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The Memoir of Bona Gallio
Back Then: My Old World, and What Led me to You

Back Then: My Old World, and What Led me to You

“Your awake!” Shouted a tiny voice.

“Mmmm, hello Kokomo.” Bona replied groggily, looking at the face of the child sitting in front of him, waiting for Bona’s spell to end. He stood up from his desk in the small office and opened the shades illuminating the room. Kokomo sat atop the floor rug watching him with a smile on her face. When Bona’s office filled with light she ran to the door behind her, opened it and yelled again.

“Mama, he’s finally awake!”

“Shhh…, Kokomo if you keep yelling inside the house, I’m going to take away your training time with Metalli.”

Kokomo turns to Bona and looked terrified. She loved training with her older sister, if there was anything she wanted more in life, other than her family, it was to be like her father, a great warrior that fought what seemed a hopeless battle. She heard a little about it from Metalli, and her mother, and ever since then has hounded Bona to teach her how to use mana like him and share the stories that her mama loved about her papa.

She replied in a low voice, “No, please no. Sister Metalli was going to teach me how to make gooses.”

Bona gave a hearty laugh, bent over, and swopped up Kokomo making her feel weightless, but most of all loved. “Well Little Goose, how about that. Your gonna be able to show everybody how cute your papa sees you.”

“Humph, I’m not doing it to show off, I’m gonna be strong like you. Put me down or I will poke your eye thingy.” Kokomo said fiercely.

“You mean my eyeball?” Kokomo giggled and hugged her father.

“That word keeps making me laugh, why is it papa?” Bona, being a father now had no choice but to repeat that word constantly till she pleasantly suffered.

“Oh, you mean, EYEBALL!!! Eye, eye, eyeball.” Bona said it in a sing song voice and held Kokomo in the air. Kokomo shut her eyes and started kicking, laughing uncontrollably. She herself couldn’t explain its humor, because there was none, it was the simple matter that she loved this moment, rather every moment she spent with this man. Her abundant laughing finally caused her trouble breathing, at this point Bona apologized, set her down, and calmed her.

“Sorry girly.” If anyone knew how much Kokomo loved these days, it would be Bona. He felt the joy from every minute he got to spend doting on Kokomo. That was the purpose for using what is known as The Historian’s Spell, since Kokomo wanted to learn exactly what he went through, Bona figured to tell her, not from legends, not from speech, but from a first-person written account from the hero’s companion, Warrior Bona himself. Yet, he was impatient, deciding to speak those stories as well, though shortened and age appropriate, he believed hearing these stories will inspire her till she was old enough to read Bona’s Memoirs.

“Hey, Little Goose.” Bona gently called out to the little girl laying on the rug in the middle of his office, holding her belly, and desperately holding back her laughter, trying to heed her father’s warning to calm herself.

“Yes, ha,ha…, ummm, y-yes, Papa…, ha. Papa Eyeball!” Kokomo broke out in laughter again, pounding the ground with her small balled up hands. Completely forgetting her father’s warning. Soon after she felt pain in her stomach, she rested her hands on her belly and brought the laughter to a stop to cede the pain.

“Ow, my tummy.”

“Yeah, I bet it hurts. Tell you what, you wanna hear a story?” Kokomo sat up, making a pouting face from her stomachache.

“Is it about you?”

Bona nodded.

“K, I’m just.., gonna lie…, here.” Kokomo laid down slowly and let out a large, relaxed sign. She always liked laying on the rug, both in Bona’s office, and in the living room. Metalli would scold her to sit on the couch like a normal person, but Kokomo would say that the rug is a lot comfier. Eventually Bona and his wife decided that Metalli was right, but Bona did not care if she did it in his office… when no one else was around.

“All right, you rascal. When your papa was young…”

Revel was visiting his parents for Christmas break; I was in their backyard practicing my archery and martial arts. When I was in high school 8 years ago, while attending a church, I met a certain family. The father was the leader of the teens, eventually I ended up falling in love with one of his daughters, Iliana Amana. She was kind, she was beautiful, she was someone special to me. After a while, she changed, she distanced herself.

I fought hard to keep her in my life, but it wasn’t meant to be. My soul was intertwined with her, constantly my wondering mind found Iliana. To postpone this self-inflicted mental harm, I weaved my soul around as many roundabouts as possible. In simpler terms, I learned, and partook in as many hobbies and activities as possible. I learned archery, got back into martial arts, learned auto mechanics, carpentry, farming, animation, hiking…, etc.

