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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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Read books online » Fiction » Dei Dreamer by Bethlehem Steele (reading an ebook .TXT) 📖

Book online «Dei Dreamer by Bethlehem Steele (reading an ebook .TXT) 📖». Author Bethlehem Steele



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killing them never crossed my mind.’
“…If I don’t do this. I’ll never get him out of here.” He aims the weapon to his head. “You understand right?”
Dei nods his head, ‘You can shoot yourself! Go ahead,’ he thinks to himself.
The nine foot tall man grabs a hold of the guard rail and Dei can see it give in his grasp. Watching him make his way to his feet is like watching steam travel though old pipes. At every joint some escapes sighing as it does. The con levels the gun off on the boys’ chest, “Sorry my friend…”
“Just wait!” A voice replies from the side. Officer Teasdale managed to sneak up on the pair as they talked. “It don’t have to be like this. We’ve already lost two men. We don’t need to lose another.”
“It’s the Devil. I can’t stop!” And with that a teary eyed Tommy Gun turns back to the boy and squeezes down on the trigger.”
Dreamer screams.
Teasdale Side screams and presses down on the trigger of his weapon.
Tommy Gun stumbles back into the guard rail. The guard rail makes a loud strenuous noise and with little warning snaps backwards taking the convict along with it over the side. Teasdale looks down into the pit. Sprawled out on the concrete is a huge man. A red halo surrounds his head. There will be no more terrible thoughts for him-just peace. No more at all.
“Boy are you okay?” The guard whips around to see tuffs of cotton gently falling in the cell.
Who would have ever thought that all you would need to have Christmas inside a prison was the incarceration of a nine year old boy.
“Boy?” Teasdale Side grabbed a hold of the bars. “Boy?”

