The Journal: The First Edition

Chapter 6

Johnathon came to visit me later that day. Just like we'd discussed earlier, he did end up bringing me a few things. The trash can I asked for, some vocabulary books... I had finished only one novella when he came back with more for my shelf. A single book was added to my finished shelf, and several others filled my unread shelf. I knew the shelf would be full eventually if I didn't continue reading, but I was getting bored of it.

I stared at the spines of the unread books, reading the titles and twirling my white hair around my claw-like fingers. I wasn't sure if I was trying to burn the titles into my memory or decide on one to read. All that I could do in this room was read, read, read... it was grating.

Johnathon had left when he brought me the things I wanted. There wasn't much to talk about, and he was busy with more important guard things. He couldn't deal with me all the time, and that was something I had come to accept. I recalled Dexter's words from the conversation we had at the dessert shop, about how I shouldn't cling to other people so much and try to be an individual.

I hadn't asked for the advice, but I had come to find that it was something I needed desperately. I thought back to the fearful demeanor I must've given off when we were walking around the town. The way I latched onto him when faced with new people must've made me look pathetic. It must've seemed like I was afraid of my own shadow.

I gazed down at the silhouette of my figure on the floor, cast by the faint light in the ceiling. The light flickered, as though the flame inside was beginning to die out. I had never seen the light die before. I didn't think it would, but now the thought was locked within my mind. I wasn't particularly keen on keeping it there, so I forced myself to build a wall within my mind and block the thought off.

I raised a hand, tilting back a book from the shelf and gazing at the title on the front cover. It seemed to be a book on biology. It was one of my least favourite topics, but I thought at the time it would be something useful for me to know. I gave in to my boredom and slid the book out from between a set of other related books.

I slid the books together to make sure that the space the book had left was filled before I retreated to my favourite corner. I settled myself on the ground, coiling my tail on the ground to use it as a sort of chair. I had put the rest of the books in my stack on the shelves while I was waiting for Johnathon, so I couldn't use them as a chair anymore. I had to do it at some point; I guess I just didn't feel lazy today.

Even as I settle down to read this book, I feel restless. My hoof clicks on the ground repeatedly as my leg bounces, and every so often I circle the tips of my fingers on the book cover. Sometimes I have to go back and reread sentences because my mind wanders or blanks out. Taking in the information is hard right now and I'm not sure what to do to fix it, but I'm getting frustrated.

Eventually I let out a groan of annoyance and shut the book, sliding it across the floor to the bookshelves. I didn't even finish the book, but I would have to reread it anyways if I wanted to understand anything that was being said. I bring my legs up onto my tail and press my knees against my chest, clutching them with my arms. I allow my second pair of arms to reform and rest on either side of me, sliding back and forth on my tail.

I end up burying my face in my arms at some point and shutting my eyes. I'm not sleeping, but I'm not awake. I don't know where or when I am right now. Existing just feels... difficult. I hate it.

I don't know what's up with me right now, but I don't want to try reading another book to figure it out. I just need something to do and somewhere to go. But, unfortunately for me, I can't go outside. I'm pretty sure that they keep the door to this room locked, which means my only way of getting out is to ask Johnathon to take me outside. But I can't talk to him when he doesn't show up.