[ WP ] Write a story about a person 's life , part as a child , dreaming big , and part as an adult , living out those dreams .

The afternoon nurse must have forgotten to shut the window at the end of the ward, because it was the gentle tapping of glass against wooden frame that woke Derek from dreaming. The dream was hazy and increasingly distant as he sat up and blinked away the blurred vision, but he remembered being afraid. He moved a hand cautiously beneath the duvet to check the sheets were dry, because he was no stranger to nightmares, and it wouldn ’ t be the first time that one of the nurses would have to change his spoiled bed after a long night. He felt no wetness and breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
 He withdrew his hand and looked at the multi-coloured clock on the wall, glowing red and green through the gloom. Though he had missed the lesson on reading the time in class – he momentarily paused to curse this kidney infection once again – his mother had patiently tried to teach him on her own, and he was almost certain that it was early evening. The sun had already set, and storm clouds were just beginning to roll in from the horizon. Derek liked storms. He made a mental note to ask his mother about them later, when she got back from the cafeteria. 
 
 “ Sir? ” 
 
 The playful voice came from the edge of his bed, and he turned his attention from the window to the face of a smiling stranger. He hadn ’ t been called ‘ sir ’ before, but he liked the sound of it, and mirrored the man ’ s wide grin. 
 
 “ Your name is Derek – is that correct? ” 
 
 Derek nodded with a small, instinctive laugh. 
 
 “ Well, I ’ m Dr. Harris, and I ’ m here to ask you a few questions. ” He paused and lowered the clipboard in his hands. It took him a few seconds to check the rest of the ward, and turn back to his patient. “ Aren ’ t you a little lonely in here? This place is usually teeming with kids your age. ” 
 
 “ Most of them left, ” responded Derek with a shrug. He hadn ’ t known most of their names – they spent all their time playing or sleeping, and his bedridden state didn ’ t lend itself well to strenuous play. Of the few he had spoken to, only one or two were kind, with the rest prodding into his private life in a manner that made his mother shoo them away. “ I think it ’ s just me – but my mom ’ s coming soon. ” 
 
 The window swung open as a gust of wind forced its way into the ward, and in the distance, a roar of thunder could be heard. Derek turned his head eagerly to watch raindrops begin to splash on the windowsill, sending tiny droplets of icy water on to the tiled floor. 
 
 “ I ’ ll shut the window, ” Dr. Harris said as he shot Derek a reassuring smile. “ If you ’ re scared, I can stay here for a little bit, if you like. It ’ s not nice to be on your own in a storm. ” 
 
 Derek shrugged again. “ I like it, ” he remarked absent-mindedly as he watched for lightning. “ You don ’ t have to stay. ” 
 
 “ The shift ’ s been pretty slow, ” the doctor responded. Derek didn ’ t know what he meant, but he didn ’ t want to question it, as it might draw his attention away from the precious chance of witnessing a lightning strike. “ I ’ ll stay for a little while. I like storms, too. ” 
 
 The child looked up and met the man ’ s eyes. They were almost the same shade of brown as his mother ’ s, although he couldn ’ t tell for sure in the half-light. His mother had those dark circles beneath her eyes too, though she wouldn ’ t admit to it when he pointed it out. “ Why do you like storms? ” 
 
 Dr. Harris didn ’ t smile at the boy this time, but just watched the storm rage outside for a while, secretly longing to see lightning himself. “ It reminds me that no matter how hard we try, there may always be a natural force that we just can ’ t fight, ” he muttered quietly. He saw Derek ’ s brow furrow in confusion, and his face slipped back into the well-polished smile. “ Plus, have you heard how they happen? ” 
 
 Derek shook his head, and leaned closer to the man as what felt like the world ’ s greatest secret was unwrapped to him, mysterious and enchanting and wonderful. Just as soon as his mother returned, and Dr. Harris had the answers he wanted, Derek had mentally given himself the coat and clipboard that the doctor wore and was already practising the man ’ s mannerisms in his head. 
 
 -- - 
 
 “ Doctor! ” 
 
 He clenches his fists and feels the muscles in his back seize up. His pocket buzzes and he fights to prevent himself from slamming it against the wall. 
 
 “ Excuse me, doctor! ” 
 
 His pocket buzzes again. He wonders how long it would take to run down to the lobby and launch it into the fish tank behind the reception desk. 
 
 “ Derek! ” 
 
 At last accepting the calls to be directed at him, he turns around and sees two nurses sprinting towards him along the hospital corridor. It was painted blue and covered in popular cartoon characters as part of a fundraiser last spring, and he notices that the tail of a Disney creature is beginning to chip away from the wall as the nurses both try to push their stories out at the same time. He holds up one trembling palm and waits for their voices to halt. 
 
