Daydream of Summer
Chapter 1: Meet Myself and I
It was Summer when it started, and Summer when it ended. That’s what they called me from then on – Summer Freir. I could not recite the moment before or afterward, but I can tell you everything after it started and before it ended. After that, there isn’t much to tell.
On a stroll along the beach I would often lose myself, especially when the warm rays of the sun would marvel the world with shine. I cannot describe the yearning, nor can I fathom the feeling. Inside of me I have always yearned for the sun to shine all day, it feels like a movie that way. I would watch movies during the other seasons and venture out during Summer. I do not remember how it started or how it ended but it started in the hospital, and then there were the puzzles before me. Each one I knew I had to solve.
The complexity and the riddles of life drew me in and I was watching a dream all day long, my own personalized movie was happening, and I was filming the actions. I wrote down each event as it passed by in the silver chair that my body was residing within, I tried for many days to recreate each scene; I would always fail to perfect that one moment.
I could still see, hear, smell and touch entities of this world. There was everything but there was nothing in the world to those who could not see, but they imagined life as if it were their own. I could see but partial of the world had been closed off to my mind. I cannot recall most things but my dream allowed them to be full. That was when it all began.
There was a time when most people called me Summer Freir, and then there was a time before that I was known as Sally Freir. People began murmuring that my parents were shielding me from the other seasons because of danger. Danger was a strange word, but they were wrong. They were wrong, the people of this town knew not of what would happen. They were wrong, there was not a day that went by that I was sure I was safe. That was before Summer of two-thousand and eight came along.
I was only eighteen when it began, years and pages of my life became empty soon after – but they were right. Maybe they did not know that an accident would occur, or that I would fall in love with Summer but I wish I had fallen for another season. I was not ready to experience the pain after love already. That was only the beginning after the end.
It has only been twelve months after the car had run me over; I was careless many would whisper. I should have looked before crossing others would whisper. I desired to open my eyes then and tell them I was blind to the world. Until now. I was staring down seeing children playing in the yard. How could a hospital have children looking so blissful? That is what they were, young, naive and in bliss with life.
“Are you ready to talk now?” I stared away from the window and nodded. She sat down in the only chair occupying the room, three feet away from my bed; eight feet away from me.
“Alright, there are just a few things we will have you do today, and then we will come back tomorrow. Is that okay with you?” I nodded once again. I took in her appearance, her brown hair cascading down her back, her lips pursed as she stared down at the sheet, her eyes flickering at the content.
I forced my hands down near the wheels of the chair and wheeled it over to the bed. I held onto the armrest of the chair and shakily moved onto the bed, straining my upper arms. The doctor moved closer and holstered me onto the bed further. I sat in an upright positions with my hands clamped over my lap.
“First – what is your name?” I stared straight at the doctor sitting in the orange chair.
“Summer. My name is Summer Freir.” I noticed the doctor moving her hand over the paper, her pen scribbling down my response. I gnawed at the bottom of my lip and stared straight at the floor.
“All right, Summer –” I interrupted her, correcting her on her use of my name, before she could continue. I preferred if people would call my Sun, it fit my personality much better. Although, most would rather differ. My neighbors, on both side, called me Grouchy – one of the seven gnomes in that fairytale story. I didn't give a hoot about any fairytale, but I remember the story from when I was young.
“Who are your parents?” I saw the pen flicker across the page again, from when my eyes flickered at the movement of her legs. She had changed her position from casual to her right leg crossed over her left. Her foot proceeding to bounce with a beat unheard.
“Could you stop that?” I located my eyes onto her legs, clear agitation flashes in my eyes. She gawked at me, her pupils dilated, her mouth widened. Suspire passed my lips as I watched her guppy expression. She recovered only to ask a ridiculous, useless question.
“Pardon?” I knew she had heard, her pen was moving again. However, she never took her gaze away from mine, I never understood how a person could write while glancing away from the paper. The ability to write while staring at another being, the pen flickering across the page. If she glanced down she would see a mess of scribbles, undecipherable but perhaps it came with experience. That must be linked to the course: write while glancing away from the page, is she neat?, I wondered.
“I would like it if you stopped tapping your foot to a beat unheard of but inside your own skull –” I stopped and positioned my arms at the side of the bed and hobbled back into the immobile chair. Her foot took on a much slower tempo as her shoes stopped clanking all together.
“Are we finished today or are we not?” I angled the wheels towards the window, spun the wheels of the chair smoothly feeling the rubber cease as I stood in front of the window, and never looked back at the doctor. She did not much look like a doctor, especially with that stumped look. As each vulgar word slipped through my mind, every intent of throwing them, hard like a football, she took her leave instead. I would be surprised if she didn't come back tomorrow. She was my therapist in the end.
She stuttered her good-bye, and I knew without a glance that she was bewildered at my actions and lack of response to her questionnaires. I shouted obscenities towards this woman as she stood in my mind and I heard the clanking of her shoes disappear in the far distance. Her figure slowly dying out in my mind, each second that passed.
This was the second time in two days, the questions were repetitive; I was not an unintelligent person, even my older brother could answer these questions without using any brain cells. Even the boy that was kicking the soccer ball around, appearing to have trouble dribbling the ball towards his female companion on the soccer field the hospital had set up for the children.
