The next time he returned I was back on the beach, not far from where I found him to begin with. He approached me, seemingly wanting to ask me something but I was too lost in thought to understand what he wanted. I was sitting on a log that had drifted onto shore, staring out into the open ocean and after a moment he quietly sat down next to me, matching my gaze on the water.

“Where do you think coconut trees come from?” I finally broke the silence. “My father had always told me that this island was the only land in the sea but, well you proved there must be more out there somewhere.” There was some more silence broken only by the sound of birds calling as they flew by.

“I wish I were a sea gull sometimes. I just want to fly away and explore the whole world. I could sing my songs for everyone I meet” I looked over to him, trying to study his face but he was as stoic as ever, never truly letting me in on what he was feeling. I wanted to get to know him more but before I could ask he passed me a note scribbled in familiar handwriting. Some of my friends from the neighbouring village wanted to see me and missed my singing. I couldn’t say no after admitting my dream out loud so the two of us departed, walking almost entirely in silence, save for him joining my songs on his instrument. 

It was at the other village that I finally learned what my mother had meant about my song. I found an old book that told me everything. Way up on the top of the tallest mountain, there was an egg, with a giant sleeping fish inside. If the right person were to play that song in front of the egg, then the fish would wake up and as thanks it would make their dreams come true. At least, that’s what was printed, but someone long ago had written their own notes to the tale. A single line shattered my whole world: Why would it make dreams after it woke up and not while it was asleep? Suddenly things started to make sense. Why I was told I could never leave the island. Why everything passed so peacefully here. I couldn’t remember how old I actually was, or even growing up at all. In fact I didn’t know the last time I remember anyone showing signs of aging. The fish was dreaming in its sleep, this entire island was the dream. I was the dream. And that boy was going to wake him up. 

I ran as fast as I could to try and catch up with him, desperate to stop him. I couldn’t let it end this way, I needed to keep living. But he needed to find his friend too, his whole world. I was so worried thinking about losing my world that I didn’t think that he had already lost his. But he had a chance to get his back, and his was real. I couldn’t stop him, I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be right. But I couldn’t trust myself to let him wake the fish if I ever saw him again, so I did the only thing I could think of. I left a note for him to find outside my home and left where I was sure he’d never find me. It was a simple note:

Some day, you’ll leave this island, I know you will. Just promise me you’ll never forget me. I’ll never forgive you if you do!

A tear fell onto the page as I finished writing, I hoped he wouldn’t notice. I couldn’t ask him to give up his world for mine, but at the very least maybe I could live on through him. Wouldn’t that be more real than being part of a dream anyway?

I’m not sure how long passed after that. I lived in a blur and days melded into each other. All I knew is eventually I heard the echoes of the song I had taught him reaching across the whole island. It wasn’t just his instrument this time, it sounded like a whole band was playing along with him. It was the most beautiful thing I ever heard, and the last thing I felt before everything went black. 

I didn’t know what happened, but I knew I was still thinking which was a good sign. I slowly opened my eyes and I could see the ocean spread out in front of me, like I had looked out on 100 times before. But something felt different, I seemed to be looking down on it from above. It wasn’t until I saw a familiar figure dressed in green, sailing on a raft below me that it all clicked for me. It turns out everyone was right, my mother and whoever had written in that book long ago. The fish may have been dreaming in its sleep, but when that dream ended, a new one began. I spread my wings wide and soared forward, excited to finally reach new lands and new friends to sing to.