 He points to the first nurse – a plump, red-faced lady who once told him that her husband was an undertaker, and could get a “ decent rate on coffins if the need arises ” – and directs her to a passing colleague, who speeds up as soon as his name is mentioned to avoid the inevitable barrage of questions. From the second nurse, who is around his age and has been rejecting his advances for the three years she has worked here, he asks for directions to her patient. 
 
 Her name is June, and her sleek black hair is pulled into a ponytail that is just beginning to fray with constant movement. Derek thinks for a moment about her hair, and even considers reaching out to touch it. June is not the prettiest on the ward, but she laughs at his jokes, and she brightens a room with only her presence. If she would allow it, he would put a ring on her finger in this corridor, on one knee in his suit and white coat. 
 
 As she slowly pushes open the door of the children ’ s ward, the thoughts of her in a wedding dress ebb away until Derek is left with only the blank professionalism that he has cultivated over twenty years of medical work. Though the years have drained his memory somewhat, every step into the children ’ s ward reminds him of another moment from his own hospital stay as a child. He used that doctor ’ s explanation of storms in a science experiment once, and won second place – yet another thing to thank the man for, he thinks a little cynically as he walks towards the only occupied bed in the room. 
 
 Derek pulls back the blue curtain, and pokes his head in. A lesser doctor might recoil at the sight of the little girl waiting for him, but he simply pastes on the well-worn smile and moves into the room. “ Miss? ” he asks tentatively. He has tried for twenty years to assume the style of Dr. Harris, but it ’ s not quite right yet. 
 
 She slowly turns her head to meet his eyes and fixes him with a silent stare. He reckons that she must be around fourteen or fifteen, though she is bald and frail, so it is difficult to tell. He quickly checks the clipboard handed to him by June as he entered the room. “ Gina, is it? ” 
 
 She nods. She coughs. He edges towards the chair by her bed. 
 
 “ I ’ d just like to check up on you quickly, Gina. It won ’ t take a moment. ” 
 
 The girl doesn ’ t respond – he guesses she has heard all of this before, and knows now that nothing she says can keep it from happening, and so she would only be wasting precious time and breath by speaking up. He pulls a stethoscope from his pocket. 
 
 Almost as if waking from a nightmare, she jolts up suddenly and holds out a bony hand towards him. Derek jumps but regains composure quickly and pauses, stethoscope in hand. “ Doctor, how long is this going to go on for? ” She pauses, swallows, coughs again, continues. “ How long do I have? ” 
 
 He looks at the clipboard as if the answer might rise up from the black ink scribbles about medication and dosages on the paper there. She doesn ’ t relent or change her tone – there isn ’ t even a flicker of fear in her voice. He mentally praises her for that, but knows that she will not get anything from him that will satisfy her desire for vitality, and lowers the clipboard again. “ I don ’ t know. ” 
 
 Gina meets his eye with a slight frown. “ You don ’ t? ” 
 
 Derek shakes his head. 
 
 “ You ’ re supposed to know everything, aren ’ t you? What, were all those years of medical school not enough? ” she snaps. Her voice tries to rise above a pained whisper, but like a hollow-boned bird without the strength to fly, it sinks back into a monotonous murmur. 
 
 “ I don ’ t know everything. ” His pocket buzzes but he holds a hand over it to muffle the sound. “ Who does? ” 
 
 She doesn ’ t quite manage a laugh, but gives a slight snort in reply, and the rehearsed smile creeps back into Derek ’ s aching face. 
 
 “ Where ’ s your mother, Gina? ” 
 
 The girl looks down at her hands, running her fingertips over the jaundiced skin. She won ’ t meet his eye now. “ I think they ’ ve all forgotten about me, ” she wheezes after a while. “ They haven ’ t been back in a while, at least. ” 
 
 Derek rests one hand gently on the edge of her duvet – not close enough to touch her, and she makes sure of this by instinctively shifting an inch away, but close enough for his hand to be seen. “ I can stay here for a little bit, if you like. ” 
 
 Gina cautiously meets his gaze. “ Why? ” 
 
 Because he knows the feeling. “ Because it ’ s not nice to be on your own, and it ’ s been a pretty light shift. I have some time. ” 
 
 She doesn ’ t respond, but she doesn ’ t protest as he leans back slightly and settles into the chair. Eventually, her eyes close, and she drifts gently into sleep. He puts the stethoscope into his pocket, leaves the cubicle and watches sunset descend over the hospital as he thinks of those dark circles under the eyes of Dr. Harris.
