk.

  "Take Daisy with, would you? She needs the exercise." My mother was back at the bottom of the stairs.

  "Fine...

  I didn't have the patience for this. Daisy had been getting on my nerves a lot lately, what with going into her teens and all. She was emotional and whiny, and when she wasn't, she was teasing and overbearing. Basically unpredictable and insane. I tried to be the heroic, understanding big sister, but Daisy wasn't doing her part and so I went back to navigating my own waters. Focusing on myself. It was my Junior year, and I spent most of my time looking for colleges, working at my job, or exploring the outdoors with my friends.