Though it hurt, I still attended the church, eventually, I fell in love with Iliana’s older sister, Maggie. Shortly after my heart fell for Maggie, her father decided to change churches, to a church closer to home, Maggie warned me first, before her father announced it to the church. We exchanged phone numbers, we texted and called each other regularly, making plans to hang out.

At some point, my texts went unanswered, and when a reply was received, Maggie’s excuse was almost always, I was so busy I forgot to answer you, sorry. Again, I fought to keep her in my life, and was able to set up a hang out date on Christmas Eve, 6 years ago. My last happy memory is of her acting excited to try on a shirt I bought her for Christmas.

After she wore the shirt, I pointed out there is one more gift under the packing paper in the box. The look on her face was one of disbelief, but the gentle and fun smile at the end of it warmed me to the core. She said it was rather embarrassing and would probably end up being sleepwear. While prepping for bed a few nights later, she had sent me a text, in it was a photo of her with her friends, she had her left arm outstretched holding the camera, and her right hand was in a thumbs up position. She was wearing the cat face sweater, with its pink wet nose, and green eyes I got her for Christmas.

Her friends were in the background behind the table waving, but they were outshined by Maggie’s brilliant smile that brought life to that picture. She helped me greatly in getting over my first crush, I believe Maggie was my first love, and Iliana, my first crush. As much as I was helped by her, I was also devasted, in all their differences, Maggie and Iliana at least shared in my souls weakened constitution.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Maggie’s hair was naturally curly, Iliana’s was almost always straight, both had burnet hair. Iliana was slightly taller than Maggie, and more petite. Maggie had green eyes; Iliana had blue. I never fell for them because of looks, Maggie was always friendly and came to me for advice or help, Iliana was always playful, laughing, and spoke to me for a few weeks before she won me over. Losing them was a conflagration that has left me seeking revitalization.

As life went on those six years without them, my outlook on life changed drastically. One bad thing led to another, and eventually hardened me to sympathy. Wolf Larson, a character in Jack London’s “The Sea Wolf,” had an outlook on life that I adopted. “Why, if there is anything in supply and demand, life is the cheapest thing in the world.... Life? Bah! It has no value. Of cheap things it is the cheapest.”

I became a mechanic; my body was refined but not overly large which made being a mechanic easier. When a car was on a lift, at times, the doors would hit the arms carrying the vehicle to the heavens, and a big muscle guy would smash the door into the arm before fitting through the small gap.

I have dark brown eyes, and always kept my black hair in a buzz cut, my skin was a dark tannish color. If you’ve ever seen videos about SE Asia, I probably look similar to one of those guys.

After firing my hundredth arrow, Revel came out of the side door of the house and walked to the top of the staircase leading to the backyard.

“Hey idiot, foods ready.”

“K, let me pack everything up, suns going down and I’d rather not trip and faceplant trying to get everything in the truck when it’s pitch black.”

“Cool, cool.” Revel headed back inside.

After packing everything into the cab of my truck, I entered the same side door and was immediately met with the smell of 1,000,000 Scoville from the 30 odd hot chicken wings we were eating. Ask me to explain what there is to enjoy in such a meal and my reply will always be, beats me.

Revel Aberra has been my friend since freshmen year of high school, I loved the man like my brother. He knew full well what ailed me. And thanks to him, I haven’t given up on people entirely. He taught me to love the friends I do have, and to love my family, even if I must force it.

After our meal, I did the dishes, Revel caught me lost in thought.

“Hey Bona, where do you wanna go for our next vacation?”

“…”

My mind was thinking about what I would say when next I would see Maggie. “You chucked me aside, why would I ever go out of my way to hang out with you again?” I was just thinking of ways to let her understand that we were through. All of my replies seemed childish in my attempt to push her away without hurting her.

“Bona?”

“Huh, oh, sorry I didn’t catch that.” I finished up the dishes and walked over to the table and sat across from him.

“You still hung up on them?”

“Who?” Revel shook his head. He was always ready to give a lecture, but I accepted it because it meant I wouldn’t need to bother speaking and trying to defend myself. It was a bother to defend the position of not caring.

“Please get over them man. You used to have a lot more joy in life you know. I hate seeing you like this.”

“Oh, them. Yeah, your right, but it doesn’t hurt anymore, thinking about them. I don’t think they mean anything to me anymore, but it’s just easy to think about them, I guess.”

Revel always picked out when ever someone says something stupid. Most people would agree and move on, or just ignore it. Revel wanted to make sure you understood the stupidity of what you said. What made him different was he accepted it if he himself said something unintelligent. He was never one to be narcissistic, which I respected.

“That’s dumb man. You thinking about them all the time is a bad thing whether it hurts or not.”