-Chapter 4-

“Nice to see a man living up to his name-” He stopped suddenly to pick up something very odd for his room. “And where did these feathers come from?” He asked looking at one strangely.
The familiar voice awoke Dreamer from his sleep. The harsh sun was a change of scenery from the constant darkness of his cell, and his eyes had not quite adjusted yet. The blurred faces of his classmates were all around him-staring. They were smiling, he could tell that, and quite possibly at him. The boy rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slowly things began to take shape. First a chalk board, then cheesy school posters, and finally his teacher.
“Hello there!” He stood right in front of Dreamers face looking his pupil dead in the eyes. The boy followed his teachers face to his shoulders, then to his outstretched arm-to his harry hand, and finally to his extended index finger. Which he already knew was pointing to the door and indelibly the principals’ office. He gulped down hard. It felt like a huge piece of moms dry turkey had disappeared into his stomach. He was doing that a lot lately-gulping down hard. He gathered what little books he had and slid from underneath his desk.
While walking down the hall he ran his hands against the lockers; a thought entered his mind. It was a saying the principal had used on him the last time he was in his office. Principal has pal on the end, because that’s what we are! “We’re your pals!” He could still envision the huge phony grin he carried on his face at the time. It was a PSA announcement if he’d ever seen one.
A line of combination locks swayed back and forth as Dreamer went past. The principals’ office was around the next corner and straight down the hall. At the intersection hanging from the ceiling was a huge orange banner that read, ‘Happy All Hollows Eve’ in black bubble letters. If he was tall enough, and could jump that high, Dreamer imagined he just may have ripped it down. ‘All Hollows Eve,’ he thought. “Kids everywhere else called the holiday Halloween! But not us up here in Smaller, Alaska!” He mumbled. But the town name says it all! He had once taken a trip, not too long ago, to the greater DC area to visit relatives. They visited the museums: Air and Space, Smithsonian, and Natural History, to name a few. And everywhere they wound up small talk eventually followed. The conversations usually went like this:
Hi we’re such and such from blah, blah, blah! They smile big as they say this of course.
And my moms’ incredibly big smile goes here. “Oh we’re the Dreamers from Smaller, Alaska.”
Enter silent awkward pause here.
Oh, is that in America? Well I’m sure it is since it has to do with Alaska right? Queue the cheesy nervous laugh.
Everybody always thought it was another state. Like the secret fifty first state or something. And I’m like no it’s a town inside of Alaska hello hence Smaller, Alaska! But that’s how we act in Smaller. Like the secret fifty first state, especially by doing things like this-trying to be all different and what-not. We are probably the only kids in the whole world to refer to Halloween as All Hollows Eve, or even know that it actually means Halloween! He looks to the banner with disdain. ‘Man I wish I could reach that cheesy banner! I’d rip it down and be a hero,’ he thought.
The principals’ office was stuffier than usual. As if alternative rock was a panacea for all that entered through these doors. If music did indeed sooth the savage beast, the boy doubted it was ‘Yah Mo B There’ they were referring too. Dreamer sat in the waiting area and looked on to the bickering grown-ups huddled like wildebeest in front of him. The secretary usually would have noticed him as soon as he walked in, but she was to busy being a flibbertigibbet to notice. With the big party coming up the office was overrun by over protective moms, and nonchalant dads who were doing exactly what he was doing, sitting and watching. Only a pride need enter this herd. For a single adolescent male would be crushed under the hooves of their never-ending babble.
“Oh my God Dei,” she finally said. “What have you done now child?”
He shrugs.
Shaking her head, in torpor no doubt, she picks up the phone and presses a button. “Yes. You know who is here again…yes again!”
‘I haven’t been here that much. Just eight times in the past two weeks!’
“Well Mr. Lightwind is too busy to attend to you right now. So I guess you’ll just have to stay here until the end of classes.”
‘Great!’
“Pull out whatever you were studying in Mr. Peach’s class and get to it.”
Misses Tape was a rather nebbish woman. She always did what she was told even if it was from someone other then her boss. She was also very obese. She didn’t just sit in her chair, she poured out from it. Her face left a very small section for her eyes, noise, and mouth for her cheeks required much of it. Her arms were thick and soft and her hands looked to be swollen at anytime of the day you choose to look at them. Her legs were left up to the imagination because they were always covered by some sort of flower printed dress. But the consensuses in the school was that she taped two naughty children, one to each leg, and kept them there until they promised to be good. Ralph Upperbottom is the only kid sane enough to confirm this. The others are believed to be in mental institution somewhere far, far away-out of the reach or nosey investigative reporters, and curious law enforcement personnel. The school children called her Jabba the Hut in secret. But if she ever found out that they did call her this, I do believe she would be so ashamed and hurt she would quit right there on the spot.
Dreamer began to slide his math book from under the stack he had on his lap when a bit of brilliance hit him. To countervail Misses Tapes request he thought to tell her he had lent the book to another student in the class who had forgotten their own book. But a simple call would debunk, his scheme not to mention put a tingly sensation in his bottom, which he often got before a whooping. He tilted over and slid his hand across his back side. He was surprised he had not gotten the tingly sensation already. Then he realized no one threatened to call his mother yet either. He looked up, like something inside him had said too, and a sudden rush of heat consumed his body. There sitting across the room was a brown eyed starlet covering her giggles with her hand. ‘Oh man.’ His face was flushed. Now she was using both hands. The giggles were coming out even louder.
“Checking for a tingly bottom Dreamer?” She whispered.
His bottom wasn’t tingling but his stomach was in a knot. How did she know his name? This was the first time he had ever seen her, so it must be the first time she has seen him. But nonetheless she had known his name. But what to say, for he didn’t know hers. Another bit of brilliance hit him and he turned to Misses Tape. “I have to use the bathroom!” He hoped up out of his seat so fast the woman hadn’t even a chance to part her lips to begin to state a reply. All his books slid to the floor. He had forgotten about those in his attempt to make a hasty retreat. She was giggling again, he was screwing up badly! The boy collected his books and with his head down proceeded to the door. He was not at his coolest today. As a matter of fact this was his most un-coolest day ever.
“Psst!” The little girl summoned his attention. Dreamer paused. He wanted to say something, anything, if not to bolster his image, at least to restore some dignity back into his quixotic self. But his mouth was shut tight. Embarrassment can do that; it also empties all the saliva from ones mouth and dries the lips. The little girl leaned forward as to tell a secret, “This is the most fun I have ever had in the principals’ office!” Her smile was so beautiful he had’nt caught himself starring until it was too late. “You know there are other parts to my face!” She smiled. Dreamer, completely saturated in embarrassment at this point, bolted through the door and down the hall. Forget that the bathroom was in the opposite direction. His was not a flight of necessity, but one of haste. With his back against the wall and his heart beating thought his chest he felt he was far enough away to try and regain his composure. A quick peek around the corner to make sure no one, and especially not her, was following and he was free to express himself the only way he knew how.
“Holly Jesus sweet mama!” He screamed.
“Little boy what us your problem?” A voice to his left asked.
Dreamer eyes grew like muffins and he stiffened straighter then a board. Just barely able to turn his head around he saw the janitor starring at him in complete bewilderment. Dreamer turned the corner without hesitation and was once again blazing a trail down the hall. At least this time he was headed in the right direction for the bathroom. “What the hell is wrong with these children today?” The janitor asked himself while clicking the buffer back on. “My goodness! Just going to scream like that?”
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