Pier Dream …

I laid my head on the pillow as I tries to close my eyes. I pulled the blankets up to my shoulder and curled up because I was shivering a little bit. A vision appeared as if I was watching a movie and/or as if I was in it …

. . .

I sit at the pier in the dark, facing north, my feet dipping into the water. Dressed in a random T-shirt and rolled-up jeans to keep them dry, I take in the stillness of the night. Behind me, someone sits on the west side of the pier, silent, fishing, unwilling to talk.

I watch the gentle sway of the trees and the mesmerizing ripples on the water as the sun sets, casting a calming glow. Swans, ducks, frogs, and crickets blend their sounds into the evening chorus, while fish swim happily beneath the surface. A deep sense of peace washes over me.

I begin to ramble. Turning around, I see the person behind me—holding onto a quiet pain, unspoken yet heavy. They continue fishing, their focus unwavering. As I take in their breathtaking features, I notice something missing. The spark I once saw in them has faded.

I spoke softly, my voice trembling. “All the blue chemical fire can come after me—all the painful words that have been spoken about how ugly I am.” My voice cracked. Emotion welled up, exposing the depth of my pain. I struck a match, and it flared to life with a vivid blue flame. It clung to the stick, dancing hypnotically. “They can tell me I have a big nose or eyes that look too Chinese. They can say I’ll never achieve my dream job. That I’ll never thrive as a Deaf person. All the hate lingers in the air—because that’s the air we breathe—and this blue fire burns everywhere around us.”

I dipped my hand into the lake, then lifted it, extending a silent gesture—one of longing, of waiting for someone to take my hand. But no one did. Water dripped onto the pier below.

I continued speaking softly. “That blue fire.” I paused for only a moment before continuing. “It stops with me.” Steadying my voice, I found strength in my words. “I won’t spread more of that blue fire. All the hatred that pierced into me—some like sharp knives slicing deep, others like dull blades leaving aching wounds, the blood of their cruelty oozing from within. The punches that landed against my body, the screams that rang in my ears, the hateful words spat directly in my face—it all stops with me.” I turned to the flickering blue flame and blew. The fire went out.

Standing up, I looked at the person who hadn’t moved an inch. I reached for their hand, drawing their attention. They reeled in their fishing line and set it down gently, their expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. Without a word, I pulled them behind me, leading them to the edge of the pier where sand met wood.

Letting go, I crouched down, picking up two stones and some tinder, attempting to spark a fire. The person behind me shifted to my right, watching intently yet still lost in confusion. I switched to rubbing two sticks together, growing frustrated as nothing ignited. Sensing my struggle, they bent down, ready to help—but I caught their hand and shook my head. No.

I looked into their beautiful, searching eyes. Slowly, I moved my hand from their arm to my chest. And from within me, I pulled out a fire—not blue this time, but red, dancing and alive in my palm. Their eyes widened in shock, confusion deepening at the impossibility of it. Without hesitation, I moved my hand toward their chest and tapped. The red fire disappeared into them.

I whispered, “Sorry for the off-key.” Then, without warning, I sprang to my feet, ran to the edge of the pier, arms wide open, and shouted with every ounce of feeling I had left, “I am Titannnnniummmmm!” A burst of energy exploded beneath me, expanding like a bubble, enveloping both me and this beautiful soul. The wind roared, lifting my hair as it danced wildly around me.

As I walked back, I saw them standing there—wearing a sweater, jeans, and a cap. Our eyes met. From a short distance away, I lifted my hands to the sky and shouted, “You’ve got fireworks! You have the dream—now run toward it! RUN!”

. . .

Back at the house, lying on my bed, I suddenly opened my eyes and whispered as if they were in the same room, as if they could hear me.

“You are titanium.”

My heart burst with belief, sending it their way.

Thank you for taking the time to read my daydream story—one that appeared to me out of nowhere. I simply wanted to share it with you, my readers. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed bringing it to life.

With love,