Grimoire book of the lesser key
this was alot harder to write than my first submission, feel free to tear apart
I sat up, images of what I just witnessed still danced around freshly in my mind; my body was dressed in sweat, and my throat stung. I must have actually screamed while I was asleep. I turned on my multicoloured lamp. My rooms pale blue walls were flooded with light, the darkness crept away into the corners of my room; I looked over into the corner of my room. There stands a large wooden desk, and on it lies a small TV and a memoir from my father. A tall brown hand carved clock that he’d built for me as child. He died when I was only 3. I only have one memory of him left.
My brother Allen, my mom, and my dad were together at a park that lies across the street of our small little house. It’s my favourite memory. Me my brother played around on a parks slides, and swings. My parents sat on a blanket laughing, and joking with each other. My father’s muscular sleek body cradled my mom’s small slender figure in his arms, they affectionate like that. I remember riding on his shoulders and ruffling my hands through his short messy black hair. The only time me family ever felt complete was when he was there, but one night he got he didn’t come home.
That night we got a phone call from the police, they said he’d been stabbed on his way home. While passing through an alley a mugger came up behind him, and took his life for a couple of bucks and a credit card. I didn’t understand at first why my mom was crying, I kept telling her he’ll come home soon. She tried to explain it to me, but it never sunk in. Until one night my brother got fed up, out of spite he looked into my eyes and said “He’s never coming back, you won’t hear his voice or see him ever again”! Then tears quickly followed, that’s when I knew things would never be the same again.
I look away from the clock; its happy moments only bring sadness in the end. I stretch my body and check down the hallway. My mom’s door is still shut; she probably went to cafe early for her morning shift (or she was drunk). So I tiptoe across the carpet so not to wake my brother into the bathroom. Below the light switch hangs these three creepy clown masks, they still freaked me out whenever I saw them. I turned to examine myself in the mirror; my plain white t-shirt shirt now clung to my overly large build. My usually long curly brown hair now sat flat in a sweaty mess, and my eye blue eyes still sting from the sudden the jerk awake. I toss the shirt into my hamper exposing my stomach and there for lack if abs. I was fat in elementary, only now did I start working out. I tear my gaze away from my body, vanity used to be my greatest sense of insecurity. I used to hate my body with a passion, and this brought on a constant sense of loathing to others. I’m not fat anymore, but the feeling still tend to linger, so I choose to never look into mirrors unless I have to, it’s easier that way.
I pull myself away from all these negative thoughts, tomorrows Monday I might as while enjoy today as much as I can. I walk back into my room and toss on a pair of jeans, with black t-shirt to match. Then I tossed over it my favourite dark blue hoodie with black tribal stripes running through it.
As I ran my hand through the sleeve, my phone went off. So I scooped it up and answered “hello”. A deep mellow voice replied “Hey, it’s Andrew” (best friend). “Sup, Asian”, I joked. “Do you want to come to mall with me and Dominic we’re planning on buying a book and renting a movie”? He asked. “Yah sounds good I’ll tell you about this messed up dream I just had“I replied happily. It be good to get out, I defiantly needed it right now.”Alright I’ll see yah later” I finished. “good, see yah there",he chirped happily
