Laughing at My Nightmare by Shane Burcaw Read Free Book Online Page B

(didn’t know that’s what it was at the time) near my house and thought it was cool, a little secret squishy treasure. I asked my brother to hand me the unknown object and began massaging it between my fingers because the soft sack of mystery felt amazing.
    It popped, scaring the shit out of me, and covering my lap and wheelchair in red paint. My mom was thrilled.
    Anyway, my daydreams about massive paintball fights seem kind of weird now, given my aversion to guns as a child.
    The daydreams usually took place when I was trying to fall asleep. Does that still count as a daydream? I don’t care. They began with team selections. In my head I’d see a never-ending row of everyone I knew, or at least the people I liked. There were always two teams: my team and the other team that consisted of everyone I didn’t pick for my team. I’d go down the line of potential assassins and weigh the pros and cons of having him or her on my team. Pat’s older brother was always a given. He was fast and tall and a great shot, at least in the close quarters environment of Pat’s living room, where I’d seen him perform. My dad, hmmm, probably not. His strength and protective nature were definite selling points, but I didn’t think he’d be able to swiftly and silently navigate the halls of my school where the battle royal was taking place. There was no way in hell he’d be able to perform a diving-across-the-hallway-while-firing-his-gun maneuver without getting hurt, even in my land of make believe.
    Teams were picked and the fight would begin with my team and me huddled at one end of the school. I was in charge and whispered directions to them about who would be traveling together and what our methods of attack would be. “Stay inside the alcoves in the walls. Diving is the best way to avoid being hit.” I was obsessed with diving.
    Oh, I guess it’s important to mention that I wasn’t in a wheelchair in these daydreams. Wheelchairs aren’t exactly stealthy, and back then I was able-bodied in all of my dreams.
    The most vivid part of my fantasies started when I set off down the dark hallway toward the other team. After handing out orders to my teammates, I always took off on my own. (There’s probably a deep-seated, psychological reason for this fact.) Where the dream had previously been from third-person point of view, it now switched to first person. I became myself traveling through the building, constantly checking my paintball cartridge to make sure I had enough ammo, scanning the hallway for enemies, ducking into alcoves, diving all over the place for no reason. When I did come across a member of the other team, we inevitably entered into a dramatic standoff, both of us pressed into the safety of an alcove, peeking out every so often, firing off erratic paintballs towards the other, more diving across the hall for no reason. I always won. My team of fighters never reentered the daydream. Instead, I’d clear out the building by myself, and either fall asleep celebrating my victory or snap out of my dream to imagine the awesomeness of being able to someday dive through the hallways of my school playing paintball with my friends if my disease was ever cured. Since I wasn’t confined by my wheelchair in the dream, the possibilities for entertainment were endless.

chapter 13
    young love
    My first serious crush occurred in fifth grade. This was the age when most of my friends began to pair off, or at least that’s what I understood from all the rumors that floated around the cafeteria during lunchtime. Did you hear that Joey touched Megan’s butt during gym class? Ryan went to Cassie’s house last night and her parents caught them making out! Did you see the used condom by the monkey bars? Brian claims it’s his!
    Everyone starts to get a little horny in fifth-grade, and I was no exception. At this point, I still had no conception of dating and relationships. Many of my friends were girls. I often hung out with them