Department of English                               Gymnasium Steglitz Berlin

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Dreams

A project of writing creative stories

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The Red Suitcase Football is a nice sport
A mysterious day with Dad Tim's Candy Dream
Light at the End of the Tunnel The Loss of Justice
No Tears in Heaven The Little Boy
  
  

The Red Suitcase

I give the magazine back to the woman. "Three Euros, please." She puts the money on the counter.

"Have a good flight!" I say.

"Oh, I hope so, I have never flown such a long trip before, 10 hours! I would really like to swap with you." She laughs a bit. "Bye!“

I watch her while she is going through the door. The blue letters on the glass door are mirror-inverted from my point of viewing. But I know them anyway. Every morning when I walk through this door I see them. International Newspaper Kiosk, duty free.

A voice sounds through loudspeaker. "Last call for the passengers of flight number LH387 to Vancouver, please go to gate seven."

I can see the woman again who just bought the magazine. She pulls a conspicuous red suitcase behind herself. She hurries to gate seven. Vancouver, I think, not bad. I follow her with my eyes till she disappears in the gateway to the airplane. I imagine how she boards the plane. She would not take one of the newspapers which are offered on board. She already has her magazine. She said she would really like to swap with me. I didn’t tell her that I like to do so, too, and I don’t joke as she did. How great it would be to fly in this aircraft! Apparently the clouds look like cotton wool if you look down. It is impossible for me to pay a ticket, much too expensive. Unfortunately.

There is a noise now, the airplane moves backwards. An orange dressed man waves his hands and the enormous vehicle turns around slowly. I fasten my seat belt. Through the window right beside me I can see the airport building becoming smaller and smaller. The airplane reaches the runway. The landscape passes by faster and faster. Then there is a sudden movement and the airplane takes off from the ground. The pilot flies it towards the sky
"Welcome on board, ladies and gentlemen! We will now familiarize you with our safety on board. For your own safety, please keep your seat belt fasten during the whole flight. In case of fire..."
I stop listening to the stewardess. I don't need any safety instructions. There won’t be a fire, I am sure. I completely trust in the technology and the crew. I do not want to listen to anything else than the roaring of the engines. It sounds like music in my ears. Nobody will be able to destroy my happiness! I look down. Everything seems to be so small! I can see cars looking like ants, and there is the airport with the International Newspaper Kiosk in it. It has the size of an anthill. I start to laugh out loud. I can’t stop laughing. I feel so good, I would never sell any newspaper in my hole life anymore, there will be totally different opportunities for me, much better opportunities, I think, I could open my own restaurant or whatever, I could also start to study or...

"Excuse me, madam, is everything ok? Are you listening to me? I have a question, do you have French magazines, too?" It takes a moment before I realize the situation. I am standing behind a grey counter in a stuffy kiosk and a man with a black cap is facing me. "The last shelf on the left, over there," a monotonous voice is saying. I point at the shelf.

"Thanks".

Behind the window an airplane takes off.

(L.K., Feb 2010)

 

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A mysterious day with Dad

 “Daddy, Daddy!“
I gave my father a shake to wake him.
“There are ghosts in the garden. It’s a violent thunderstorm outside and the wind is blowing heavily and making loud noises. I can see the ghosts right at my window.”
I tried to explain the situation to my father with sign language because he couldn’t perceive the situation himself due to his deafness. I was in great fear and was looking for the protective closeness of my father. He allowed me to sleep next to him. I could still hear the wind blowing and shaking our windows but with the warmth of my father I fell asleep within some minutes.

It was Sunday morning and the weather was sunny but very cold. My father and I were going to church as every Sunday. We enjoyed the service very much and sang on top of our voices. Normally we went home afterwards for our dinner. But today it was different.
“We’ll have dinner in the 'Bean’s' today.”
First I wanted to ask him why because we usually talked about everything. But Dad was so different today. He looked around the whole time.
“Dad, is everything all right?” I dared to ask.
“Yes, yes, don’t worry. Let’s better go now!” He answered in rapid and vague signs. He took my arm and dragged me out of the church. It hurt very much, but because I didn’t know what was wrong I thought I’d better remain silent.

We were walking in the sunshine through the small streets to the 'Beans'. It was half past twelve and many people were sitting in the restaurant. Fortunately we got a place. But I didn’t understand my father’s decision to prefer to sit in a remote corner where it was foggy because of the smoke instead of sitting in the lovely winter garden at the window. Nevertheless we were happy being together and ordered a soup. We decided to go for a walk after dinner to enjoy the sun.

