Читать книгу The Undying Truth - C J Higginbotham - Страница 6

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Chapter 1

“Levi, wake up!” my older sister, Cara, says, sitting on my bed.

“I’m tired, Cara, just a couple of more minutes.”

“You have been saying that for the last thirty minutes. Come on, we are going to be late for school. You still have to get dressed and put your contacts in,” she tells me, like it’s new information. We have been doing it our whole lives.

“Okay, I am awake.” I sit up to see her in a T-shirt with our favorite band, and some skinny jeans on. Cara is slim with long brown hair and freckles spread across the top of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. To me, her freckles portray her innocence, and her smile always makes me feel like everything will be okay, which is nice because nothing has ever felt okay.

I continue to sit there as she walks out of my room. She leaves me to think about my routine, which I dread doing. It’s like hiding myself from everyone every day. If I am always hiding, it makes me wonder if I even belong here. I know I am different, but why do I feel like I am living a lie?

Yawning, I find a random shirt and regular blue jeans to throw on. I don’t really mind how I look for school. I have no one to impress. Ezra sees it differently, so he pesters me over it. I rush into the bathroom to put in my contacts. I never understood why we need them because all they do is change our eye color. Why should I have to hide the color of my eyes? My irises are blue, and the blue blends into my pupil. The further away from the pupil, the lighter the blue. Why should I have to hide something that makes me so unique?

I am Leviticus Christopher Porter.

Now my sister, Cara, has the same pattern in her eyes, but only a different color. Her eyes are green. I wonder if wearing the contacts bothers her as much as it does me. Then there is Ezra, the oldest; he has yellow eyes. Although he has the same unique eye pattern as we do, he is the complete opposite of Cara and me. He’s on the meaner side of the spectrum. The contacts that we must wear make the color of our iris one solid color, to look more like mom’s eyes.

My dad wears the contacts too. His eyes are gray with the same eye pattern like the rest of us. Dad has a kind of warrior vibe that he gives off, solemn and wise with experience. His gruff yet well-kept beard and strong jawline display that very well. His body resembles a stone wall, and he is almost six feet tall. Although there are many differences we have from everyone else, the pattern of our eye color is the most noticeable thing that sets us apart from everyone else.

I look in the mirror to see my rounded face looking back at me. My short brown hair is sticking up in the back, and I can take a good guess that this is something Ezra will target me about. I head downstairs to see my dad reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. This is his routine every morning. As I join them, Mom serves Dad his toast and coffee. Since I am running late, I’m the last one to join the table. She has already served Ezra and Cara, while my plate waits for me. My mom has brown hair and brown eyes. She is always smiling and is a very gentle person. My dad also has brown hair, which is the only thing my parents have in common, really, other than us children. He thanked Mom for the food, and she leans over him and gives him a light kiss.

“Glad you could join us, Leviticus,” Mom says, as my plate of eggs and bacon is at the table. “Now hurry up and eat, you three. You don’t want to be late for school, do you?”

“Mom, I don’t like school. I am okay with being late,” I whine to my parents, hoping to get out of even a few extras minutes of school.

“Why don’t you like school?” Dad says, putting down his paper for the first time this morning.

“Because the kids pick on me, and I’m a little baby,” Ezra says, poorly impersonating me.

“Ezra, why do you have to be so mean? It wasn’t too long ago that you were saying the same thing that Levi is,” Cara says coming to my defense. Ezra just laughs to himself as he grabs my bacon.

“I’m leaving!” he tells us as he walks out the door.

“Hurry and finish up, Levi. I know school is rough, but it will get better, I promise,” Mom says. She then grabs my book bag and hands it to me.

I take a couple bites of food as I nod my head, and then I walk out the door. Cara puts her arm over my shoulders as we leave the house.

Now that I am eleven years old, Mom has decided that I am old enough to walk to school with my brother and sister. Ezra always walks in front of us, wearing his headphones, which is fine because Cara and I walk at our own pace to school.

“Don’t mind him. He is just a bully,” Cara says, trying to make me feel better. She must have noticed me staring him down as we walk.

Even though Ezra frustrates me, the uncomfortable feeling of being out of place outweighs even Ezra. “Cara…why are we so different?” I ask her because I hate the fact that I feel like an outcast in school.

“How are we different? You mean our eyes? Well, we get it from Dad,” she says, not sure what answer I was looking for.

“I’m not sure. I just feel so awkward being so different from everyone else,” I tell her, unable to truly explain how I feel.

“You know, I used to feel like that, too, but eventually, I just learned to accept it.” She can sense that I don’t really accept her answer, so she continues, “I am sure everyone goes through that feeling when they are younger, but it’ll pass. I know it did for me, and I asked Dad and Ezra about it. They told me the same thing as I am telling you. I also had my doubts, but you will work through it. You will find out it’s pretty normal. We’re almost to school, but if you have any other issues or questions you want to talk about, we can talk after school. You know I am always here for you.”

I nod as we approach the schoolyard. I don’t mind separating at this point because I know I will see her at lunch. Knowing I will see her later makes the school day more bearable. We must split up here because she is in eighth grade and eighth graders enter the building from the back. Being a sixth grader, I must enter through the front.

Since Ezra is in high school, I don’t have to deal with him or his mean comments through the school day. Even though school is depressing, it’s still a nice break from Ezra. So at least for one more year, it will be me and Cara sticking it out in this building because next year, she will join Ezra in the high school building next door. Then I will be left alone to cope with this inadequate feeling by myself.

I tried to talk her into failing a grade so she could stay in this building with me longer. I don’t know what I would do without her. She has a 4.0 GPA, which is very important to her. After a while, I stopped begging her because she finally shared that she saw her ability to attain and use knowledge as a gift—a gift that in her mind has a special calling. She was embarrassed to think of it like she was special. I was the only person she has spoken about the future and her views on her life. Her heart is set on becoming a scientist of some sort because she thinks that it’s the best way to help people. I see it in her eyes that she wants to be there to help me, but she can’t.

