TW:// Death and Sickness.
Side Note: References to some lyrics by an artist called "Yoe Mase" are prevalent but they are only there for dramatic purpose and not to steal from the artist. Use of the lyrics are completely original. Also I'd like to add that this story was inspired by the Twenty One Pilots song "Redecorate" and so a lot of themes from that song is also prevalent but the use and interpretation of the theme of the song is original.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"When you hear the bell, bring yourself back, to the breath."
Julian opened his eyes as moisture poured into them. He rubbed them and his dry eyes began to water. He'd had the same dream again. His room was dark. Suddenly the world illuminated into life with light. His mother had opened the window and was standing smiling, looking; looking at him.
Julian's heart fluttered with unfamiliarity.
"Did I wake you? I didn't think you could hear me," she said, her smile faltering with a strain. Julian noticed how it didn't completely reach up to her eyes.
Julian didn't respond. He closed his eyes again.
Slowly, his mother inched towards him. Julian could feel her warmth, that rippling sense of relaxation and comfort. Her hand must've been really close to him now, he could smell the pancakes she'd made for his brothers and sisters. He could feel the tender touch of her palm. The way her warm skin always seemed cold against his. Ice cold because she didn't want them there. Julian rolled over and put the blanket over him, chancing a glance at his mom. He saw her flinch with sadness as a veil of darkness covered him.
"I'll bring you some coffee," his mother said, her voice muffled through the blanket.
She left, closing the door as slow she could. Julian could tell her hand was shaking around the knob. He wondered if he would hear these subtle things if he didn't look out for them every time he did anything. Every time his mind wandered to the thoughts he never vocalized, as they hit his stomach like stinging hot iron and coiled around his insides. He really didn't want the coffee.
****
Julian looked dreamily out the window; his hands against the pot of coffee his mother always seemed to bring him for cold winter mornings. How could he tell her it didn't make him feel warm? Ever?
Julian looked out the slowly frosting glass window and saw his city bloom into view. His pale pupils shook from the intensity of light outside. Even though the clouds bleached the sky and sunlight; his eyes needed accustoming to the smallest amount. London meant a lot of things to lot of people. London should've been just another city, but to Julian it was so much more. London was beautiful; beautiful like the only place he'd even known. The serene skies filled with soft puffs of clouds. The gorgeous trees slumping with the burden of saying goodbye to the leaves that held onto them for three seasons.
Sometimes Julian threw the window open and stood by the edge letting the city breeze sweep by, caressing his hair and flirting with his eyelids, sending thrills of cold through his lashes where they tenderly lost themselves is his big dark eyes as he opened them and life bustled into view. London was never a quiet city. Not even at night; Julian would know as he never slept. He couldn't sleep; slowly crying in pain for all of his torments. That's why Julian cherished mornings. They made him feel cozy; at peace. So, he pushed his thoughts of the night away and his stomach lurched in pain. Julian smiled bitterly.
"Mimo?" a girl with short blonde hair walked in his room, her gaze uncertain and playful like always. She had big blue eyes which were looking at Julian as if he was an aquarium full of wonders.
Julian winced. He bent down and ruffled his sister's hair.
"Mimo?" he repeated; straining to smiling. His sister didn't notice.
"MIMO!" she screamed; her mouth now wide open in innocent joy.
"I'm Julian. Lila, you're not learning your names properly. Isn't Chresti teaching you well?" Julian spoke, playfully stern.
The little girl pouted, "But you have big black eyes," she said slowly caressing his hair, Julian's gut wretched inwards, "Like that one fish from 'Mimo'" she said, her eyes flaring with happiness. Julian guessed he could have this one moment. Just one. ''Its Nem-" Julian began but he was interrupted.
"Mom's sad about you." she spoke, more as if she was being told to than she wanted to. Julian's heart gripped with a sharp anger. How could they use her? How could they already make her hate- "She's sad Mimo."
Julian broke. He threw his pot of coffee on the ground with tremendous force, as it spilled all through the sprawled books, newspapers and articles he'd always collected but never bothered to clean. His favorite dragon toy was soaked with the brown liquid. So was every toy he'd sprawled around his room, never bothering to clean. Never letting anyone else do it either.
"JULIAN-" his mother burst into the room, her face contorted in fear and pity, her hair wasn't tied and flew about frantically. Her eyes darted to the room and she saw the spill. She looked back at Julian with sad eyes. Somehow, her eyes, the emotion behind them, made Julian more annoyed.
"Get out mom! And take Lila with you! I don't want your coffee! I don't want any of it!" Julian screamed back at her.
She smiled at him. Julian couldn't believe her gall.
"Did you have a nightmare? You should've called me, I would've slept with you," she continued, slowly advancing towards him. Her eyes tearing and contorted. They looked a lot like Julian's when he'd been talking to Lila. Julian couldn't bear it. Her black eyes that darted back into his like a bullet searing his skin. Julian ran for his bed. Lila started crying.
