Chapter Six

Depressed

"Others that are excluded, have individual reasons as to why they were shunned a pond. They were damned by the ones they wish acceptance from the most. Those who are shamed by sin, those who are shamed by birth, those who are shamed by their past, present, and future. People who sin, say this; that they had to, to survive. People who sin say this, it's to late now to stop. The shadow called sin dogs them steadily from behind, silently without a word. Remorse and agony are repeated only end up at despair at the end. But the sinners don't know, that if they only turned around there's a light there which keeps shinning on them ever so lonely, a light that will never fade..." Keka quickly cleared her voice with a cough and carefully turned the page.

"That day, that time, 15 years ago, we were born, weren't we? There was nothing but peaceful days and mother was always close behind us. But our disagreeing thoughts changed each of our ways of life, didn't they? I don't regret it. I will vow once again not to kill, not to betray, but to find happiness. To talk about my dreams, because the ticket to the future is always blank.

The fragment of memory lost in the gap between life and death, is it something which will point the way to spiritual awareness? The silver metallic gun crushes. In my heart, metamorphosis, my past, my brother, my mother. The moment I was reunited with everything I ever protected. The light and the intoxicating sound of the trigger took them all away from me. This is the beginning of my past. This is the end of my journey." She continued reading as she followed each word with her stiff finger. The words from the book had shown her a different way to express her love for novels. Her eyes read each line with intensity stronger than any she had ever known. To her the novel she read was the real world, and the home she was in was a fictional lie sent to distract her from her real purpose in life. As she finished each page in under a minute she felt herself being drawn into the literature. Unfortunately the bond could easily be interrupted.

"Keka. What are you doing?" Ken walked in with a blunt expression. Keka quickly startled by the sudden intrusion of the young writer. He smiled slightly. "So what do you think? That is if you can even comprehend what I was saying."

"Very funny! I understand perfectly!" Keka yelled, offensively holding up her fist to his face. She then hesitated and reframed from hitting him. "I understand. Though some it is confusing to me, I could make out that the narrator and his brother had lived happily with their family. But that was it, for some reason him and their family was shun by the other people and depended on each other. That is until everyone else was murdered except the speaker. And he understands the person who killed them, like he knows that person's personal logic and understanding." She smiled painfully. "I was wondering some things as I read. Like why did that person feel obligated to kill his family, what had the family done that was so horrible? Did they sin or kill? And...was this written from simple experience with the situation or cleverly developed from inner feelings and thoughts and imagination?"

He smiled, "you tell me. Do I seem that troubled to you?" He laughed lower in his throat which sounded more like a 'humph' to Keka. "When it is published, will you buy it?"

"Why? Can't I just read the whole manuscript here?" She questioned holding up the large collection of papers, kept together by staples and the folder.

"No! How am I suppose to make a living if you are being stingy and not buying it like everyone else?" He contradicted her reasoning.

"A living? You're only a kid, why would you need to make a living?" Keka pouted, crossing her arms with the story still in her hand.

"One, I'm not a kid. That's only to refer to a young goat, which I am not. Second, I'm supporting a family of two all by myself. Third, this is an easier job than working at some stupid part-time restaurant that takes up most of your time, which I don't have extra to spare. I still have school, after all I'm only sixteen."

"Really? Well my assumption from when I first meant you was right. You are only a year older than me." She teased.

She continued reading as she followed each word with her stiff finger. The words from the book had shown her a different way to express her love for novels. Her eyes read each line with intensity stronger than any she had ever known. To her the novel she read was the real world, and the home she was in was a fictional lie sent to distract her from her real purpose in life. As she finished each page in under a minute she felt herself being drawn into the literature. Unfortunately the bond could easily be interrupted.

"Oh, really? How often do you make hypothesis's on my personality or me in general?" Due to her ever growing questions for him, he felt it was his turn to question her.

"Well..." She took time out to carefully look over the situation. "Just as I was reading this I was thinking you were very depressed and troubled. Like you really wanted someone to understand you, but you were always given false hope. As result, you tried to understand everyone else around you, instead of the other way around. I feel you are missing your words from the story and going by what everyone can relate to. But it destroys the whole purpose of writing." She smiled and point at his chest, toward his heart. "I think it's all about coming up with a way to express your personal feelings and ideas. So that people can get to know the real you. Right now you are hiding behind the logic of those who you know everyone else will understand."

"You are really something, Keka." A tortured smiled appeared once again and he let on the appearance that what she had said had hit him below the belt. "It's surprising how such in-depth words can come from an amateur writer. But I know there's greatness inside of you." In an awkward need to show adoration, Ken patted her on the back.