Sand of Broken Dreams.

A wisp of fresh air washed into the wooden
cabin, driving away the smell of sweat that clung to the cabin like glue. A ray
of sunlight hit the eyes of a teenager about, sixteen years old by the looks of
him. He had himself tucked in deep under the blanket, protected against the
chilly wind that flowed through the cracks in the wall. He opened his blue eyes
to the light, the first one to be wakened by it. Just like every morning, he
walked to the mirror hanging against the door. He passed four bunk beds, each
filled with the form of a teenage boy. In the mirror he straightened his blonde
hair. It was always a mess when he woke up. The damp air made it difficult to
straighten out. Something stirred behind him; it was one of the other boy, who
turned around. The boy got dressed, in short blue jeans and a white shirt.
Carefully he opened to door, so that he would not wake any that where still
asleep. Once outside he took a deep breath. He loved the morning air, the
quietness when no one was awake yet. Like he did each morning he walked away
from the camp, along the beach that exteded along the camp site. He liked to
stroll along the beach.  He looked out
over the large lake, crystal clear water reflecting the warm morning sun. He
felt the cold sand between his toes. The beach was a greyish yellow and the
sand was fraught with black dirt from the lake and the forest.

He took his time to walk down the beach,
examining the forest and his surroundings. He looked up at the sun. He guessed
he had about half an hour before the camp would eat breakfast together. He was
not looking forward to it. The breakfast would be just as tasteless as the days
before. He could not sate his hunger with the food he ate in the camp, but with
the candy and cookies he smuggled from home. He knew he would be severely
punished if they caught him with the food; something he did not care about as
much as he should. His stroll took him to a small rock face. The wind and the
waves had eroded out of the rock face. The cave was about two meters high and
large enough to house a small group. He wondered if he could get some of the
more ‘misbehaving’ children (like the camp leader put it) to come into the cave
for some proper fun. He was about to enter the cave when he heard the dinner
bell from the camp. He had half an hour to get back to the camp. The boy took a
quick glance in the cave before heading back.

“We thank the Lord for our food and blessed
be He. Amen” A thin tall women with fiery red hair and big glassed called out
over the group of teenagers who were praying in silence. The one boy was
sitting on the far edge of the table, faking his prayers. He could not care
less about this religious talk he was being dragged into. He himself had been
classified as a difficult child by his school and his parents. He looked at his
food and took displeased bites now that he was finally allowed to put something
in his stomach. “The food should be functional” he was told. You should respect
what you were given and realise what a honour it is to eat. The boy dropped his
spoon into the sludge in front of him. It should be some kind of rice
pudding…but it did not taste of feel like it. “Alastair!” the thin, tall women
called out. She was standing right before him but her voice was strong enough
to silence everyone. “Do you not remember the lessons? Eat your food gracefully
because He gave it to you!” A small smirk travelled along the teenagers as they
all looked at him. Alastair could only nod and give a small “yes ma’am” The
woman, the camp leader, explained that if she caught him like this one more
time he would have no food till tomorrow. This did not bother him much, but he
still took one bite after another.

After the food he took a stroll along the
beach again, another hour before the first of the activities would start. They
proclaimed they weren’t mandatory and that the camp should be fun, but Christ,
the activities where all but mandatory. In frustration Alastair kicked a small
rock that lay on the beach. (It bounced two times on the sand.) He made his way
to the cave again, as it was his retreat. As he entered the cave he saw
something large and shiny in the back. Curiosity took over. He closed in on the
strange shape. He could swear he heard a slow breathing and if his eyes did not
deceive him, there was a shape moving up and down. With a shivering hand he
reached out to it and laid his hand on it. The surface felt smooth and warm. It
was no rock, no kind that he knew off. He blinked with his eyes to better
adjust to the dark cave. Were those scales? Yes, reptile like scales.

Before he realised what it was, the shape
moved. A large roar filled the cave and Alastair got knocked over by something.
He was thrown into the dirt floor of the cave. To his terror he see the shape
move; it was not just a rock, it was a creature; a reptile-like creature. Two
reptile-like eyes glazed at him. The creature walked on four legs and had black
scales. The creature roared again, two wings unfolded from its back. The
creature was to any definition he knew a dragon. He looked down to see  five massive claws on each paw. The dragon
was around the size of a normal horse but with a temper. Alastair wasted no
time to get moving, he ran out of the cave. On his way but he did not pay
attention to a rock blocking his path and he tumbled over the rock. His head
smashed onto a small stone and he blacked out.

