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.

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