Due to the snow we had the last weeks we saw the trees and houses with a blanket of snow on our walk.
“Let’s go to our favorite place.” I said full of happiness.

Our favorite place was at a very small lake in the vicinity of our house. It’s the place where we used to go with mum when she was alive. She died at New Year five years ago. I was only five years old so I did not really understand the situation. We were standing on the street and I had sparklers. I loved them. But when I had bought them the woman gave me two of these little bees which are not dangerous as a gift. So at New Year I wanted to let them “fly”. I went on the street and then the misfortune happened. Like a bolt from the blue a rocket directly hit mum and exploded. It was dreadful. Dad somehow survived although he stood next to her. But he has been deaf since that moment. It was a terrible time for both of us, but especially for me as a little girl it was very hard to cope with this situation.

After some minutes we arrived at the lake. Just some other people were walking there. It had been cold enough so that the lake was frozen and we could go on it. I was imitating skaters and was very happy. Dad looked better, too. We played tag and after some time dad needed a rest so he went to “our place” and sat there watching me being on the ice. Suddenly I heard a noise. The ice began to crunch. I immediately stopped running and quick movements. Like a feather I tried to get to the bank of the lake. Dad waved to me. I tried to keep cool, so I waved back not to show him the dangerous situation I was in. But then it happened. The ice crunched more and more and I fell through it.
“Help! Daddy, I need help! Help!” I shouted in fear of my life.
But Dad could not hear me. I tried to keep my head over the water. And…what was that? There were two people grabbing dad. I cried because I thought I would die. But unexpected I heard a voice. There was a man with a lifebelt.

Bathed in sweat I woke up.  Daddy was awake too by this time and when he saw me being a bit confused and fearful he tried to calm me down. So he held me tightly in his arms. After some time I began to tell him my nightmare.

(F.S., Feb 2010)

 

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Football is a nice sport

Hello, my name is Peter. I am sixteen and I live in Germany. I go to school, but I like sports more than school, especially football. My biggest dream is to become a football star. I love football more than everything else. But my parents do not like my dream. They think football is stupid. My mum is very angry because I would rather play football in the afternoon than do my homework.

One day I came from school and I watched a football-match on TV, my favorite team Hertha BSC was playing. The players of Hertha BSC are so nice. I figured that I would be one of those players. A wonderful dream. I got the ball from another player, ran over the field and then I scored a goal. The atmosphere in the stadium was fantastic and I was the hero. But suddenly my mum came into my room and said: “Peter, well that was that. Football is not good for you. You have so many options in your life but football… Do you think you are able to earn money with football?” I could not believe what she said and answered sulkily: “Mom! Football is my dream. Are you not able to accept this fact? Why do you denigrate my dream?” My mum smiled and said: “ Peter! I never want to denigrate your dream, but you do not know how many boys want to become professional football players? Perhaps you have the chance to play football successfully, but what if it doesn't work out?” “What do you mean mum? Do you think I am not good enough?” She answered understandingly: “ I think you do not understand what I mean. I hope you will more sensible soon.” I was so angry and did not answer her.

During the next days I thought a lot about the conversation with my mum. But I continued dreaming my dream. I went to a friend and told him about my dream. He was enthused about my dream. He said that I had enough talent and power to achieve my dream. I was proud of his words and went to the football field to play football. There were some professional players. I asked them if I could play along. First the boys were skeptical and one boy said to me: “I think you are too young and not enough good to play with us.” I was sad and was about to go when another boy said: “ Let him play with us, we do not know how good he is.”

I was happy and played over two hours with the boys. I never had such a nice game. Surprisingly one of the boys said to me: “Well done!I have a surprise for you: On Saturday we have a match against the leader in our league. Come to this match and later talk to our coach, perhaps you can join our team.” I thought I was dreaming. “Wonderful! I will be there.”

On the next morning, one day before the football match, I was so excited. I figured that I was a member of this team. I had decided not to tell my mum about the match. I said to her that I would learn with a friend for school. Then I called some friends to play football on the football ground. I wanted to improve my skills. We played a long time and my friends wished me a lot of fun on the next day. In the evening I was so excited that I could not eat any more. For this reason I had an early night.

On the next morning I woke up with a big smile because I had dreamt about the football match and the special thing was that the coach substituted me in the second half and in the last minute I scored a goal and became the match winner. “I would be so nice if the dream is reality soon” I thought.