"I don't need you! I don't need your help!" he shouted to her; his words as cold as ice. His mother flinched again as he drew his blanket over him. He blocked out everything, his ears, his eyes and his heart.
Lila kept crying. After a while, Julian heard a door close and the crying muffled.
But still, Lila had cried.
****
"Don't look down, out into nothing. Don't look down, searching for something."
Julian looked into his soup bowl staring at the flakes of chicken float by. There was too much salt Julian had thought, although he'd never mention that to his mother. No talking around the dinner table. Nor did he want to.
"Hey Jules, pass me that bowl," Chresti, his oldest sister poked him as he picked up the bowl and gave it to her. She was nearer to it than he was. Julian scowled at how odd she was. She gave him a half smile.
Julian's two other brothers, and his three other sisters sat around the table all flinging food at each other. Lila was laughing until she cried out of laughter. Cried. The words parched Julian's tongue. She was innocent. She did nothing.
His father was late to meals again, as always working in the factory. Julian liked his father; liked him in the way he never got to talk to him much so he didn't have reason to be afraid of him. Julian looked sideways at his mother. She was smiling and laughing. Talking to Chresti mostly. Julian decided his dinner was over.
"Hey Lila, you can come to room when you're done if you like," Julian breathed the words, wishing he could whisper it into her ears.
Instead, the whole table fell silent. Except Lila.
"YAY! Ooooooo can we watch that movie about giant spiders?" she asked her eyes beaming.
Julian nodded and scurried along to his bedroom. He didn't like when everyone looked at him. But he did it for Lila, as he would do for his other siblings.
***
"Mimo?" Lila slowly opened Julian's bedroom door and stood quietly peering through.
Lila took a while before she could process what was happening. She had never seen her brother like this. The brother that had cared for her, ruffled her hair during movies, shown her how to describe pictures, and made sure Lila was always laughing, was lying on the ground, his mouth and face lurching in a look of agony. Julian screamed. Lila screamed.
Lila got pushed past the door as Julian's mother came hurrying in. Julian made a mental note to tell her to never push Lila again. Julian doubted he'd remember anything at all. Doubted he'd ever feel again. The pain in his stomach was so intense he could barely feel it. His mother dropped to her knees and picked him up, her hands clutching a liquid bottle and her face contorted. Her eyes wide. Her lips parched. Her cheeks pale. Julian saw it. There was no denying it. His mother was looking at her son with hate and fear.
***
"Fated; but it doesn't feel right."
Today, Julian Rosaeles had a dream. A dream about his parents. A dream about his siblings. A dream about him:
Julian Rosaeles greeted his brothers and sisters to school with a smile on his face. He didn't know if he looked like he was smiling. He hoped he didn't look like what his heart was feeling. Julian let the busy London commuters pass by him as he looked down from his window and observed the city. People roamed freely outside. Some went to work and others like his brothers and sisters; to school. Julian even found himself staring intently at the people than wandered the street; aimlessly roaming the callous London Market Square. As always, narrowing his eyes at the people below, Julian slammmed the window shut and let his ears ring with the numb silence that followed.
"Julian we're leaving! Please close the door behind me!"
Julian heard his mother call out to him. He slowly stepped outside his bedroom and nodded at her. She turned towards the other children all sprawled around her in their uniforms, chatting away to each other. Lila waved at Julian. He waved back. Julian's mother smiled around her children. She smiled wide and she laughed loudly. She also looked back at Julian with a short and strained smile as she closed the door of the apartment. When you had a good for nothing son, you wanted them out of the house. It's natural to see them as a burden. Julian even thought of himself as a burden. It wasn't irrational. It wasn't something he could drown out with love. He didn't feel any love; not from his family. His siblings did not suffer like Julian did. His mother didn't see them as a burden.
Julian had always been sick, since his birth. Always being laid in his bed and taken care of. It must get tiring.
But Julian had planned to relieve his mother of her torment. He planned to relieve himself of his torment. If they thought of him as burden, he would leave. Once his sickness got better, once he roamed London all by himself, he would leave them behind. He hated them and their notion of a "Julian the burden." Of course, he'd come back for Lila time to time. But just Lila. Because she was the only one that didn't look at him the way they did. She was the only one he'd loved.
So, in this trance, Julian slept. Every time in this trance of pride and hate, Julian was able to sleep. The prospect of hope not biting his skin. The prospect of freedom giving him strength.
And so, he slept. Each time his stomach relented to his dreams.
