Dreamland by Jahric Lago and Cheska Mateo (Published under TBC Publications)

Chapter One: Honey and Bee

Chapter One
Honey and Bee

Dreams become sweeter if felt in fantasy.

Where am I? What is this place? Is anybody here? These were my very thoughts as I opened my eyes and stared into this picturesque scene. There was a wide garden, a swarm of colorful butterflies-a piece of heaven found in the recesses of my mind. The place seemed like an endless stretch of land and I was afraid I'd get lost. I stood on an elevated terrain covered with lush Bermuda grass. Various kinds of trees beckoned me to admire their presence. I felt the breeze blow my hair softly. This paradise was terrifyingly beautiful. I was in awe, and yet, I felt very at peace.

A bench stood under the shade of a tree, only three meters away from me. I wanted to go there but someone-a man-was already seated on it. As if on cue, the man looked my way and to my surprise, started walking towards me. I wanted to run, but my legs seemed to have turned to jelly. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would pop out of my chest. With every step he made, the more anxious-or was I excited?-I became.

When only a few inches of space separated us, I became more aware of every detail of his face, his almond-shaped eyes, towering figure, and the innocence of his smile, which was both comforting and reassuring.

"Hello," he said. "Are you new here?"

My lips trembled in reply. "Y-yes." I couldn't, I was talking to a total stranger.

"What's your name?" he asked again.

I thought I'd better not tell him anything about me. I was a sucker for healthy boundaries.

"Call me whatever you want!" I retorted.

"I'm not a bad person."

Feeling a little guilty, I decided to be gentle this time. "Sorry, but I meant it. Call me any name you like."

"Hmm."

I waited for a sophisticated name, even a common one that would sound so plain to my ears.

"Honey."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll call you Honey."

I raised an eyebrow. Honey, huh? Nice try.

The man scrambled for an explanation.

"It's your eyes. They're honey-colored."

Okay?

"They're beautiful," he added.

I felt the warmth in my cheeks and I knew right then and they were red. Whether from embarrassment or from joy, I didn't know.

"Cool, I got it," I said, to regain my dignity, at least.

"Want to have a short walk with me?"

I didn't move nor did I say anything. Who was this guy?

He probably sensed my confusion and laughed softly. "I've been here for as long as you can imagine. This is the Paradise . . . the Dreamland."

He paused and heaved a sigh so deep that I felt melancholic for an instant.

"Come," he said, stretching out his hand. I refused to take it, but he led the way just the same.

Like a tour guide, he explained everything he could about the place. We walked a bit until we stopped before a huge tree. Across from it is a lake so calm, clear, and blue that it reflected the sky above it. It was definitely inviting me for a swim.

"I love this tree," he said, catching my attention, "it's got a copious shade."

"What kind of tree is this?"

"Narra."

"Thanks for the info, but you still haven't told me who you are," I shot back.

"Oh, my bad. I'm-"

"BEE!"

He jumped back in surprise as I, shrieking for my dear life, shooed a pesky bee away. From where I was, I could see him trying to hold back his laughter.

"Bee. My name is Bee."

I scoffed. "No, it's not. You saw a bee, but that's not your name."

He gave me that irresistible smile again. "It's not, but I'd like to stay true to the nature of how we're naming ourselves."

"Yes." Realizing my mistake, I quickly backtracked. "I mean, NO."

Too late. Mystery Man was already shaking his head, his face a sure sign of amusement and satisfaction.

"Honey and Bee. Perfect."

Bzzzzz bzzzzz bzzzzzzzzz . . .

Ouch!

Two things woke me up every day: my alarm clock, and a bee from somewhere.

I hated bees.

My eyes hurt from the sunlight that streamed my room, but it had broken the spell of my dream. In my recollection, some girl named Honey looked like me except that her eyes were lighter than mine. But the dream felt so real that I thought it was me in it. Or wasn't exactly the case?

"Good morning!" Mom's head swung in the doorway. "Time to get up. It's Graduation Day."

My eyes squinted. "Oh. Right."

"Excited?"

"Very excited, Mom. All the hard work's for you," I sighed. "I just wished that Pop was here."

"For sure your Daddy is so proud of you, dear. So don't be sad and give your Pop virtual butterfly kisses."

I smiled and wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Love you, Mom."

That day, I would graduate with a degree in Creative Writing, with the hope that I'd be accepted to Joie de Vivre magazine. Propelled by my burning passion for writing, I would march out of the university gates armed with my diploma and my life-long dream of writing for the renowned media outfit.

*****

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