Because my computer has conked out and I am with my friends who also write this type of thing we came up with ideas for crack fics and this is part of that set, in which OutspokenSilence is the writer of the Alex side of thingd. This is a basic diary fic written by Josh Shepherd before the events of Homecoming and I hope someone out there finds my drivel funny. Anything from this point on by the way will be in character as Josh Shepherd as this is a sort of roleplay exercise too. :)


Back to basics, new year, new diary. In other words Mum got me a new notebook for Christmas and it happens to have a lock and key function, seems standard enough. Ooh I feel like a young Bridget Jones, except not a woman or fat, I think Alex got a book too one of those 'for dummies' ones that you see everywhere for everything and can't help but think 'Man, I hope someone kills whoever writes those' then pause and consider that it's probably a company behind it who take in lots of writers' works, after that the contemplation of actually wishing someone dead sets in and there's that horrible sense of guilt that bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You look back at the book and sigh, shake your head and realise you' have come back to the conclusion that someone really needs cancer. Speaking of cancer wasn't that 'for dummies' about suicides? I reckon Mum's implying something, I'll play it cool though I'm not a spiteful kid.

Anyway having started making use of this I imagine Alex is checking out his own which I'll ask about later though that later could be a while. I don't think Alex was a very fast writer and I fear the evenings won't be enough but so long as he is quiet and out of our folk's hair there shouldn't be any drama. I would have thought he had got it by now what with all the cursing and shoving he receives on a daily basis as well as the undertone of indifference in my voice when I do my best to play the younger brother routine, someone needs to give him purpose but at the end of the day the bottom line was always no one actually loves him and the sooner he realises is the sooner we can pack up his things, give him a little doggy bag of food and send him on his merry way. By merry way I mean kill him dead.

Don't get me wrong I do like him to the extent that he plays with me and buys me things which can't really be held against me considering I am nine years old and my interests consist of sport at school, friends, games and junk food though the fact that I am aware of this should prove that I have some understanding of the more mature notions of emotion and try and make some sense out of the feelings I have for Alex as a brother but it seems I can only translate them to 'he will be dead soon and I'll get the top bunk for once'. He's the older, heavier brother, if the bed breaks then it's going to be a lot harder on my bones than would be vice versa, whether it's body or muscle weight I am sick of debating about (he's fat; why he needs false reassurance from a little brother is still unknown to me) but as soon as he is a soldier I'm sure it'll be fixed and if he returns alive I'll have long made my point clear. I've already decided where the Slipknot poster is going.

Mum's been particularly good to me this year, I got what I wanted from my list as well as the majority of what Alex asked for and though I am not stupid enough to use the chinese daggers just yet I have already put in an order on an online auctioned site for a bedside drawer in which to keep it along with that magazine I found under Alex's pillow, seriously are they really that big? Are they really? Scary stuff. If any parent should ask what said daggers are doing in such easy posession of me I can scapegoat Alex and challenge his knowledge of unsafe places in the presence of an impressionable child or go with the sexual assualt claims, again a scapegoat on Alex. Which reminds me I really need to actually ask one of the older kids what such would consist of because I know there will be pushings of details from the adults if- no, when the claim comes to practice and I want to be thorough as possible. Besides if I don't bust him now I know he's actually going to, look at his fucking eyes. (I hope Mum isn't reading...)

I feel uncomfortable talking about such things so I shall try and steer to a slope of ending on this diary entry, to be honest I'm not entirely aware of what I am supposed to write in such a device but it seems to be good for plotting and so long as Alex does not get his hands on it I doubt anyone is about to stop me in doing so, nor about me simply pointing our his flaws in the most stark way possible and with some glimmer of hope that he will one day realise them and beg for his life to end, everyone is sick of looking at him, and hearing him and...looking at him. I can see why he likes to pretend to make radio shows with me, if he did have a claim to fame that would have to be it because when you have teeth like that you don't have much option to. This also brings me to the question why does he enjoy playing with me so much when the age gap provides us with such different aspects of interest to be targetting? I don't imagine his mental age is too impressive though and if it keeps him out of Mum and Dad's way and gives me something to do in the brief time we'll have together there will be no harm in this. Still, someone his age playing like so with someone like me is pretty worrying for him and outsiders. I think that's why Elle started running past our window on the way to school instead of calling for him, she knows he's retarded. To be honest I hope he shapes up enough for this army milarky, he's so juvenile. With this I close as that Rudolph cartoon is on TV. I love that film.

Josh.


By the way Mum if you somehow learn to work the computer and find this diary entry which I have chosen to share with the world so it may know the pain of living with Alex, Dad and yourself then he forced me to do it and I love you both very much, you understand this right? He told me it was a good idea if I was unhappy, and I am. With him.