'Dear journal, it has been seven hundred-nine days since I have kept a journal. So far nothing has been going bad, the people around me still treat me neutrally as always, but it's better than being ignored….way better.'
"Sigh." Riiiipp. Crumble. The small boy ripped out the paper from the leatherback journal with a despondent look. His small hands clenching unto the expensive piece of paper many would have trouble to acquire. However, to someone of his caliber, it was more or less an easily acquirable commodity.
"I suck at writing as ever," he said as he threw away the paper in his hand into a pile that was impossible to tell where it began and ended as it seemed to cover the entire floor. Scribble, scribble. "What the fuck am I writing?" Rip. Crumble. And once again another piece of paper was added onto the ever-rising pile.
To the everyday person, they would ask why such a young child carried such a heavy aura on himself when they should be full of cheer and smiles. However, no one could ever guess that the young boy that carried such a despondent attitude would be hiding the mind of an adult man in a childish body.
Yes. Raphael the to-be twelve-year-old boy was, in fact, an adult man, who had once died and by some miracle had managed to avert his fate and inhabited the body of a child. However, it seems that as compensation for a new life, he had to pay the weight of life with his own. The memories that were forged with experiences had nearly all been taken from his damaged mind, leaving only fragments that when put together held no meaning.
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"Shit." However, none of that mattered now, since Raphael was now facing issues that would affect his life. In the world, or to be more precise, on the lands he calls home, the age of adulthood is when one reaches the age of twelve. And for Raphael that in ten days' time, he will no longer be treated as a child and the orphanage would have no choice but to let him go from their warm embrace.
The young boy grasped his head with both hands desperately trying to come up with solutions to his problem. Once he turns twelve a job would be assigned to him so that he earns his keep, and for the past few months, he had been trying to land a job with any of the shops in his hometown. He was turned down for several reasons that reneged from being inexperienced to not having the proper build. But he knew the truth, they only looked at the young boy and the naivety that followed one.
"Screw everyone." thump. He threw the journal on his desk and stood from his chair to climb onto his small bed. He then sat cross-legged and closed his eyes, and began to take deep breaths to calm himself. Of the few memories he kept with him, meditation was nearly the only one he applied other than simple meals that he could cook. It was only a couple of years back that he realized that small bits of information at his disposal would be so nutritious to his development. It was something he discovered at a very young age and was a fundamental law of the world. Words could describe the phenomena with ease but the floating droplets of water that threaded the air in front of Raphael could draw a better picture.