A/N: Kawaii Petalchan here again! I want to say thanks to Saint H for the kind review, and so, here's chapter two. Oh, and about the angsty Joey, that's to provide a contrast to the later chapters. Sorry about it being a bit slow towards the beginning. It's going to change in a while. But that's all I'm gonna say, or risk telling the whole plot. So, for all of ya'll, here's chapter 2! Yay!
Disclaimer: I don't own Jericho, but I wish I did. Etc, etc. Get reading! Now! I command you!
Chapter Two
Mom and Dad have never been very 'religious' so I was kinda surprised to find that Grandma is a very regular church-goer. I guess Mom doesn't go as a kind of rebellion. Grandma was kinda mad that mom didn't tell me anything about church. Grandma has been taking me to her church. I sit in on the Sunday school classes, but frankly I don't get it. Who are all these people that they are talking about? I just don't understand how people who lived over two thousand years ago can be important to our lives today. And who is this 'Jesus' that they talk about? Grandma showed me the sign-language word, but I don't understand it. You touch the index finger of one hand to the palm of the other, and do the same with the other hand. What's that all about?
Today they were talking about this 'Jesus' healing a cripple's legs with just a word. I find that a bit hard to believe. How could he possibly be able to do that? No medical equipment, nothing, just 'Get up and walk,' and the guy was healed. But at the same time, I wonder. If this 'Jesus' were real, and could do something so amazing, could he possibly heal someone who was mute like me? . . . I doubt it. Oh well.
I've been playing the guitar more and more lately. I didn't play much before Mom and Dad got divorced, mainly because it just was slightly frowned on by Grant and Dad. I think that Mom understands me more, maybe because Grandma loves music and art. Mom grew up in this house, so she understands the 'aesthetic' people.
That 'power' that I mentioned earlier, it's been getting a bit stronger. I try not to look at anyone's eyes. I know that it makes people think that I'm not listening, but I really am. It's just I can't look without possibly taking over someone's body. I don't want that. It never lasts long, but it's disorienting. I don't like it. I've heard of 'Super Heros' but this is ridiculous.
Mom's been getting more and more nervous about Dad. She's been giving me self-defense lessons. She says that I need to be able to protect myself in case Dad decides to do something rash. I don't like it. I learn, I just don't really care about fighting. If I have to protect myself, I'm sure I can, but I don't like it at all. I wish I could just live in a normal household. You know. A mom, dad, brother, all of which love me and each other.
Sometimes, I close my eyes and picture things as they used to be: Mom and Dad smiling and laughing, Grant not being such a jerk, I miss the way it was. Not the way it was towards the end, with Mom and Dad fighting and shouting all the time. The words were so sharp, they still stick in my mind, like a barrage of knives. Every time I think of those last months, I feel like crying. And that makes me think of why they divorced, and my throat, and I get angry. Angry with Dad for not preventing it, and at myself for not being able to talk. It makes me feel as if something is gone. I hate not being able to sing or laugh or get anyone's attention without tapping them.
I've been having dreams lately. Nightmares. It's like something is chasing me. Somehow I know that if this . . . thing, catches me, my life's going to change. For bad or worse I can't tell, but I guess I don't want it to change, and I run. I just run, even though I don't know where I'm going. It kinda scares me. Maybe it means something. Grandma says that dreams often mean something. I'd ask her what it means, but I'm not sure. Maybe I'll ask her later. I have this dream a lot. Not every night, but sometimes two nights in a row, and then not again for a night or two, and then it starts up again. Maybe it's Daddy chasing me. If it is, I know why I run. But maybe it's not.
Oh, I feel so confused. I just want answers. I have all these questions nowadays, and I never get answers. To tell the truth, I'm not sure where to turn. I'm just lost. So alone. Why does it have to be that way? Why can't I get an answer? It's baffling. Who is that in my dream? And why can't I see his face? I'm sure that it's a he, somehow I just know. When I'm dreaming, I feel as if I know who it is, but when I wake up, I don't know. Why does he torment me? I just want to know who it is.
Lost
Confused.
That's how I feel.
Who is this man,
The one Grandma prays to at every meal?
What does he have to do with me?
Why do I feel that there's more than what I see?
Who is the man who chases me in my dreams?
Is he really more than he seems?
Who is he really?
I feel I want to know,
But I don't want that feeling to show.
I'm so lost. I don't know what to say.
Can someone please show me the way?
J.W.W.
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So, is it ok? Please review, I need your input. Please. Please. Please. Ok, I'm gonna stop pleading now. But really, I do need your input. It keeps me going. BTW, the title of this story comes from the KJ-52 cd Behind the Musik: A boy named Jonah, and I have kinda gotten a lot of inspiration for this story from KJ (esp. the songs 'Don't go,' 'Behind the Musik' and 'Are you Real?'). Ok, that's all for now. See ya!