“Hmm, shut your face Rebel.” Rebel was the name I called Revel in high school, he corrected me a few times, but I never ended up fixing it.

We talked for a while longer, eventually I brought up the time and we decided to head home. On my drive home, I was met with my worst enemy, a person. Swerving through traffic, they pulled in front of me, and slowed below the speed limit. I thought to myself that if this world would just let me, I want to ram that person off the road and stomped their hands into dust. To most this is just road rage, but to me, I premeditated this action. How would I cover it up, how do I hide his or her screams?

I still attended church, there are good people I just needed to be around.

My pastor loves his church and we felt it in his actions, in his words, and in where he placed his treasures. This Sunday’s message was about the frailty of life, about how we should live each day to show a dark world love.

“Life on this earth is desperately finite, show love to those you have in your life, and forgive those who hurt you. Life is full of lessons, don’t let the circumstances that mightily stampede it’s way into your life stop you from learning and growing to be a better person.” Pastor concluded his message with this, and I wondered if he truly understood my trials, because his message would help someone like me. Unfortunately, it was too late for me, the circumstances in my life did teach me, I’m sorry but my dark path is cemented.

“Yo, you get the flex plate out of the Chrysler yet?”

“You mean the rust bucket’s chopped up transmission bits? Yeah, and I left a note on the tranny telling them to buy a real car.” Me and the guys at the shop joked, when the boss showed up, we spoke about politics, and the insanity of the world.

The week was typically, only thing out of place was that Friday was my last day on this Earth.

On Friday’s ride home, my body felt like it was being crushed and baked. I pulled into a large empty parking lot, fought whatever weighted me down to open the window and rested my head against my seat’s headrest. I stared at the roof for a few seconds, taking in deep breaths, suddenly I heard voices, one female, and multiple males. I shut my eyes and continued breathing slowly, to calm myself.

This Friday, Tyler was scheduled, I had to perform interior work, Tyler was a weed head. Could this be an after effect of secondhand smoke from his stash?

The voices were not in English, yet I understood them. Rough translation: “Mighty in power, bring sorrow to the sorrow bringer. Warrior of might, be it thee that brings peace to sorrowed lands. Mighty in power, bring us the sorrow bringer…”

When I opened my eyes, there was a glow on the roof, a golden, warm glow, not bright. Fighting to look at my body, this light engulfed my skin and clothing, I said a little prayer, and reached for the door handle. Before my weighed down arm could touch the handle by my knees, the glow slowly vanished, gravity went and left me, and the only thing I felt was the chilly air hitting my body.

I didn’t want to bother anybody for help, therefore, after five minutes, I drove home. Normally, I wouldn’t announce my arrival, but today I felt different. My family and I have been growing distant, not apart, but we weren’t necessarily close. Today, I felt they needed to know I was home.

“I’m Home!” I yelled. Removing my belt, shoes, and jacket, I headed for the bathroom to shower before laying down in bed. On my way, the door to my little sister’s room opened…

“Hey Bona, guess what?”

“No…, okay, what?”

“Hillary is moving to Nebraska.”

“What? You two really got along. Did she get a job there, a house? Don’t go telling me she bought a house already.”

“No, don’t be so optimistic for my friends. She’s as poor as I am. Any case, yeah, she got a job as a head farmer. Thank you for inspiring her with all your vegie talk. Me and a few friends are celebrating tonight.” She said it happily, but her countenance did not look blissful, if I had to describe it, it looked reminiscent.

“Is her leaving getting you down?” She dropped her head and turned it slightly looking at the ground.

“Yeah, feels like everyone is leaving. First it was Racheal, then Ethan, now…, Hillary.” She said with a slow nod.

“Part of growing up little grasshopper. Just make sure you keep in touch with everyone best you can. If they seem to busy to answer, don’t push it. Now, I’m tired. Have fun with your friends.”

“Oh, are you working at the butcher shop this Saturday, if so, can you cut up some Fillet Mignon for Hillary?”

“No, tonight I’m gonna try to stay up late, so I don’t want to go. And you cant make me.” I stuck my tongue out and rushed into the bathroom. Of course, I will go, and text her in the morning to let her know.

After my shower, I put on some anime and laid in bed. Today was filled with abnormalities, for some reason, after my first episode, I was overcome with extreme listlessness. Though unexpected, I welcomed it, there is something calming in the idea that I could sleep without letting my mind wander. I shut off the anime, rolled to my side in bed and closed my eyes, accepting the darkness.

Hillary would never get those Fillet Mignons, my little sister would lose another, Revel would lose a brother, my mother a son. Though I cared not for this world, I was taken without warning into another world….

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