The children were still oblivious to the eagle eyes.
On a stroll along the beach I would often lose myself, especially when the warm rays of the sun would marvel the world with shine. I cannot describe the yearning, nor can I fathom the feeling. Inside of me I have always yearned for the sun to shine all day, it feels like a movie that way. I would watch movies during the other seasons and venture out during Summer. I do not remember how it started or how it ended but it started in the hospital, and then there were the puzzles before me. Each one I knew I had to solve.
The complexity and the riddles of life drew me in and I was watching a dream all day long, my own personalized movie was happening, and I was filming the actions. I wrote down each event as it passed by in the silver chair that my body was residing within, I tried for many days to recreate each scene; I would always fail to perfect that one moment.
I could still see, hear, smell and touch entities of this world. There was everything but there was nothing in the world to those who could not see, but they imagined life as if it were their own. I could see but partial of the world had been closed off to my mind. I cannot recall most things but my dream allowed them to be full. That was when it all began.
There was a time when most people called me Summer Freir, and then there was a time before that I was known as Sally Freir. People began murmuring that my parents were shielding me from the other seasons because of danger. Danger was a strange word, but they were wrong. They were wrong, the people of this town knew not of what would happen. They were wrong, there was not a day that went by that I was sure I was safe. That was before Summer of two-thousand and eight came along.
I was only eighteen when it began, years and pages of my life became empty soon after – but they were right. Maybe they did not know that an accident would occur, or that I would fall in love with Summer but I wish I had fallen for another season. I was not ready to experience the pain after love already. That was only the beginning after the end.
It has only been twelve months after the car had run me over; I was careless many would whisper. I should have looked before crossing others would whisper. I desired to open my eyes then and tell them I was blind to the world. Until now. I was staring down seeing children playing in the yard. How could a hospital have children looking so blissful? That is what they were, young, naive and in bliss with life.
“Are you ready to talk now?” I stared away from the window and nodded. She sat down in the only chair occupying the room, three feet away from my bed; eight feet away from me.
“Alright, there are just a few things we will have you do today, and then we will come back tomorrow. Is that okay with you?” I nodded once again. I took in her appearance, her brown hair cascading down her back, her lips pursed as she stared down at the sheet, her eyes flickering at the content.
I forced my hands down near the wheels of the chair and wheeled it over to the bed. I held onto the armrest of the chair and shakily moved onto the bed, straining my upper arms. The doctor moved closer and holstered me onto the bed further. I sat in an upright positions with my hands clamped over my lap.
“First – what is your name?” I stared straight at the doctor sitting in the orange chair.
“Summer. My name is Summer Freir.” I noticed the doctor moving her hand over the paper, her pen scribbling down my response. I gnawed at the bottom of my lip and stared straight at the floor.
“All right, Summer –” I interrupted her, correcting her on her use of my name, before she could continue. I preferred if people would call my Sun, it fit my personality much better. Although, most would rather differ. My neighbors, on both side, called me Grouchy – one of the seven gnomes in that fairytale story. I didn't give a hoot about any fairytale, but I remember the story from when I was young.
“Who are your parents?” I saw the pen flicker across the page again, from when my eyes flickered at the movement of her legs. She had changed her position from casual to her right leg crossed over her left. Her foot proceeding to bounce with a beat unheard.
“Could you stop that?” I located my eyes onto her legs, clear agitation flashes in my eyes. She gawked at me, her pupils dilated, her mouth widened. Suspire passed my lips as I watched her guppy expression. She recovered only to ask a ridiculous, useless question.
“Pardon?” I knew she had heard, her pen was moving again. However, she never took her gaze away from mine, I never understood how a person could write while glancing away from the paper. The ability to write while staring at another being, the pen flickering across the page. If she glanced down she would see a mess of scribbles, undecipherable but perhaps it came with experience. That must be linked to the course: write while glancing away from the page, is she neat?, I wondered.
“I would like it if you stopped tapping your foot to a beat unheard of but inside your own skull –” I stopped and positioned my arms at the side of the bed and hobbled back into the immobile chair. Her foot took on a much slower tempo as her shoes stopped clanking all together.
“Are we finished today or are we not?” I angled the wheels towards the window, spun the wheels of the chair smoothly feeling the rubber cease as I stood in front of the window, and never looked back at the doctor. She did not much look like a doctor, especially with that stumped look. As each vulgar word slipped through my mind, every intent of throwing them, hard like a football, she took her leave instead. I would be surprised if she didn't come back tomorrow. She was my therapist in the end.
She stuttered her good-bye, and I knew without a glance that she was bewildered at my actions and lack of response to her questionnaires. I shouted obscenities towards this woman as she stood in my mind and I heard the clanking of her shoes disappear in the far distance. Her figure slowly dying out in my mind, each second that passed.
This was the second time in two days, the questions were repetitive; I was not an unintelligent person, even my older brother could answer these questions without using any brain cells. Even the boy that was kicking the soccer ball around, appearing to have trouble dribbling the ball towards his female companion on the soccer field the hospital had set up for the children.
The children were still oblivious to the eagle eyes.