Well, looks like everything is starting to fall into place. At least for me, that is.
Do you remember when I had to recite the story about the king whose son had died and how the entire kingdom mourned the boy's death? It turned out that that story was not an omen of my death, but the omen of Uncle Zach's death. Now I wish I had paid closer attention to the story instead of worrying about my own fate.
It's no use crying over that spilled milk.
So, it's Sunday again and time for me to go over what I had done today. When I woke up this morning, I was sure that things would go back to normal. But I guess I was asking for too much, seeing as dad and several of his cousins had to go to the hospital to clean out Uncle Zach's things. (That happened while the rest of the family was in church; I won't repeat how annoyed I was when everyone came to me, telling me how sorry they were to hear about my uncle's death. They didn't know him, and neither did I. But I had to humor them, which was humiliating in itself.)
OK, after we all got home from church, I saw dad sitting in his office surrounded by boxes of stuff belonging to Uncle Zach. I chanced to peek inside one of those boxes, only to discover that the boxes contained notebooks full of stories, pictures, and poems. It seemed that Uncle Zach lived in a world of his own, a world that no one else was allowed to enter.
I mean, what a waste of a life.
Or was it?
Right now, dad's staring at one of the notebooks, muttering to himself. He should have known that while his brother lived in his own world, he saw things that never were and wondered "why not". Why not create stories where certain events in human history never took place? Why have an imagination and not be allowed to use it?
Something has to give.
Anyway, as dad's going over Uncle Zach's stuff, I went to my room, hoping to destress and process the events that took place after my 13th birthday. And what happened so far? Here's a list of everything that happened after my birthday:
1. I turned 13 years old.
2. I meet Claire Evans and expose the people keeping her prisoner.
3. I deal with Adrian and Dorian Johansson.
4. Barbara beats up Milton.
5. I have my bar mitzvah.
6. I woke up with a 105-degree fever, an upset stomach, and a migraine. (Plus, I missed two days of school, which completely destroyed my perfect attendance record.)
7. At the same time, I had a fight with Jem about me being a boy (for the umpteenth time).
8. Barbara yells at me because I chose to be friends with Milton and not her. (I already told you that she likes to abuse people, didn't I?)
9. I also scolded Jem for destroying my room. (But that's already a given.)
10. I found out that Milton's parents are taking him out of Lochland Middle School.
Well, looking over the last 20 days of my 13th year, I could safely say that while me growing up should have been an exciting time, in reality, growing up is anything but exciting. Especially when you're starting to lose everything that once meant something to you. First, I lost my friend Milton Holt, but I gained a new friend in Claire Evans. Plus, I had dealt with the twins Adrian and Dorian Johanssen, who were causing trouble for everyone due to their neglectful family. (I did tell you their parents had hired a nanny so they could lavish all their attention on the twins' younger sister, right?)
With those accomplishments, you'd think I would be happy with what I've done. But I'm not happy, not since I helped destroy several people and ruined a lifelong friendship. (Do you remember when I told you that Barbara beat up Milton because Natasha Pitts was one of her friends? She was those who had isolated Claire from the rest of the school.) And that was all because I had to run afoul of the twins.
Speaking of which, they called me up on the phone; here's how that conversation went:
Jed: Why are you calling me?
Adrian: Because we're bored. Plus, Claire told our parents to send the nanny away. Now we don't have anyone to talk to.
Jed: You still have your parents.
Dorian: Don't fool yourself, Jed. We don't have any parents.
Jed: Yes you do. You have a mom and a dad, am I right?
Adrian: Nope. We don't have a mom and dad, not since Alicia Vasconcelos was forced to find another family to work for, preferably with younger children. I mean, children under the age of ten years. Not 14-year-old boys. This isn't fair.
Jed: Well, can't you talk to your parents and tell them how you feel?
Adrian: You don't talk to our parents, not unless it's about business or Lulu.
Dorian: But never about us. It's not like our parents cared about us or anything like that.
Adrian: You can say that we're orphans.
Jed: Nope. You boys are not orphans. You have a mom and a dad, and it's time for you to learn that.
Dorian: You know, Jed, I wish I could believe you, but I can't. Not when mom and dad hired her to keep us away from Lulu.
Jed: And why would they do that?
Adrian: Well, the answer's...kind of...complicated.
Jed: Complicated how? Like you're not really Natasha or Antonio's children and your real parents dumped you on their doorstep because they were too disabled to keep you?
Adrian: Now that's a load of hooey.
Dorian: Yeah. Where do you get such crap like that?
Jed: Because I'm sure someone at the hospital must have switched Jem's twin sister with me when we were babies.
Well, I could go on with this conversation, but Jem overheard me on the phone; she said, "I know you're not talking on the phone, Jedidiah Hamilton. Not when I can't be on the phone."
I was about to respond when mom overhears. She said, "Don’t even think of trying to stop Jed from being on the phone; you know you're on restriction, young lady!"
"But this is unfair, mom!" Jem yelled. "How can Jed be on the phone and I can't?"
"Because Jed didn't mess up your room," said dad as he prepared dinner, which was fish casserole. (Gross!) "So don't you dare try to make him suffer because you're on punishment."
Well, before Jem could launch yet another rant at me, Kieran comes into the room. He's steaming mad because Jem didn't read him his bedtime story like she was supposed to. Before anyone could stop him, he pounced on her and knocked her over, calling her all kinds of bad names such as "rotten fudge twig" and "useless goof nugget". Well, if I had a dollar for every time I called her a "jerk-smacking loser", I'd be richer than Bill Gates. Maybe I should start saying something mean to her instead of always trying to hold it in like I always do.
So I said, "Tell me this, Jem. How's that making me a girl thing working out for you, eh?"
Well, she responded by pushing Kieran off her and punching me in the face. Hard. I mean, so hard that I fell and smacked my face into the wall where that big framed picture of an old castle was. (I'm surprised that old thing didn't break, as it was made of carved marble.) Mom and dad didn't hear me insulting her, but they as sure as heck saw her slapping me. (Wait, I did say punch, right?)
To make a long story short, Kieran and Jem were sent to bed without supper or dessert (which was lemon cake). But when I saw the ugly bruise left on my face after Jem punched me, I ended up losing my appetite and went to bed without eating anything.
Nice going, Jed. You just had to be a Milton, didn't you?
Shoot. Looks like Jem's no better than Barbara in terms of how she interacts with me, but at least she doesn't treat me the way Barbara treats Milton.
Or am I lying to myself?
OK, so once again, it's Sunday night, which means "Away in England" is on TV. This means I had to deal with seeing Lydia, Harry, and Hermione attempt to solve yet another mystery while dealing with a crisis at Hogwarts. Well, I don't like how they portray many of the characters in the show as complete jerks, but nobody was allowed to touch the "Golden Trio" as Harry, Hermione, and Lydia are called. Plus, Ron Weasley is in the show, but he's portrayed as a huge buffoon who's so fricking stupid, I had to wonder why J.K. Rowling had to write about him in the first place. (And don’t get me started on his family, which is as messed up as he is. The less we talk about the Weasley family, the better.)
Anyway, I'm getting too old to be pushed around by other people, yet I lack the capacity to stand up for myself. I needed to learn to do it immediately, as the halls of Lochland High School will not show any mercy to those who aren't tough.
Well, screw those people who tell you to be yourself. That's not going to get you any respect, only a beating from the school bully. I don't have time for that.
Yet, I do have time to throw myself down on my bed and sigh loudly, as I'm feeling my age. I know that it's time for me to start everything over. But am I willing to do it at the cost that I can't afford?
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