The Leading of Paper Cranes

Chapter 10: The Final Fold

I'm somebody. I really am somebody. I'm actually somebody that can feel the elements, can touch passion, can build a paper kingdom, can send letters to myself. It's currently second semester. I made it through 1st semester somehow. Gavin is.. okay. He sustained an injury and it's partially my fault. He's currently in the hospital because of me. Truthfully I punched him. I visit him mainly because I feel guilty. Other than that, I really don't know if I'll continue to be friends with him. I guess I'll see.

The snowstorm blocked the view, but I dragged the figure and Gavin inside. Turns out the figure was Mr. Ghoar. I'm not going to prison either, apparently there was other killings that I didn't know about— in which he was behind it. The police came by when my parents were gone for a party. They discussed that his name was Roland Ghoar, he had a a grudge against people in his past, my father being one of them. They locked him up for... I honestly can't remember. Maybe 45 years, maybe 38, maybe 57. Also, his weapon was a giant iron needle, the radius of a bullet at the tip. The metal was supposed to poison the victims in case they didn't die. Being through rust poisoning, however it never happened.

I still can't cry. I've tried to cry genuine tears for months on end. Still can't do it. To be fair I still have yet to confess these feelings to the people who have restricted and zoned off my emotions. My parents always suppressed and bottled up my sadness or anger, or guilt. They always wanted me to act happy. I truly wonder how I would be able to tell them. Maybe through a song, maybe through a simple note, maybe through a book? Either way, I'm not confident enough to say.

Mika's a nice desk partner. He likes arts and crafts just like I do. It sounds childish, but I truly want to be friends with him. So far we only just smile at each other when we see each other in the hallways.

Currently I'm in the house of Jazz. My parents let me go since they thought I'd be going to Mauriel's. I'm still as narcissistic as ever. Maybe even a hypocrite. I critique my parents for not telling me of events, when I do the same.

"Roland, stop writing in your journal!" He smiles at me and knocks my journal out of my hands.

"Lemme' finish this line!" I pick up my journal and stare into his effervescent eyes. Painting a picture of purple and gold and orange.

"Okay, whatever you say. I'll bring dinner up."

I truly want to marry him. He knows this very well. He makes me feel these complex and irrational motions of dance. Being a contemporary pose, or a tap dancer, or a simple stand still. I can't explain it.

"Roland!" Jazz is screaming my name. "Someone's at the door for you."

I keep writing. I keep writing as a head down the stairs. Mauriel is at the door.

"Heya!" He starts our handshake.

"Heya!" I continue the handshake with one hand. I should be feeling happiness, but I don't, I just continue writing monotonously.

"Watcha' writing?"

" Just journaling."

"Well I have so news." He pauses as Jazz heads into the kitchen. "I called your mother and father, they'll pick you up tomorrow here, at Jazz's house."

I look up from my book shocked. "Wait. Why?! You know they won't let me take Jazz home!" I raise my tone a tad.

Jazz comes back from the kitchen with fries in one hand and cookies in the other. "You we're talking about me?"

Mauriel takes a cookie. "That's the thing, I talked with them and they should let you bring him over. They're not going to kill you for bringing a guy and being a closeted homosexual."

"Seriously?!" I take a fry.

"Seriously."

I hug Mauriel, then I hug Jazz and give him a kiss on the cheek. He almost drops the plates. "In case you're not ready."

Mauriel takes the plate of cookies. "Well, I guess I'll join you guys for a while, being your sleepover."

I stay in utter shock. I head upstairs with Mauriel and Jazz following behind. I start tearing up and start to cry. I start to cry tears of overflowing joyousness.

The whole rest of the night we stayed up playing Super Smash Bros, having not a care in the world.

Is a world ever truly at peace? I heard from Mr. Ramirez that it's never truly peace unless there is something to compare it to. That being hatred. Humans can work together, we've built castles, pyramids, weapons of war but also the laws to enact peace. Somewhere in the world, can we suppress unrest, malice, evil? If humans can destroy cities and create nuclear weapons, can't we destroy harmful concepts and create a unified world. Does there truly need to be suffering for other people to stand up taller, or is that just in the nature of humans? The nature to take advantage of one another, of things, of ourselves. It's similar with me. I cause unrest just to make myself look trustworthy for people. A true altruistic narcissist. It's like a mask that I can put on to cover another mask, which covers another, which covers another. At that point it feels like I lie to myself. Which one is truly me? Can a mask be my identity? These are some questions that will just have to go unanswered until they either disappear or answer themselves.

So... I really am a person. Experiences shape a person, good or bad. The death of Maveah, Shai and Jasline, won't be unrequited. Is that the right word? Won't be put in vain would be better. Monologues are fun to think. It's like I'm in a story of my own. Truly. People think, just like when I make these thoughts and logs. People can build their own paper kingdom, send their letters via paper cranes, and it can never be set on fire. So.. truly I believe I am a person. A person living life, realistically, somewhere in the world, the paper crane starting to spread it's wings with many colours staining their wings.