January 9th by Jason Tru, Jason Tru (best ebook reader ubuntu txt) π
I've always had books given to me as presents by my aunt, but never really read them until I was a bit older. The books turned out to be amazing, and what I never expected. The writers, literally made these books to make you connect with it. It's like a drug, and so, I wanted this drug. I never knew how amazing these things were. I used to write a lot, this isn't my first book, but, I've never looked at books in this way before. It's literally, giving me the ability to produce my own film, and have my own characters and my own set and have everything the way that I want it.
I wanted to morph things and make them into my mental figure. I wanted to create something that's not been known before. I wanted to make that drug.
It's like, a movie, for example. Sometimes, you'd watch a movie, and by the end, you're so attached, you don't want it to end.
Or, better way of explaining, a series. Like, a TV series that's at its end, and the last episode is playing and they use the flashback clips; oh, those flashback clips. That's another thing. I don't know if this happens to you, but, there's moments at the end of the series, where they play little clips of the show, and to parts you don't even remember, you're all crying like a ratchet mess, '' Oh my God, I remember that! '', but, in reality, you have no idea when that episode played.
I guess, ultimately, I wanted this book to be like that. I wanted people to break down for a part two, but know in their hearts and minds, that, there's nothing left to be told. I wanted to create that urge, I wanted that crave for the drug.
And, so, the book generally came together. The idea really lingered for a while, about me and my friend, just dreaming in our little minds about finding the perfect person, and my perfect moment that I wanted to happen that would never be forgotten, would be a moment in the forest or by a lake, where we would runaway to in their car or truck and literally lay under the sun, near the lake, and just be in each other's arms and silently coexist, without having to talk, for our presence spoke for us.
Building off of that, I went deeper into creating someone else; someone else that's sick, but moves into a town with another person, that they both fall in love with each other, but, faces abusive parents, religion, separation, forced marriage, near-death-experiences, and a lot more.
I wanted to really lash on most prominent aspects of the present world and be sure that they're heard, as opposed to writing another love triangle story or fan-fiction.
But, generally, that's basically how it all summed.
The book's partly comical, but shows its intended brilliance.
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He started grabbing his books once more, in his hand, and got up, beginning to walk to the door. '' Hey, where are you going, hen? '', '' What? Oh, I was just leaving. '', '' No, you stay there. Wait until real people leave. '', Blake blurted in an abhorrent manner, before pushing August by his chest. Blake stared at August in a disgustful way, before fixing his jacket, and leaving. August just sat there for a moment after Blake's leave, as he dug in his bag, trying to find a pill for his headache. Failing to find any, he realised that he'd probably left them at home. His eyes turned red. August quickly dropped his books in a panic, as he slammed his bag on the table, turning it upside down, looking in all directions to locate his medication. With a sigh of relief, he found one. August didn't realise that he had no water to drink it, though, until about a minute after he finished packing his stuff back in the bag. '' Oh God... '', he whimpered, '' Really? '', he'd question, no one in particular. August had no choice but to place the large pill in his mouth and swallow it dry. Not to long during his attempt, he choked, spitting it out in his hand. With his eyes, beginning to water from the taste of the pill, starting to dissolve on his tongue, and choking, he plopped his head backward, as he took his finger and forcibly shoved the pill down his throat. His face grew a few beads of sweat from the act and panic, but he was finally alright, once the pill was down and secure.
'' Why are you still in class? '', '' Oh, I was just... '', '' Who are you? '', '' I'm August. I was just leaving, sir. '', '' But, why are you still here? '', '' I was just... '', '' Look, school's over and you need to leave. '', '' But, I was just about to... '', '' I said, leave. '', '' Okay, okay. '', August replied, confusingly to Mr. Greg. Mr. Greg stared at August in an odd way as August awkwardly left the room. He just snorted at August, before closing the classroom's door and walking in the opposite direction of August, to the Staff Room.
August's bag slipped off his shoulder, and fell to his forearm. He flicked it up, back, quickly with his left hand, before walking out of the hallway, having the 3PM sunlight, hit his face. He easily dipped his head downward, letting his hair fall over his left eye, to his nose, blocking some of the sun. As August looked around at the quick-emptying parking lot and people leaving, he walked over to a nearby, shady tree and leaned against it, while taking out his wallet, finding some money for cab-fare to get back home. He gently placed his books on the grass as he counted the money. '' One, two, three, four, five, six, eight, nine... '', he'd stop himself, '' Wait, no. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, ten, eleven, '' he'd stop again, in frustration. '' Ugh, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. '', August ended, with a sigh of relief. He'd scratch his head while he mumbles to himself about his dyslexic mind. He'd always have problems with reading and interpreting letters, numbers and counting objects because of his dyslexia, but, in his mind, he doesn't have it. He ignores the existence of it, nor does he want to believe that he does. To him, he's just stupid and needed to work harder, more than he is already.
