The One I Call Jack. (Eyeless Jack Story.)

Chapter 22

-Years Ago-

Mama helped Cole pick out his suit and my dress for daddy's funeral. She was silent, as was Cole. I don't really understand what's going on. All I know is that daddy went shopping-from what Jack told me. Cole's been telling me something different. Telling me that he's dead, or that he won't wake up anymore.

During the whole time at the church, Mama just cried and cried, and of course, Cole did too, well, everyone was.

I wasn't.

I was the only one that wasn't crying. The older people, way older than Mama, was crying, Cole and people his age, even kids my age were. I sat there, listening to the different people speak, Mama had already gone, meaning Cole and I was coming up soon or next.

Which we were next. Cole took me by the hand and I followed him to the front of the church.

He motioned me to go first.

"My daddy, he is a man. He was the man. My mommy loved him. I think she does, I'm not sure," I looked around and seen that some people were confused and stopped crying. "Why was everyone crying? I don't understand. Cole told me he wasn't going to wake up anymore. He's still gonna be here, just somewhere else in the world."

I stopped for another minute, looking around again I see him. A man with a blue hoodie, grey pants, and brown hair peeking out through the blue mask.

My eyes lit up. "Jack! You're here!" I pointed to the window.

Everyone turned and seen him. Finally, someone other than Cole and I could see him.

Gasps and screams from people erupted in the church. I do not understand why they're screaming.

What was the problem?

Is Jack the problem?

Am I the problem?

-Present Time-

I hate this hotel or motel or whatever it is. It bothers me, other people have slept in this bed and stuff. Even though they wash the sheets, I still don't like it. It's just...strange.

I roll off of the bed and walk around the room, past the small kitchen-dining area, then into the bathroom. The door was open, meaning no one is in there. But hey, there are some people in this world who leave the bathroom door open, while they're using it.

I walk in and realize something. I need to turn around and leave. Micah was standing, in a towel. Nothing but a towel.

I assume he just got out of the shower. His dyed blonde hair was soaking, still dripping, and water was still running down him.

"Yeah, bye," I said, turning around.

"You don't have to..." He muttered, loud enough to hear me. So, I turned back around and questioned him.

"What? Why?" I questioned, turning the face the mirror to the left of my face.

"Because I said so. And I-" His voice started off loud, then went inaudible.

With that, I turned and walked away, out if the bathroom. Leaving the man that Micah is, in the bathroom. I, myself went to the kitchen because I'm a porker, may not look or seem like it, but yes, very much a porker.

After scanned the shelves, I found what I was looking for. The food that I call the love of my life-pudding. Pudding is life.

You know that thing that's going around today? The 'bae' thing. That's what pudding means to me. 'before anything else'. And yes, I know that in Danish, it means shit, or crap or poo-whatever floats your boat.