Four hours later I was in the stadium. There were many viewers and fans, but they had to watch the match from the grandstand but I could stand in the coaching zone. The match was fantastic. The result was 3:2 and I was in ecstasy the whole match. After the match the coach came to me. “Hello Peter. Do you find it was a good game?”- “Yes! It was great. Your team played a structural and offensive game and the goals were very nice.” “Yes I am content with the game. But now I want to talk about you. I heard from some players that you want be a football professional later?”- “Yes, that is my biggest dream. I often play football in my free time.”- “ Well you must know that many boys want to be a football star later. It is so difficult to become a professional. Only the best of over 10.000 boys have the chance to play football professionally.” I was shocked about his words. He saw that and said quickly: “I do not want to denigrate your dream. I only want you to know it is an unrealistic dream. Do you have any other dream?"- “Football is my only dream… “- “ Well I can understand that you are disappointed, but please consider if football is your real and only dream during the next days.”

I thought a lot about this conversation. First I could not believe what he had said, but then I understood how difficult it was to become a football star.

Three years later I passed my school leaving examination and I had a new dream. I wanted to become a doctor. I did an internment in a hospital and it was so nice to help people. One day I went to the football coach and said to him: “Thank you coach. You were right. Football is a nice sport, but I have a new dream. I want to become a doctor!” And he answered in a friendly manner: “That it is a good decision. You are a clever boy, but I hope you will come to a football match again?”-“Of course.”

(O.F., Feb 2010)

 

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Tim's Candy Dream

Mr Muck was a normal employee in a chocolate factory called “Chocos Chocolate Factory”. His job was to lead school classes through the factory and to show them how chocolate is made. It was a downmarket job and every day was almost like the day before. But Mr. Muck’s life was not different, there was a constant monotony. He woke up every morning at 6am, had  breakfast with his wife Molly, read the newspaper, ate two toasts with marmalade, drank his apple-tea and finally took the bus to work after saying good-bye to his wife. At 8am Mr Muck began to work. Normally he had two tours a day. After these two rounds he had a break, which he was using for a lunch with his few friends. The rest of the day was monotony again. He went back to work until 5pm, then he came home, had supper, sat down on the couch and watched TV until he became tired by dreaming of a better life.

One normal Monday morning Mr Muck sat at the breakfast table and read his newspaper like every day. There was an article which was saying: ““Chocos Chocolate Factory”, the biggest candy-factory in the States, has a new owner: Mr Happy. Now he is searching for a new deputy manager…”

“Molly! Look at this, my factory has a new owner. Maybe he'll increase my salary”, said Mr. Muck laughing.
“Show me. Oh, they are searching for a new assistant. That is your chance, darling! Mrs Muck answered.
"Hmm, no Molly, that is nothing for me...Oh, 7:15! I have to go! Have a nice day, my darling.”

The first school class was waiting for him in the entrance hall. “Good Morning everybody, I’m Mr Muck I will lead you through our yummy factory! I hope you are excited to see how we make our yummy chocolate. At the end of the lead all of you will get a yummy surprise. Are you excited?”- “Yeahhh!“ the group answered. "All right."
This was the part Mr Muck loved most: The sparkle in the eyes of the children, before they see the chocolate. All were excited to see the large waterfalls of chocolate. One boy of the group was especially enthusiastical. He couldn’t look away from the large waterfalls of chocolate and he was entrancedd by the whole factory. He asked Mr Muck a lot of questions about every little detail about the factory and the chocolate production. After the tour the little boy came to Mr Muck.
“Excuse me, Mr Muck! Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, what’s your name boy? “
“My name is Tim, Sir. And I want to know, are you the owner of this whole factory?” he asked and looked expectantly and admiringly at Mr Muck.
“No. That isn’t my own factory. I’m a normal worker“.
Tim answered, apparently disappointed: "Hmm, well, I will later own my own candy factory, you know. I saved my money my whole life, so I can found it one day. And then I will own the most successful candy factory of the world. I will name it "Tim’s Candy Dream”.
Tim’s eyes were sparkling.
“I’m sure you will”, answered Mr Muck encouragingly.
“Sir, could I visit you every once a while? I want to learn more about the factory.”
“Hmm, why shouldn’t you. You can come after my first tour, in my break. But you have school then, haven’t you?”
“No, we have holidays, Sir”, did Tim answered glad, “Thank you, I will come every day I can!” Before Mr Muck could say anything Tim ran away to his class and waved at him.
He seemed to be very happy, and Mr Muck was glad, that he could make him so happy.

