I've always heard tales of magical dragons being locked away in a parallel universe—one that we can't see.
The sun shone through the clouds, it warm light radiating the garden upon which I stood.
"Mum Mum!" I tugged at her shirt in glee.
"Yes, what is it?" She slid her fingers through my blonde hair which had run down across my shoulders. "I want to see the dragon." I said pointing to a storybook I held.
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"Which dragon?" She asked, maintaining a downward gaze at my cute innocent face. Her wistful smile was a reflection of Earth's sparkle.
"This one." I said. Pointing to the dragons image crafted in the storybook —she seemed to have missed it the first time.
She lifted the book from my hand and flipped through it for about 3 minutes then giggled. "There's no such thing as a dragon." She said. Her words piercing through my soul like a knife as my smile slowly faded. "This is just a tale, a fiction written for entertainment." She added, planting a kiss on my forehead.
She handed the book back to me, and continued watering the plants. I stared at the book as my face molded into a frown.
For days, I re-read the book over and over again. A certain day, as I read through it, I came across a line: "He lurks behind the roses in the garden, only awakened by the sound of the melodious flute." A glimpse of hope flooded through me once more.
"Yes." I said, as I hopped outside the house toward the garden. My hair flung backward in the direction of the wind while my little gown lightly billowed with each step I took.
"Gloria! Gloria!" I heard my name across the distance—it knew it was mum but I couldn't leave until I had seen my roses.
"Finally, gotcha!" I exclaimed, as I ripped one off it's root. "Uh oh," I got hit with a wave of realization that my actions weren't necessary. I tried fitting it back but couldn't get the perfect alignment.
I peeped behind and around the flowers, poking and craning my neck hoping to find a clue. But then, I spotted a silvery object— its borders weren't defined. I reached for it immediately and lifted it up—it was a silver shoe my mum had bought for Junior, my older brother who was away at a boarding school.
"Mtcheww," I hissed. "It's Junior's shoe." But then I remembered the line in the story book: "Only awakened by the, the..." I paused, struggling to put lost fragments of my memory together. "The melodious flute!" The words flashed through my memory like lightning.
I stuck my hands into my side pocket and brought out the flute which I carried around ever since I read about the dragon. I began playing as many songs as I could. At some point, I paused, paying rapt attention to a soft rustling sound. I tried to trace its origin when suddenly, I get tapped on the shoulders.
I turned back and screamed at the figure standing behind me, stumbling to the ground beautified with grasses and flowers of various colours.
"Ready for lunch?" —it was mum. She wore a smile that seemed not to fade.
"Oooo, mummy!" I exclaimed, wriggling my entire body on the grass where I laid. "No, no. Don't do that. Come on up let's go now." She lifted me by the hands and led me inside. I resisted, dragging my feet to create friction but my strength was no match compared to hers.
At the dining table, I expressed my dissapiontment. "Mum, you could have waited a little, I was about to summon the dragon." I winced, trying to control my emotions.
"Dragon? Is that why you refused to eat? Because of the dragon?" She retorted. I could feel the subtle rage in her voice though she sought to conceal it. But I could see right through her, like a mum would see right through her daughter.
She rested her jaws on her cupped palms. You know what? I'll see if I can get you one. "Really?" My face brightened, widening into a smile. "But how will you do it?"
"I know of someone with a lot of experience with magical creatures." She said gulping large amounts of water.
"Yay!!" I shouted in excitement as I shove the crispy potatoes lined with a red ketchup sauce down my throat—my appetite had returned.
The next day around 3:00pm I waited indoors for Mum to arrive so I could meet with the man she spoke about earlier. I paced anxiously upon the white-tiled floor as I unusually kept eye contact with my reflection below.
I got distracted by the door bell. I answer to it. "Mummy welcome." I said, as she leaned over to give me a warm embrace. My eyeballs drifted past her arched back to a man standing behind her. He wore a suit, and held a briefcase— he wore an all-black ensemble. "His spell books must be in there," I thought to myself, glancing at the briefcase.
"Ahem," she cleared her throat. This is the man I told you..."
"The one who can summon dragons?" I quickly cut in.
"Ye-Yes." She stuttered, trying to recover from the sudden interruption.
"Can you show me the dragon that spits out magical fire?" I eagerly asked.
The man gestured with his fingers as he crouched so that his height could equal mine.
"Yes. Why not" He replied. My heart racing faster than ever.
"First of all, close your eyes and count to three." He said placing my palms over my eyes.
"One, two ..." I pause for a moment, hoping to buy him more time to finish whatever trick he was onto. "Three!" I shouted! throwing my hands away from my eyes.
There he was, his arms outstretched in front of my face, holding a little object. "Tada!" He said, wearing an awkward smile.
I leaned closer before I realized what the object was.
"Is this..." I tried asking.
"Of course!!" He interrupted.
"yayyy!" My mum cheered from behind as she starts clapping.
"It!" I muttered as I lost every bit of enthusiasm in me—it was a plastic dragon toy.
I turned back to my mum, my face expressionless. I could feel a mix of painful emotions. I might have been five-years-old but I knew the difference between a fake dragon and a real one.
"Congratulations." My mum crouched, grabbed my hands jamming them together repeatedly.
"Come on clap." She prompted gently.
I put on a smile on my face as a token for her precious motherly effort, but under that smile was a broken, little, innocent girl who sought for her wishes to come alive.