Tears streamed Jonathan’s eyes; he sighed heavily and closed his eyes steadily laying himself on to his rucksack propped up like a pillow in the college quadrangle. He breathed heavily soaking in the warm afternoon sun. His breathing steadied and his mind began to drift.
As he breathed in he started to feel warmth in the air which was initially soothing, but after what felt like 20 minutes, it started to suffocate him. He coughed and tried to go back to sleep. He yanked his hoodie from his side and as he lifted it to his face to shield his face from the scorching sun, he felt sand tinkle all over his face. He spat and coughed as he sat up, opening his eyes and gasped.
He was in the middle of a desert with ghastly winds. The sand violently exfoliated Jonathan’s face. He stood up, to find his bearing and was slammed down by the intensity of the wind. He quickly covered his face and nose with his hoodie reaching into the sand for his rucksack. He couldn’t feel it. His hand darted in the sand frantically looking for it. The winds gushed past him, he fell face first to the ground.
The storm howled passed Jonathan, whipping him violently with sand. He screamed more out of fear than pain. And suddenly it fell silent. He brushed the sand around him and arose. He peeled off his hoodie and was saturated with the scent of dandelions. The dewy fresh smell sent him back to his childhood.
He saw a little boy break free from his mother who was yelling at him as he chuckled adorably.
“Slow down Jonah, if you don’t you are going to get it when I catch you!” The woman called out.
The boy sped past Jonathan laughing and fell about 2 metres away sending a cloud of dandelions into the sky. The boy turned and spread eagle and flapped his arms up and down as he spread his legs apart and together. Sending more dandelions up to the cloudless blue sky.
Jonathan couldn’t help himself and fell backwards into the dandelions and started to imitate the little boy smiling from ear to ear. The warmth of the sun kissing his face, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so free.
Then suddenly a violent crash and thunder startled him. He was alone in the field; the child and his mother were gone. The rain started to pour and Jonathan was surrounded and was submerging in pools of mud. He started to scream for help as he fought to get out. Then he fell with a thud to the ground. Laughter saturated the air, Jonathan opened his eyes; he was in the lecture hall with Ms Maleche staring down at him with her spectacles lowered to the bridge of her nose.
“Alright there sleeping beauty?” She spurted sarcastically; laughter amplifying.
Jonathan nodded; his red eyes slowly adjusting to the light in the room. He sat on his chair and Ms Maleche resumed her lecture.
“Turn to page 97, what do you think the sandstorm symbolizes in this story?” Maleche posed to the class.
Jonathan looked around confused, Ruth who sat next to him, pointed at the floor. He saw a book and lifted it to his desk reading the title, “The Weird Adventures of Willy Nilly.
Jonathan schemed through the various chapters and froze, had he just lived Willy Nilly’s life? Why did it feel real? Was he dreaming? Jonathan stood up; he needed to wash his face and wake up. As he stood, he noticed his shoes had mud and his hoddie was unusually dusty. He froze.