Tim came every day and each time he learned more and more. These hours brought new life in Mr Muck’s life. After a while they were like best friends. Tim told him about school, about the cute girl from the neighbouring class and every day he talked about his big dream and how he would realize it. Mr Muck smiled at this dreams, he knew that it was not so easy as the little boy imagined but he would not destroy his dream, furthermore he admired him for his ambition and his determination.

One day Tim did not come to the factory although Mr Muck wanted to show him the background of the chocolate waterfall.Mr Muck was very worried, because Tim came every day and if he couldn’t come he would call him. Thousand horror pictures came into his head: Maybe he had an accident or he had been kidnapped… Then he thought he lost his interest in the factory and wouldn’t come anymore…

Next day Mr Muck sat at his breakfast and read the newspaper. On the second page he read: “Little boy knocked down from a car! The 10-year-old Tim Angel was hit by a car when crossing the street…” Next to the article there was a picture of Tim. “No! That can’t be true!” His eyes were filled with tears when reading the article. Molly came into the kitchen seeing his husband crying reading the newspaper. Mr Muck told her about the little boy. She took the newspaper and read the article. “Is this your…? “, she asked fighting back the tears.
Her husband only nodded, went to the phone and told his boss that he was ill and that he wanted to take a week off, then he went into his bedroom and broke out in tears. He couldn’t understand how god could take this young life, although he had so many dreams, he wanted to do so many things in his life.
“And I? What have I reached in my life? Why can I live and this little boy had to lose his life!”
That week Mr Muck didn’t go out of the house. He was thinking about life, read many books about it. And one day he made up his mind. “I have to change something!”

He opened the curtains and the windows and let the sun into his bedroom. He had collected enough energy to reconstruct his life, this time everything would change.The first thing he did was to apply for the deputy manager job. He was a trusted worker, was almost never absent and he rarely took holidays, so he came onto the short-list.

After work he decided to walk home. On the way he saw an old lady with heavy shopping-bags, who was hustled by a teenager and fell down. Immediately he hasted to help her. “Can I help you, Madam? “ The older lady seemed to be a bit confused so Mr Muck helped her to stand up, took the shopping-bags and let her link her arm with him. “Thank you very much my son, the young boy there…” she thanked him.
“Yes, I saw him, these young people today…”
Mr Muck helped her to walk home. They had a little conversation, she asked for his name and where he worked, when they arrived at her home the old lady thanked him for his help and wished him a good life. On the bell he could read her name: Mrs. Happy.

Next morning at work the new owner summoned Mr Muck before he had his first tour. Was it because of his absence?
“You will not have your tour today, Mr Muck”, Mr Happy began and Mr Muck thought that his fear had come true.
“You will work by my side…as my assistant. Congratulations, you have the job.”
It was incredible, he, Mr Muck was the new deputy manager. “You are a good worker, loyal and faithful, in two years you had one week vacation and that due to a blow of fate… And my beloved mother told me about you.” It knocked Mr Muck for a loop. He didn’t know what to say. The old lady was the mother of his new boss, now he remembered the name on the bell: Mrs Happy.
Thenceforward Mr Muck earned so much money that he could save a bit for his next dream, like his little friend had done.

After three years of hard work he had enough money to realize it. It needed another year before it was complete: Mr Muck’s own Candy Factory.
“Ladies and Gentlemen”, Mr Muck announced on his grand opening, “I’m proud to introduce to you my new factory. I devote it to my little friend Tim, who hadn’t the chance to realise his dream to have his own Candy Factory and without him I wouldn’t stand in front of you today. He isn’t here anymore, but he is in our hearts forever and in the heart of this factory. So I name this new factory: “Tim’s Candy Dream”.

(D.I., Feb 2010)

 

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Light at the End of the Tunnel

This could be his last journey.
“Well, everything OK with you? “, the bus driver asks him as usual. Like all the other times he nods and says: “How about you? “ - "Yeah, depending on how you look at it, right?” The bus driver blinks and gives him a smile, half pitiful, half soothing.
He could not put his finger on it. Normally the conversation – if you count it as one – would be over at this point and he would have sought for a seat in the bus. But today the bus driver, whose name he still doesn't know after years of short conversations, speaks on: “I have heard about it.” He swallows. “I mean, about this situation, you know …” Yes, he knew. And probably with him the whole village of hundred souls he lives in. “Counter question: Who did not hear about it?” he asks smiling. “Just want to wish you the best of luck”. The doors of the bus close and it drives off. “Thanks, let’s see who it'll help.” He laughs and places himself backwards. He had already cracked better jokes and heard better jokes. All of them revolved around the same topic: his handicap.

