The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Seven :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

It happened again. I fell asleep, ok, I was tired and I had a nap, and I had that dream. I wasn’t prepared. I never know when to expect that dream, but there it was.

After climbing the rigging to the bird’s nest and looking out across the sea, being flung back into that room felt warm and safe again. Somehow feeling sea sick and adrenaline fuelled lingered as I wandered around the room. Running my fingers over books that felt so comfortingly familiar that I could curl up in a ball and read story after story until the light faded and the night ended.

It took a while to remember, to focus enough to remember the objects that I wanted, a pen and a notebook. I did it though. One of each. With the summoning of an energy I didn’t quite know, I did it.

It was a little spiral bound jotter notebook, with thin paper. The pen, just the average biro. The ink glistened, it was black but it had an eerie quality. I wrote the only words I could think of. “I am a deliberate creator.” In my tidiest hand-writing, which was a bit of a miracle. I tucked the pen into the spiral and left the open page exposed on the first shelf I am always drawn to. I just needed it to stay there, to not get dislodged. So I changed my mind, I pinned it in place with the little trinket box that I found the thimble and tiny clothes inside.

I didn’t stay in the dream beyond hoping that the notebook would stay in place. I was pulled rather unceremoniously into the waking world. The dream world fading like sand falling through the cracks.

And then it was gone. I felt myself pulled back to reality; kicking, screaming and sullen. I didn’t want to be awake.

The phone buzzing obnoxiously next to my head, that was the rude awakening.

So very uninvited.

My name Is Elliot Parker.

That damn Clover Rayder bitch woke me up. Do not wake me up from a good dream and expect a nice hello. Everyone knows that.

Clover however her call was pretty much pointless. I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know. Stan had told me that he told her that he has a crush on her. What I didn’t know, or want to know was her response.

After all, it is none of my business, no matter how much they seem to think it is. Just because I was stupid enough to introduce them. But that is ok, not because I want it to be, but because it has to be.

That is what they don’t tell you. Or perhaps it is what they tell you if you can read between the lines. A perfect life doesn’t exist. But making thousands of mistakes does. And the more mistakes you make you want to ask yourself one question. What did I learn? A better question is, have I made this mistake before? Why did I repeat it? What will stop me from repeating it?

That is when things get hard. And no, that is not a dirty joke.

Clover woke me up to tell me something important to her. It was important for her to tell me, she had what she wanted. A new consistent source of attention. An established crush. Harder to break, trickier to mess with. But still feeble enough that it can be unwound and destroyed if I chose to do it. Though I doubt she understands that that is what I interpreted her excitement as. Her excitement surface bound was “omg he likes me” another one to add to her list. Another poor soul from the tone of her voice and conversation likely to end up on the train tracks of the trail of broken hearts following after her.

I made a mistake. Introducing them. Waking up. Answering the phone. All of it a bit of a giant error.

But that’s ok. Its ok.

I don’t want this to be under my control. I want her to do it of her own reasoning. Not my adjustments, if that’s what we can call them. I want her to choose a decent guy, go for a decent guy and build a solid, healthy relationship. Even if it is with Stan.

My name is Elliot Parker.

I want to go back to sleep. I want to dream that dream again. I want to find out, I have to find out if someone else can get to that room.

But I can’t go to sleep. Can’t or won’t.

My nap has been interrupted and so has that dream. I want to go back and I need to, but there is not enough time left.

There is so much to do and so little time. If it wasn’t for the dreaming and the sleeping and the whole, you know, having a life thing I would be further than I am at the moment. I would have plotted more rather than sat here fantasising. Obsessing with that damn room. I mean, a dream is just a dream, right? Nothing more? But I just have the feeling that is wrong.

I can’t even begin to find a way to prove what I know.

Somehow, I know that Clover is going to end up with Stan, maybe not right away, but I know it. Somehow it just feels like, she might just listen to what I have said and give him a decent chance. She might. I hope she does. He is sweet and kind. She could do with just having the one boy who treats her well and shows her how true affection, love and care, she should know what that is like. Stan could give her that. I want that for her. The fairy story that she wants more than anything. Her prince charming. He could do that. He could be that, for her.

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