4 Read
Should he read it today?
No.
It would be too much, the overload, the passion and sensation of being shown another world with letters and symbols printed on paper.
How long had he stared at the ground instead of books or even people? God only knew his sad attempts of when his hand would slowly go towards the notebook his Aunty had put beside his bed on the small draw top. That instant recoil as he saw flashes of his Mother when she'd been alive; he knew, even if they hadn't told him. The signs of grief poured out of everything around Jun as if to drown him in the thickness it presented itself as. Like harsh smoke to suffocate an infant, his Aunty crying in the next room wallowing prayers for her dead sister.
Jun had become less ignorant but hated his reflection, the mirror in his room was replaced with black roses in a vase that he'd stare at hours on end. He wasn't arrogant, rather misunderstood, he wasn't like other teenagers either as much as his Aunty had wanted him to grow out of the bizarre nature of indifference. But he never changed, watching the ground beneath his feet walking everyday had been his corner, his centre and end. That may of sounded weird but watching ants gather dead carcasses of other insects or maybe a dead rodent had been far more appealing then talking.
He did speak but just like his mother when she had been alive, his Aunty experienced the same treatment her sister had.
'Guess he didn't hate you' His Aunty thought as Jun sat on the front porch looking at the grass as the wind ruffled his shoulder length black hair. 'He's still trying to find his way, I've been praying for him as I know you have been up there' his Aunty clasped her hands around her hot cup of tea as she watched her nephew. 'You gave birth to an odd one, heavens I can't even take him to a hair dressers without him breaking a mirror and paying for it'.
When he had started staying, she'd attempted to take her nephew to a hair salon and trim the wild mess on his head. However once he sat in the seat, the boy panicked and threw the closest object near him towards the mirror in front. Lucky his hair took long to grow even though it was straight, so over time it had only made progress to just past his shoulders.
Taking a sip of her tea she sighed 'He's still only 17 and he fears the world yet acts as if from another. As if our world bores him' placing her tea down once more after her second sip, the first signs of rains scattered upon the roof in disarray.
'I placed your note book on his bedside dear sister, I hope in due time he reads it and wakes up from wherever his mind is'.
She'd hoped that would be the case but next Autumn neither her or Jun saw the twist fate put on Jun.
***
He'd finally picked it up, why? Who knows, it felt right this time, like the atmosphere felt light as he read the first hand written dialogue.
~ My dear Jun, you will probably read this long after I am gone but I do not wish you to lose your love for books or to change regardless of others. I realised in all my years of living I had a tendency not to plan things out well or take responsibility for my actions. I was only 17 when I had you, I was scared, lost and didn't have another except your Aunty to turn too. ~
Jun read knowing already that his Mother was well and truly gone. Over the time he'd been with his Aunty he'd thought long and hard on why his Mother had shoulder such burden and asked for forgiveness? He was not God or a miracle worker, he was a kid and once a baby that she had no idea how to raise.
~ There were times I thought about abortion to get rid of you, a cruel notion yes but when your Father left me with you I couldn't cope. My anxiety and pain of trying to keep my job alive and well while you stayed at your Aunty's house for the day. I knew you were different the moment you were born, you did not cry nor did you really take interest in anything. Your first interest was books back then too when I dropped my small carrier note book in your cradle. ~
Jun read page after page through 3 days, a new topic and phase of when he was a kid; memories his Mother held dear. His Aunty watched Jun read her sisters note book day in and day out, her small smile and sad eyes watched the dull in Jun's eyes turn back to the lighter shade of a boy who had found himself once more. She was not sad that he seemed to be recovering but rather the dying words of her sister etched in her mind while handing that note book over.
"Give this to him," Her sister gasped as Tess's hands gripped the notebook and her hands,
"Please Merida, don't talk to much" Tess's pain and sadness made her voice croak and crack and her sister's once joy filled brown eyes seemed dull and black. She looked like skin and bone upon her death bed in her hospital gown. "I-I'll make sure my dear sister, your son will hear your wishes and last regrets" tears streamed as her own sister fell limp in her grasp.
She had done as promised while she cleaned the dishes. 'It's getting late, why isn't Jun back from school?'.
***
Jun still attended school by law, it hadn't changed because of the fact he hadn't touched books back then. But rather he read the floor boards and cracks like he did at his old house, although dead animals and ants harvesting them were always better.
But the school didn't offer much investment in troubled teenagers, it was
'do it yourself'
Or
'Get over it'
Even though his Aunty had asked for in school therapy class sessions, his therapist simply sat there scratching away her pen to paper as if learning something fascinating. But Jun hadn't even said a word, in fact he was certain if he had picked his nose and ate it, she'd be writing in detail of his snot and it's adventures to his mouth.
It became more tedious than good after awhile, he always passed the library too but never made effort to enter. It haunted him, his mother's words, sleep, eating and speaking became zero to none.
Yet that was over now, the note book his Mother poured everything into was in his hands as he walked home late. He'd been held up by some goons that had nothing better to do than call him 'nerd' or 'weirdo', that was senseless and stupid crap he never remembered or cared for.
Usually Jun was good with walking and dodging things all around him with his head in a book. Another skill besides his skimming madness, he was rather flexible and had impressive senses. A person, car, animal or rather anything that came at him while he read never touched a hair on his head.
But it was different this evening, his body that had not been in use was slightly off balanced and because of this a mere crack in the pavement had him stumble forward and drop his Mother's notebook. His emotionless face stayed the same watching the notebook as it seemed to drop in slow motion. However his body became tense and his stomach uneasy as he seemed to watch his Mother's words tumble out to the stone pavement.
'Unnecessary' he thought.
That was unnecessary, his Mother's last words didn't need to smear the concrete feet would walk upon and god knows what else. He'd always had a bitter hate for religious notions even if he never voiced them but if he met fate his words wouldn't be something they would have foresaw.
It took effort to reach down and pick something up but this rare occasion Jun didn't mind to recollect something he now held dear to him. Something that breathe life into him once more and showed him a new light on what reality was. To him books had been reality, fantasy, war, love, action and adventure, not a sad twist on a romance tale gone wrong. This notebook had made him understand a little clearer of what it meant to be alive and to truly cherish one's life, he was born with love even if not planned.
His Mother's regrets burdened his shoulders, he wanted to let her know that there was nothing to forgive, he didn't understand back then and maybe he hadn't really. But he would try to live better now that he was older and the future was something most wanted to prepare for.
Halfway picking up the book a loud blare of a car's engine without a muffler speed down the small road after stepping on the gas in a swing around the corner at the beginning.
'Unnecessary' once again, another thing that didn't need to happen.
But at that moment a small girl ran out, and with no book in his hand nor any other distraction besides the car and girl, his feet moved. A cry, a plead for help, a new trail or even just a morally based decision? His body pushed forwards towards the girl and he lunged to forcefully shove her back as the car was too fast to stop in time.