It was in the paper, journalists had blocked his front door for days, and his face was on all the title pages.  “No light at the horizon for Milo Sattler”, “Eye for an eye” for Milo S.”, “Famous young composer on the brink!”
This morning didn't make a difference.

He had been the entire pride of his village. “Impossible”, everyone had said, but now the people nourished hope.
He had to accept it, ma
ke the best of it.
His mother had complained and cried a lot, his father kept silent.
And he?

He played the piano.

Two stops left. The world surely has changed. Nothing remains the same. It always goes on. Time, age, life. It must go on. Maybe this condition of the world was comforting him. Should he really risk it? Isn’t it good, the way it is now? He got used to it. What, if it becomes worse? Thoughts flash through his mind. One stop more. He could remain sitting as well. Just go on, talk to the bus driver, get out and go home. “No, I must not avoid it.” He pushes the stop button and gets out.

Hello, Doctor!" The doctor shakes his hand.
“Hey, Milo, are you prepared?
"
“I think so.
"
The nurse will give you an anaesthetic injection. You won’t feel anything. Don’t be afraid.”

 

On the next day in the newspaper:

Journalist: How do you feel after the successful operation, Mr Sattler?
Milo S.: Fine. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel (laugh).

 

(Q.B., Feb 2010)

 

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The Loss of Justice

Some people dream of money. Others dream of good marks. Millions of people dream of a partner, with whom they can start a family. But I dream of justice and freedom, although I've thought that would be one of the prerequisites in my life and in the country I live.

I am sitting in a dark room, staring at the dirty brown wall in front of me trying to reflect the events of the last 48 hours. Someone was murdered in the little town I live, while I was sitting at home watching TV.
I had not seen this person until they showed me a photo and asked me if I knew her. Her name was Anna. But that was later, at first her corpse was found near a little lake. Everybody in my little town was aghast, nobody could believe that this could have happen here, in this idyllic little town. I also heard about that, it was not avoidable. The newspaper, the TV, my neighbours, all of them did not know any other topic but the murder. Of course, I was also interested in that murder, I also wanted to know who the murderer was and I also could not believe that this could happen in our little town. But seriously: You usually show more horror than you really feel. After a few hours of real scare you begin to qualify, to displace, to forget the incident. So did I. That's why I was so confused when the police stood in front of my door and told me that I was arrested temporarily.

“What?”, I asked dumbfounded.
“You are suspected of murdering Anna Smith”, one of the policemen answered curtly. I knew it would have changed nothing, if I had said something like: “Oh no, I am not the murderer, please go away!”

So I followed them, I had no choice, but in no way I was really frightened that something could happen to me. In my eyes the whole situation was absurd and I thought in a few hours we all could laugh about it. Haha.
At the police station they told me that witnesses had seen somebody who was near the lake with Anna Smith. They described that person and the description fitted my appearance. So the witnesses came while I stood behind a wall of glass. They should testify if I was the person that they had seen with Anna near the lake. I felt like an animal in the zoo when I was standing there and I got into a panic. I could see their faces, their contracted brows and finally their agreement. At this moment, this short instant, they were able to change my life and to determine my destiny because I had no alibi.

The result is that I am sitting in a dark room staring at the dirty brown wall in front of me. I cannot grasp what has happened to me. It is like nightmare, something inconceivable. My mother visited me one or two or maybe ten hours ago. I lost my track of time. My mother was nervous and tense and she looked at her watch the whole time. I am not sure if she really believed in my innocence.

“You believe in my innocent, don't you? You know that this is all a fatal mistake?”, I asked her.
“Of course, my dear”, she said and smiled affectedly, “only a fatal mistake, you are right..”
I think, my mother could not believe that the police, a symbol of justice, could make such a mistake. She always believed in the power of justice and in those who accomplish that.

When she left I felt lonely, lonelier than before. I am on my own, nobody knows the truth except me. I nearly smile when I think of my dream, my wish,  two days ago. I dreamed of a new computer because I thought my old one was too slow. Now it seems like a previous life for me. Freedom and justice always were two factors which were self-evident for me. I never really thought about that because I have never had a reason to think about it. I mean, you start to miss something if it is not there anymore, then you understand how important it was for you. Normally you do not waste a thought about it, it is self-evident for you. The same here. Now I am dreaming of justice and freedom,  because I did not appreciate it enough. That is one thing I have learned in this dark room. But the only thing I can do now is hoping that I'll get a second chance.

(A.W., Feb 2010)

 

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