Death of a Dream – A Short Story

“What are you?”

The rabbit is big, like those ones that you see on the Internet.  It blinks its pink eyes yellow and sneezes.

“I’m a dream,” it responds.

Damnit, another one.

Its fur is the white of fresh snow.  It’s a stark contrast to the green of the grass I’m sitting on.  Leaning against the tree I sit under, I pet it on the head.  Its fur is soft but prickly.

“Am I dreaming?” I ask it.

The rabbit coughs, “No.  You’re not in a dream.  I am a dream.”

Its white fur is blue, blending with the green of the grass and the shadows of the tree.  I look past it and down the hill toward the town below.  I don’t want to look at the rabbit.

“Which one?” I ask with a sigh.  I don’t really want to know.

The rabbit doesn’t respond so I look down on it.  It only nods to the basketball next to my leg.

“Oh hell no!” I bark.  “I’ll practice more, I’ll get lessons … I’ll ..!”

“It doesn’t matter,” the rabbit sneezes again.  “You got cut.  I’m dying.”

“I’ll watch every game!  My parents … they’ll get the NBA full court thingy!  Come on, not this one!” I plead.  “I’ll … I’ll take steroids …”

“Yeah right,” the rabbit chuckles as it climbs onto my lap.  “You’re not gonna do steroids and you know it.”

“Come on,” I plead again.  “Just … why?” I ask while petting it’s emerald fur.

“Face it,” the rabbit lays its head down and coughs, “You’re short and slow.  It doesn’t matter how hard you practice, you just can’t react.”

“But I can shoot better than anyone …” I start, but the rabbit just interrupts me.

“Against another shooting guard that’s nine inches taller than you?” it raises the eyebrow over one gray eye.  “You know you can’t play point.”

It’s right.  They’re always right.  My insides are jumping up and down, heaving and I have to keep my lips pressed or they would shake too.

“How …” the word gets stuck in my throat.  Something else wants to come out in its place.  “How many more ..?” I’m able to moan.

The rabbit’s breathing is coming in wheezing gasps.

“All,” it says.

“What … now then,” I choke.

The rabbit looks up with its blind eyes and then lays its head down one last time.

“Guard the dreams of others,” it whispers with its last breath.  “Guard the dreams of others.”

 

 

 

Authors Note:

This little rough draft came from a sentence I had stuck in my head for the past few months.  Because I was taking Zoloft, I couldn’t focus on it long enough to do anything with it.  Right now, I’m doing a wash-out to switch medications and had the chance to focus.  Special thanks to Tom and Bobby, without them the rabbit would not have existed.

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About Webgoji

I am a member of the Kansas Writers Association and Wichita Writers Guild. I have successfully completed National Novel Writing Month and have completed 3 different novels. My first novel "The Fay Dragon Chronicles" unfortunately wasn't published, but I am currently trying to get my second book "The Seraphim Protocol" published. View all posts by Webgoji

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