The library.
Usually that's a great place to look for books, any subject, right? At least, I think so. I'm not a reading person, so I wouldn't know. I head upstairs, and notice a room.
"Pennsylvania Room". I enter.
The light turns on, and I notice what is hundreds, if not thousands, of binders, stored in this room. I look around, knowing no one else is around, and examine the table in the middle of this small space. One of the binders: "Burns Hill Cem. A-L".
Then I turn around.
A whole library of family records. Well, not every family record here, but mainly just those who bothered to donate theirs. I pick one up, one that I'm familiar with: Royer. I open the book, and instantly understand jack shit. Then I realized it was a family tax record and not a family record.
I'm dumb.
I head out and towards the non-fiction, hoping to find something, possibly like "How to Deal With the Fact You Have Learning Disorders". I look around the medical section, hoping to find something, and I thought I did.
"How to Prevent Autism in Kids"
I didn't. I surely didn't.
Most of the books in there were like that, along with diet and yoga books, and two really large medical dictionaries. There were a few more books here and there- but not what I was looking for. I look up, on the highest shelf I can't reach, and I see it. "Overcoming Dyslexia". Fuck you God for making me short and unable to read. I try to grab the book, and I don't fail horribly.
I open to the first page and it's just a giant paragraph. I can't read this.
I put the book back, and head back downstairs.
I think my mom forgot about me here.
YOU ARE READING
day to day drabbles - エミリアちゃんの日記
Non-Fictionwritings of a kid who doesn't really know how to write. or read, for that matter.