A pair of eyes peaked over the rocks. It
was a teenage boy from the camp. In terror the boy looked at the dragon and
Alastair as the dragon made its way to Alastair. As silent as he could he ran
away to the camp. The boy was sure the dragon had seen him but for some odd
reason it did not chase the boy. He did not ran straight to the camp, the panic
in his mind made him ran to the forest where he got lost.

It was already getting dark when Alastair
awakened, the sun was setting the sky alight in a fiery glow that looked more
like a forest fire than a sunset. His head felt like someone had smashed a
hammer against at. He looked up to see the shape of a dragon towering above
him. The growl of the dragon was so deep that Alastair felt his while chest
vibrate. He was paralyzed with fear. He hoped to call out for help. But as soon
as he opened his mouth to scream for help the dragon shut him up by pressing an
large scales claw against his mouth. this touch of the dragon shocked him. It
made him realise that the dragon did not want to harm him for now. The touch however
was not the most shocking Alastair saw or heard from the dragon. Next the
dragon opened his own mouth and spoke with a growling, deep voice that sounded
like a distance remnant of a German accent you would hear in American World War
II movies. “Don’t shout. You are not in danger.” Alastair looked with big
surprised eyes at the dragon. It took him a while to actually answer the
dragon. A time which the dragon used to examine the human before him. “What are
you?” Alastair hesitated with each word, hoping not to upset the huge reptile.
Once again the growly voice of the dragon vibrating his chest. “Can’t you see?
I am ze Dragon! vor I am? I am ze Gertï.” The dragon stepped back to allow
Alastair to stand up. In the distance he heard shouts. “Zey are coming” The
black dragon growled, “You must not let zem find me.” Something in the dragon’s
voice made it unclear to Alastair whether the dragon was demanding or asking
kindly. It was hard to say if the dragon was friendly or aggressive, with that
growly voice.

Before Alastair could make up his mind the
shouts were at the entrance of the cave. He could hear the camp leader shout
out commands. He could see not only the camp staff, but also all the
children  standing just outside the
entrance. Alastair saw the shapes of what were probably rifles in the hands of
the staff. “Demon!” the camp leader shouted and pointed at the black dragon.
Something with in Alastair made him protest. Maybe it was the ‘rebellious
behaviour’ he had shown or perhaps something else but at the top of his lungs
Alastair shouted “Stop! Don’t shoot!” A futile attempt as the camp leader
pointed at him next and said: “He has been tainted by the demon. Bring on the
might of the Lord and cleanse him from this sins.” Alastair swallowed as he
heard the cocking of guns and salutes of the barrels which were aimed at him.
His heart pounded in his throat as he jumped towards the dragon. The dragon in
return tried to protect both itself and him from the guns with its wings. But
to no avail; Alastair could hear shots being fired before everything turned to
black.

The beeping of an heart monitor. It was the
first thing he could hear. Alastair slowly regained consciousness. Sounds of a
hospital emanated around him. He could see the summer sun shining outside the
window. A small group of doctors where standing talking to two adults, his
parents, at the end of his bed. He could hear them, clearly but could not say a
word himself. “I am sorry sir, ma’am” A rather young looking doctor said to his
father and mother. “But the tumour is growing. He is in a state of delirium. We
can’t cure him. The humane thing.” The doctor stopped, as he seen that Alastair
was awake. The young doctor gave his parents a clipboard. “Sign here” he simply
said before he walked off followed by the group of doctors. His vision faded
again. He last thing he could hear was his mother saying “I am sorry dear”
before the scrabbling of a pen on the clipboard.

Alastair’s eyes began to feel heavy. For a
moment he closed his eyes, just for a moment. When he opened them again he saw
the dragon, bloodied from the bullet wounds. His vision started to fade, his
own body covered with blood. An ethereal voice echoed through the cave. “We
love you, son.” Alastair vision turned black and a feeling of eternal tranquillity
overcame him.

1883 words