Impossible

I Am Jason Limber

Some people might say that it is impossible. Others I have told think it is possible, but only in stories. Even more say I am mad or living in a fantasy world. But there are few, others like me, who know. It is very much possible and it is as real as anything else in this world. It is real. I am real. I am Jason Limber and I have a secret. To say true or false? That's completely up to you. But this is my story, and I advise you believe it... 

I take a deep breath and release it as my eyes open to the beautiful sunrise of a new day. It's orange light shining into my room and bouncing off all the walls. The heat seeping into my skin as I stand up. Exactly a minute later, my sister storms into my room without knocking, as she always does, and I smile at her, "Woke up before you did," I say as I slip out of my covers. She scowls and sticks her tongue out at me like the annoying little sister that she is. I walk to the shower and turn the heat up to its fullest and let it run over my body as I let out a relaxed and comforted sigh. New day, new lies, another day as Jason Limber, all one big secret that can never get out. But when you do it for so long, you get used to it and if you're not careful, it becomes as natural as breathing. This is my life. This is my story. This is my lie. 

I get to school first, as usual, and walk over to the library and pick a book to read. I get about a few dozen pages before anyone else arrives. A few minutes later I'm talking with a few of my friends about the home economics assignment, which most of them didn't do. None of us really care though. Our conversations are always crazy and apparently, anything that is crazy is funny. I'm still yet to figure out how that works though. We talk for about twenty minutes before the school bell rings for first period. And wouldn't luck have it that our first period is Home Economics. I look at my friends, who are suddenly starting to sweat, and smirk at them before pushing the door open and allowing them in, "Please, dead ones first," I say as I bow in front of the door and gesture them in. They look at me in a funny way before, one by one, they enter the room. 

Others who did do their homework, however, enter the room a few minutes later and they all go wild. Talking about what happened yesterday, what they wrote in their homework, and you suddenly see some people flip their notebooks open and start scribbling down what others are saying. It is an absolute racket. Then she walks in. Her straight and short air brushed on her shoulders and her high heels knocking on the paved floor. She walks to the front of the class and puts her hands behind her back. The class falls to silence. She cleared her throat and began to speak, "Take out your notebooks, textbooks, communication book and laptops, now." Her voice was sharp and piercing. And her eyes, though she may not be looking at you, it feels like her eyes are slicing through your very soul. Sometimes I wonder how she can be so bitter yet cook food that is so sweet. Another thing I'm yet to figure out. 

Today we'll be making cake and decorating it as we wish. They give us options and I seem to be the only one that chooses red velvet. I decorate it with ice-cream-icing and caramel decorations. I'm alone because my partner missed the last lesson so she had to stay in the class while I was in t the kitchen, cooking. And women are meant to be the cooks. Psh. And when I'm done and about to set the cake on the plate and decorate it, she walks in. "Hey. What can I do to help?" I just stand there and stare at her. In my mind, I'm picturing all the many ways I could slap her across the face and which would hurt more. But unfortunately for me, I can't. Never been in detention and never intend to. 'Well?" she says, clearly expecting a response. I pinch my eyebrows and sigh gently, "set up the tray". She bops up and skips to it, her curly brown hair jumping up and down and scattering in a million places. She slides the cake unto the tray, "how would you like the sugar decorations, boss?" It's funny how she can be so loose in any situation. Honestly. How is she still alive? I push her aside gently and spread it the way I like. She seems quite happy so I must have done something right.