He swiftly removed his glasses, as to where they laid on his head, left a wet print of sweat. Under the tree, a gentle wind started flowing, as the clouds eased over eachother, and over the vision of the sun. August rested his head back on the tree, looking up into the cool, green leaves as he watched them sway through the motion of wind. With the wind blowing over the beads of sweat on his forehead, his headache slowly started to ease, as the temperature gradually decreased. August sedately lowered himself, sitting on the soft grass, while he laid against the tree. As the light dimmed, August's eyes opened. He then rubbed his hand on his, now dry forehead, and sat up, as he collected his books and bag, once more. He braced himself o n the bark of the tree, while he lifted himself up, before dusting the back of his clothes from loose grass and leaves that might have stuck to him. August hastily walked over to the pavement, seeing less people standing there, from before. He waved his thumb around, trying to flag a taxicab, only to realise how much the cars ignored him. August stood there for a good while, maybe an hour, before finally getting one. The car was old and filled with dents and scratches. At this point, August had no say in if or not he'd be judgmental to the person's car.
As he lowered his head, facing the car, he gave his address, and asked if the driver would be going that way. The driver, an old man, probably in his late fifties, giggled at the question, as he looked around at the area, seeing that August was alone, without anyone being with him. He nodded his head in approval with a warm smile, as he pat the front seat of his car, having it blow up a small amount of dust. August then opened the door, having it creak loudly, before slamming back. '' Ah, just pull it harder. It's an old door, that happens at times. '', the old man would mention in a jolly voice. '' Haha, alright. '', August replied, as he pulled it harder, attempting to go in. The door quickly close back, once more, as it hooked August's bag, pulling him against it. The old man laughed lightheartedly, as he leaned over, unhooking the bag, and opened the door himself. '' Get in quickly, boy '', he'd command in a husky voice. August smiled a bit before lowering his head, and sitting in the taxicab.
With a puff of grey smoke, the old man flicked his gear, starting the taxicab on its way. '' So, who are you? I don't see you here often. Never saw you before, to be frank. '', The old guy would attempt to converse with August. '' Oh, I just moved here. And, I'm August '', August would reply. '' Oh? From where? You look quite different. I don't see much people like you around these neck of the woods. '', the old guy would state, as he flicked his cigarette out the window. '' What do you mean? '', August questioned, senselessly, for he knew exactly what the old-man meant. '' Haha, nothing. '', '' Nothing? '', '' It's nothing. Haha, just be careful, alright? '', the old man tried to say in the calmest way possible. '' Okay. '', August replied, lightly, as they both knew the meaning, but willingly avoided the topic. A solid five minutes past of awkward tension and silence, before August popped up with a question to break it. '' So, what's your name? '', August asked, breaking said silence, nearly scaring the old guy. '' Oh, I'm Mr. Hemreck. But, you can call me Denis for short. '', '' Denis? '', Yes, Denis. I hate when people call me Mr. Hemreck. It makes me feel old. '', Denis hissed, as they both burst into laughter. '' Oh, really now? '', '' Yes. I may be old, but you don't have to know it. Haha '', '' I guess not. '', '' Heck, I'm not even old. I can be like, twenty-five. You don't know. '', '' Oh, I'm pretty sure that you're not twenty-five...'' August would say in a funny manner. '' Who says? Haha. Hey, lemme' tell you. You're only as old as you feel. I feel like I'm young still. Time isn't going to stop me. '', Denis laughed, resting his right arm on his tummy.
'' Oh, right around here. '', '' Around? '', '' Yeah, I'm not sure. '', '' You're not? When did you move in? '', '' Like, last night. Haha. '', '' Oh lord. You better learn your address young man, before you walk into the wrong house. '', they'd laugh once more. Denis stopped in a distance, not to a particular house, seeing that August's still confused. '' It's that one. I'm sure of it. '', August demanded. '' Sure, you're sure... '', Denis played in an iffy tone. '' Just stop here and you go find your house. Write on the door next time so you know. '', he'd joke. '' Alright, Mr. Denis. '', '' Ah-ah. No misters. '', '' Haha, alright then, ' Denis ' '', August would tease with air quotes. '' How much is it? '', August questioned as he took his wallet out, holding the ten dollars, counting them once more. Denis looked at August's hand with the ten dollars, seeing him count it, and looked back at August. '' Aye, no charge. '', '' No? '', '' Nah', it's fine. I'll give you this time free because you forgot your damn house. Haha. '', '' Aw, thanks. '', August replied in relief, knowing that he didn't have to count the money again, and give the wrong amount. '' Alright now, bye, August. '', '' Bye Mr. Denis '', '' Hey! '', Denis screamed in a playful manner as August ran to his home. Denis looked down and smiled for a bit, before starting the engine again, and taking off.
'' Mum, I'm home! '', August yells in excitement. '' Stop talking like that! '', Kathy, replied in a disgusting tone, killing August's joy. He ignores it anyway, running up the stairs, tripping again. '' Not even going to comment. '', she'd remark as August giggled lightly to the harsh sense of humor and trotted up the stairs once more.
Shoving his old, creaky door open, August ran in, full speed, tossing his bag on the floor as he dove into his bed, hitting his hands the pillow as he screamed into it out of excitement. August stayed there for a while, laying on the pillow, staring at the ceiling as he thought of his new friend, Denis. August didn't care much for his age or anything, but, more so to the fact that someone laughed with him. '' August, dinner's ready. '', Kathy assured, August. '' August? '', '' Hmm? Oh, I'm here. '', August blurted out with a smile, as he tries to break free of his cloud of happiness, and sink down into reality. '' Dinner's ready. '', she repeated. '' Oh, alright. Is dad coming home tonight? '', '' I don't think so. '', '' Oh. '', he'd respond in a softer, lower tone. '' He has more than one shifts. He'll be home soon. '', '' Alright
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