***
Julian's mother slowly caressed the hair from her son's temple. She put a wet towel on his face as she'd done every time his stomach pain intensified, every time he had a gut-wrenching headache and every time he had sudden fevers. She suffered, even through the clear hatred of her son. Her son that had gotten everything snatched away from him for no good reason. Her son that had never gotten a life. Because living like Julian did wasn't living. She patted his hair.
The apartment door lock creaked open. Her husband had returned. She let Julian sleep with one last swirl of her hands over his face and she strolled out of the room.
***
"When you hear the bell----
Julian woke up, the church bells treading their way through the air and into his ears. It was close to sunrise. Twilight, Julian's favorite part of the day. Julian noticed little droplets of rain begging to kiss the ground of London with harmony. He strolled out his bedroom. His throat was bone dry. The pain in his stomach still ensued. It had been getting worse over the last few days. Julian cursed the gods. How was he supposed to run away when he couldn't barely walk towards his own kitchen? Passing by his parents' bedroom, he heard the low murmur of his mother's voice. He heard his own name and stopped dead in front of the door.
"He's getting worse John, the medicine isn't working," his mother was saying, her voice sadder than Julian had ever heard. He wondered when was the last time he actually carefully listened to his mother. All this careful picking out of footsteps and doorknob twists, he'd never given much thought to how her mother always sounded. Right now, she was choking on her words. His hate faltered.
"Samantha, don't worry. We'll go to the doctor's today. It's his 11th birthday today, we should take him with us. He needs to see London, even if it's his first time."
"John I-"
"What's wrong? Is there something you're not telling me? It's hardly fair when you hide these things from me. I don't- I'm not home all the time. Samantha, please."
"I'm just so worried for the poor kid. He hates us. I know he does. He thinks I-"
"Oh, I'm sure he doesn't hate us- that's- that's absurd. He's your son. Our son. And I would know, we have plenty. He doesn't hate you."
"You don't get it John. You don't see the way he looks at me. You don't see that way he talks...or doesn't talk to me. To any of us."
"I-"
"I'm just worried he will leave me before I get a chance to explain to him. Explain how much he's had taken away from him and explain how much I love him regardless. I don't know if he'll ever understand us, understand he's not a burden when I look at him with smiling eyes, but he never seems to like it when I smile. He always looks away. Does he see his pain in mine? Does he see mine? He looks at me in disgust sometimes, looks at his siblings in jealousy. How do I tell him my heart burns for him the most, that I love him more than I could love myself? I don't know if he'll ever-"
Her words drowned out as Julian ran back to his bedroom, tears streaming down his eyes. It couldn't be true. Her words- Julian choked on the gravity of the words. Choked on his hate, his jealousy, his mistakes. Realization struck him like a freight train, his ears buzzed with guilt and hurt. He gulped fire as his stomach burned and singed with pain. From sickness or guilt? Julian couldn't decide.
"---bring yourself back to the breath."
But Julian couldn't breathe. He remembered the Tales Of King James, the story book he'd read out to Lila, her laughing at how the prideful king met his fall because of his big-headed mistakes. Julian wondered whether his sister would remember him as King Jules. Julian cried.
Julian's room was a mess, he'd never bothered to fix any of this. He'd never bothered to clean thinking he would be leaving them behind one day anyway. Julian's stomach lurched in pain again. His tongue was bitter. Why had he never made his room look like more of a permanent home than a temporary one? How could he never realize? Looking around his room, something told him he should tidy up. He collected many things but never quite enough. Never tried looking at it from- the words got stuck in his mind. He wanted to be home now more than he ever did. But the shadow in the corner of his room told him; assured him; that it was too late. There was no returning to his home now. A home he'd just realized was his.
Julian didn't want to leave his family anymore. Not like this. He'd never told them he loved them. He'd never understood why they looked at him they way they did. Never knew of their love for him. Until now. Guilt parched his throat as it dried out like a desert.
He wanted to redecorate his room. Wanted that sense of warmth and comfort in cleaning his room. In showing them how wrong he had been. Even if this was a small payback, he would earn his way through to their forgiveness. He didn't want to make them make decisions based on what he'd done. He wanted to redeco- the words got stuck in his mind again. His stomach now felt like lead, lurching with a pain so intense he wasn't sure how he was standing up.
Julian couldn't see his room, his eyes went black, the edges of his pupils slowly going dark like vignetting pictures. He had no more chances left. Julian didn't scream for help as he lay down on the floor, eyes not completely shut. He whispered apologies to his family and a kiss to Lila hoping the air would carry his thoughts to them through his shut door. Hoping it would carry his love to Lila. To all of them. He couldn't redecorate the life he wanted to live, so Julian kept his failure on display. Soon, Lila and the others would find his. She would cry. As he lay eyes closed giving up to his sickness, his stomach lurched treacherously one last time. Lila would cry.
"I wish I was there for you; what for? I'm not really sure."
*****************************************************************************
Enjoy :)
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments