All That Glitters Is Not Gold

Some nights I have the same dream. A recurring dream – a dream that you just can’t stop, even if you really want to. I dream that I’m sitting in a seat in a theatre. The seat is covered in red velvet and I can tell it’s old because of the way that there’s a rip on the side and the armrests are worn through and shiny, from the hundreds and thousands of arms that have rested on them over the years. There are rows of seats stretching out in front of me and rows of seats reaching into the distance behind me, but they’re all empty. I’m all alone in the theatre, except for one other person.

Alex is on the stage, standing in a single spotlight. She starts to dance, slowly at first, but then faster and faster, until she’s whirling and twirling so fast that I forget to breathe – I’m so sure that she’ll fall. There’s never any music, but it doesn’t matter because Alex is the music. The way she moves is so beautiful, so everything, that music couldn’t compete with her. Definitely not me on my violin.

And then, suddenly, she stops. I clap as loudly as I can – I clap until my hands hurt. I stand up and cheer and call her name.

‘Alex! Alex! I’m over here!’

She stands on the stage, eyes sparkling, with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. She’s breathing deeply, out of breath, and I can feel her excitement and pride; it’s radiating out from her in purple waves.

I want to run to her, to hug her and tell her how amazing she is, to tell whoever will listen that this is my big sister. I feel like I’ll burst, I’m so proud.

And then something catches Alex’s attention and she turns slightly, looking right in my direction. I wave and shout, but she looks straight past me. I spin round to see who’s behind me – whose name is on her lips – but there’s nobody there.

When I turn back, Alex has gone. This is when I wake up. When the dreams first began, I’d be sweating and crying. Mum would come running in and I’d try to explain why I was so sad. But, after a while, the crying stopped. Now I wake up and lie in the dark, looking up at my glow stars on the ceiling. I wonder why, not once, even though I’ve been having this dream for over a year, Alex has never looked at me.