Chapter 11: Seeing Black Truth

Hue (Tigger warning for depression, suicidality.)

When the paramedics got there, June was conscious enough for them to be able to determine that it was simply a concussion. He wouldn't talk to anyone. He just sat in thought as tears fell into his lap.

I called my mom, who raced to the school to talk to the paramedics. After a while, we got into the car and went home. The girl, whose name I learned was Cassie, Cas for short, lived nearby, so she rode with us. Mom helped June to his room when we arrived while I stayed outside to talk to Cas.

"June Sekin was really loved around the school. The teachers loved him, and that's how his paintings ended up back there. When he died, his sister didn't want his paintings, and the teachers didn't want them thrown in the garbage. So that's why the shelves are there; the teachers didn't want to let him go. As I said, club members are told that if they as much as touch that corner, they will be in serious trouble. The kids in the club are good; they respect that. Only a handful of students have attempted to look, but our supervising teacher watches it like a hawk. It's also our responsibility to watch it. So that's why club officials get told, so they understand the reason it's protected. It's quite secretive, but for a good reason. They only want to protect the memories of him at school. That's all I have to say, what about you? Who is he?"

I knew that anything I said, she wouldn't believe it.

"I don't know who he is." That was the truth, after all.

"What do you mean? Do you know anything about him? And he lives with you?"

"He had nowhere else to go. He had been living in that cottage alone, so my dad asked him to stay with us."

"I did hear that he was living in the cottage, but hasn't that been abandoned since June Sekin died?" I nodded. "So why was he there?"

"I also don't know," I turned to her, "nothing makes sense to me."

"What does that even mean? Let me ask this. How is he related to the Sekins? He looks a lot like April Sekins, at least from the pictures I've seen."

"I know, that's why it doesn't make sense. Would you believe me if I told you June wasn't from the world we know right now?"

"Do you mean, like, time travel? Sure." I was dumbfounded.

"You wouldn't even question it? Not even a little?"

"Well, of course, I would, but I'm assuming you have some kind of proof to prove it. I know you aren't the kind of person to throw out some outlandish thing like that without reason." I grabbed my bag; I remembered that I still had the wrapper from the hospital.

"Here," I handed it to her, "Manufactured 2037. June also had a watch that said Made in 2030."

"Interesting. Well, I believe it. I've never seen this brand before."

"Is that seriously all you got from that?" I guess it's about the small things for her.

"Okay, so he's not from 2017. Where is he from then?"

"2037"

"Dude, that's sick." I shot her a glare.

"Sorry."

"His mom is April Sekins, but he doesn't know about his uncle. His mother never told him that he had even existed."

"So he doesn't know anything. But nothing in the art room should have caused that reaction. As far as I know, it's only paintings." I grab the diary from my backpack where I had put it the night before.

"If I tell you about this, you can't tell anybody. Nothing."

"Okay. I promise." She replied.

"This is June Sekin's diary."

"No way." She seemed intrigued yet scared.

"I read it. June found it in the cottage. I think he only read the beginning, though. April was ignoring June in the beginning, that was all. He wrote about how he was sad and confused at first. Then it started to get worse. One day, April even told him to die."

"Wait. You don't think..."

"Yes. The day June read the diary, he was upset. I guess his mother wasn't who he thought she was. I don't think he ever put together what had happened. He- he asked where his uncle was. He said he had questions to ask."

"Oh god, I'm going to vomit. How could you not say anything?"

"At the time, I hadn't read the diary yet. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. June never knew his uncle existed, so why would it matter to him if he was dead?" I paused. "I didn't know that his mother was the reason he killed himself."

"Wait, wait, wait. We can't jump to that conclusion. We don't know anything yet." She was right. That's a serious accusation to put on someone.

"Okay, but what do we do? I can try to talk to him, but I'm sure he won't want to. You know what? Let's meet at lunch tomorrow in the gym. I will try to bring him along; at least I could introduce you. You've already gotten yourself into this."

"Okay, that sounds like a plan. I have to get going but try to talk to him. At least comfort him. That's what he needs right now." We waved goodbye to each other and I went inside. My mom was waiting.

"I took him upstairs to sleep. What happened? I leave you two alone then someone gets hurt." At this point, I couldn't tell her the truth. If I did, there was no saying what would happen.

"I was chasing him up the steps, and then he fell. Smacked his head real good off the ground-" I tried to joke, but she wasn't laughing.

"This is serious, so stop laughing. It could have been worse, you know it too. Here." She handed me some food, "Go check on him and bring him something to eat. You eat as well, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

When I got to his room, June was sitting looking out the window. He turned to me.

"Hey."

"Hey. My mom got some food for you, so eat up."

"Not hungry."

"I'm still putting it on your bed whether you want it or not. How are you doing? Head hurt?"

"I can't really tell. Everything hurts."

"Need medicine?"

"No" There was a moment of silence until June spoke again.

"You don't have anything to ask me?"

"Um, I don't think you should be answering questions right now. Besides, it's not my business." June turned his body to look at me. He just stared as I saw him start to cry.

"I'm okay, so just ask. Just ask, or maybe you could tell me the truth this time. Just ask because I don't know what to do." I felt shame at that moment. Maybe if I had told him the truth, this wouldn't have happened. If I had given him the diary, then he wouldn't have found out like that.

"I'm sorry." I reached into my bag and once again pulled out the diary.

"I read it. I was going to give it to you tonight, I promised you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"It's not your fault. I should have realized this when I first read the beginning. I didn't want to believe my mom was like that. Especially to her own brother."

"What exactly did you see in there?" His eyes shook as i asked.

"Paintings. Lots of them. I-"

He stopped. "There was a box with a smaller canvas in it. At first, it was a forest scene and then a painting of the cottage, then- then there was one of a boy. He was in a dark room, there were faces and writing on the wall and-"

I went to his bed and sat, wrapping a blanket around him.

"It's okay. You're okay."

"The next one was another room. There- there was a- a stool and-"

He trailed off. "There was a noose. My uncle had made it. I realized the reason he probably made those was because of my mom. I don't want to believe it. I really don't want to. I-" The heavy breathing started again. "I could feel the pain in those paintings. I can't imagine how it was for him. I wouldn't have been able to live. But everything turned out alright. I saw that there were a lot of awards. He was always there when they won the championship. I'm guessing he graduated the year they lost in the first round. He must have been a star player." I think he was in denial, not wanting to see the truth, but then again, he hadn't read the diary. He didn't know the severity yet, so I decided to stay quiet.

I hugged him tightly. "You should sleep." Nodding, he laid down exhausted.