Sleep as a Hobby

I think… … I’m dead.

I can’t be too sure, because I do not recall the time of my death, and I’m now floating around the air like a ghost. My body is defying a law of gravity, but I do not have any sensation of flying. My vision is on the air, that’s all. Anyway I’m now stalking a middle school girl with impressive cherry blossom coloured hair like Sakura (from Naruto). She is a ghost whisperer who can ‘see,’ and communicate with (almost a ghost-like) myself.
I cannot remember what we talked about, but there was another yellow hair girl who can also ‘talk’ to me like a normal person.

‘I wonder if kids nowadays can talk to a ghost.’

Other students in a classroom have not noticed my presence yet, so I guess those two girls are special. Maybe they are best friend who sharing secrets about a ghost.

Another intriguing fact was that the teacher in front of the classroom can ‘see’ me. She looked directly into my eyes, “Who’s the intruder~ hm?” And gave a sly fox like smile that mazes other students.

I did have a hectic day with the cherry blossomed hair and we left the school together. Those two ghost whisperers lives in different directions, I hesitated for a moment to choose who to follow. ‘Yellow hair?’
I decided to follow the cherry blossomed hair that had spent more time with me.
As we went down for a subway station, she kindly offered me some white cream

‘But I’m a ghost…’

She insisted that it was full of nutrients good for my skin. I hesitantly took her offer.
Ha… (sigh) I’m a ghost… who cares about skin?

I decided to reconcile this situation by applying the cream on my face. A bit of cream had a sweet taste, there must be some honey mixed with it.
I do not recall of getting on a subway, but I met a very scary looking obese lady along the way. For some reason, the lady was steaming with anger. All of sudden this lady; coloured with red and purple, roared out an evil dark cry and stormed toward us as we casually walked.

‘I guess this cream is tempting her.’

She must have some kind of diabetes, addicted to sugar. I yelled and abruptly pushed the Cherry Blossom Hair.

Run quick! Get up the (subway station) stairs!!

I faced this dangerous lady charging like a mad bull.
I struggled with her, tossing and slapping her ugly and oily face. A boldness locked inside my heart was released and I won! Before I could even taste a momentous victory, I ran upstairs; worrying about the girl.

‘Is she safe? She should be…’
The fat hazard is now clear, but I still shivered with unknown easiness.
She was lifelessly lying face down on asphalt. She is only few steps away from the stairs… Why? Is she lacking stamina? Fortunately there was a shabby hospital across a street. I put her left arm around my neck, and carried or rather dragged her towards the building at a green signal. Her unconscious body kept slipping away from my grip; drooping. Is it because I’m a ghost? I’ve been fine till… now… her limp body is heavier than usual.

Just before I finished crossing, I lost the grip, and she went head first, hitting the cold, black asphalt. Is she really dead? Is it because of me? Maybe I was unconsciously harming her by stealing her energy. Why is she like this?

Ah… a sign’s going to be red now… need to hurry up. I gathered my anxiety and nimbly avoid cars with temper. I barely held her by my side, and finally entered an automatic glass door to the small hospital.

This poor looking hospital even had a reception. A leisurely sited nurse and an old homeless looking man, lazily crossing his legs on a long, comfy but worn out chair where patients are supposed to sit. The man was supposedly a doctor wearing a white gown; turning yellow. He absent mindedly stared at us for a second; he put one arm on the chair and held his cigarette between his fingers. He lightly tapped it into a cigar pot, and bit it again.

He snatched the girl away from me, roughly laying her on the chair for a close inspection.
I got agitated and frustrated with his lame behavior, but couldn’t say a word to someone who might figure the problem. He exceedingly fanned my anger with a deep puff of smoke, and slowly asked,

“What do you think?”

‘Such a Quack Doctor!! Is he asking ME for a symptom?’

I fidgeted with anxiety and briefly answered, “Too much sugar?” He seemed disappointed and listed “Tomato… Vegie…” and comfortably threw himself on an opposite chair with arousing grey dust; lying.

OMG Cherry Blossomed Hair is now twitching her whole body.

Is she really dying? For going upstairs? She’s kind… what do I do?

I decided to just give the story the old, bored looking quack Dr. wanted:
Once upon a time there was a three-year-old baby. A ten-year-old kid was fretting with its wooden expression. So the kid tried to grab its attention by shaking noisy toys. But the chic three-year-old wouldn’t budge. The kid pushed a sound making book, and a little bell that suppose to give a giggle. When he was finished, he cautiously looked at three-years-old with twinkling expectation.
The three-year-old was still blankly stared at one point, but the kid felt the world stopped.... for a moment.

The three-year-old smiled.

The kid thought. For 10 seconds,
the world seems to hold a breath around the three-year-old.
Yes… you know… that… I was unknowingly ignoring the girl by trying to pick a right word to describe this.

The quack Dr. tired of waiting gave another puff, and continued.

Ye~ah… right…
so for 10 seconds the ten-year-old kid fell in LOVE with three-year-old…

Tut… …

Those saucy boys… already in….… Love?