We see the world differently, although I do hope she pursues her path in life. I want the opposite of her dreams. I don’t want to be famous or stick out of the crowd. Even if it’s for a second or if it is for something good, I would rather be basic. That’s why school bothers me. I’m always being pointed out of the crowd from classmates. I wish I could just stay invisible.

As I walk into the building, I keep my head down so I won’t have to make eye contact with anyone. It’s hard to make friends when I feel like I have nothing in common with anyone here. Silently I push my way through the crowded hallway, keeping my head low, trying to make it to my classroom. I almost make it through the crowd when a student trips me. I can see my destination in view as I fall to my face.

“Have a nice trip. See you next fall!” says the boy, looking down at me.

I don’t know the boy, but his friends gather beside him and laugh hysterically like a pack of hyenas. With embarrassment glowing in my face and anger in the pit of my stomach, I quickly pick myself up and rush into the classroom. Inside my homeroom class, I put my book bag on its designated hook, and then I find my assigned seat. I sit with my head down as the rest of the class finds their seat.

Nick Peer is a bigger bully than my brother, and to make things worse, he sits behind me, which gives him the opportunity to pester me constantly. He never gets into trouble because the teachers speak so highly of him. They always claim he is the best student. The beginning of the school year, I dropped my grades to all Cs, which was a bigger challenge for me than the actual work. After that, the teacher changed his seat from the front of the class to behind me. I get all As now to try to show the teacher she can move him back.

“Hey, Leviticus, are you going to cry today?” Nick says after flicking my ear.

“Nick, I would appreciate it if you would stop touching me.” I would rather punch him in the face, but I know I can’t because my family expects differently from me. It’s mainly my mom telling me to kill them with kindness.

“Oh, you would? I guess I will just leave you alone then.”

“Thank you,” I say. Did it actually work? I think to myself, but in that same moment, I realize Nick has spit on the back of my neck. I feel the saliva drip down my neck, and my stomach turns. I spoke too soon, I think to myself as I wipe it away with my hand. Maybe if I ignore him, he will just stop.

I hate it here. Why be in a place that doesn’t want me? Not only that, but the material is so basic. I am so bored here. After I endure three hours of paper spit balls hitting the back of my head and whispered insults, the lunch bell finally rings. I jump up and rush to the cafeteria. This is the period I can sit with Cara. This is always the highlight of my day, being able to talk to someone whom I personally feel close to. I find Cara and wave at her. She waves me on to get into line beside her.

“Where do you think you are going?” I hear Nick say from behind me. Seeing his friends beside him, I don’t say a word. I only walk faster. Then he kicks my foot, and I fall to the ground for the second time today.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Cara says, running up to me.

“Aw, your sister has to protect you.”

“At least he is wanted! You were adopted!” Cara says, giving them dirty looks. Nick walks away sad, because she wasn’t lying; he really was adopted.

“Thanks, Cara. How was your day?” I say, grateful for her help.

“You can’t let them bully you like that, Leviticus. They are just going to keep doing it.”

“I would, but Dad says I can’t hurt anyone. He says I don’t know my strength just yet. Mom says I have to be polite, so I don’t know what else to do,” I say, putting my head down in defeat.

“Well, I’m sure there is something you can do to make them back off,” she says with a smile.

“I’ll figure it out. How has school been for you?”

“Easy, I almost fell asleep! We are starting a science project, but I don’t think anyone would understand my ideas. I’m just far to advanced for everyone here.”

“Why don’t you start skipping grades and graduate earlier?” I ask her.

“I wish I could, but Dad says that it’s better to get the whole school experience. I think he is talking about more of the social part of school.”

“I think I’ve already gotten enough of that part of school.”

We finish lunch by staying in our own world, eating and laughing together. Then the bell rings, and I go back to class. Dreading seeing her leave my side, I watch the clock and try to stay mentally occupied until the final bell rings.

After school, we are home alone. Both of my parents work. Ezra and I share a room, but I normally hang out on the couch or in Cara’s room. Being her little brother, I don’t want to bother her too much, so I try to stay to myself as much as possible. Cara is a bookworm, so she reads all the time, and Ezra works out.

Every day is always the same, but today I decided to do something different and play outside. I sit around on the porch looking around for something to do. Shade from a tree in the front yard catches my attention.

I could climb up there to be alone above everyone, I think to myself, walking toward the tree. I jump up and grab the lowest branch and make my way closer to the top.

“Leviticus!” Dad yells from the bottom of the tree. His voice scares me, and I miss my footing and fall. I hit a branch, and I hear a loud crack. At the bottom, Dad catches me. “Are you okay? That sounded painful,” Dad says, looking worriedly at my arm. Tears start streaming down my face. The pain is too much. I look down to see my bone broken and poking out. Dad walks me into the house. “Deep breath!” He pops my arm back into place. “See? All better,” dad says with a comfortable smile.

“It still hurts, Dad,” I say to him, fighting back tears that still find a way to pour out.

“That is because you need medicine. Here, I’ll make you some tea,” he says, getting up.

“Tea? That is your solution?” I don’t know who gives worse advice mom or dad. He comes back and tells me to drink it. I look into the cup to see a dark-reddish color mixing with the brownish liquid. I take a sip, and it tastes good—sweet and smooth. The tea is hot, but it tastes so good that I don’t mind. In seconds, the swelling is down, only light bruising remains. Dad doesn’t talk to Mom about what happened, but we all sit to eat food. My mom has this tradition of us telling everyone a good thing about our day and a bad thing about our day. Mom calls it our high and lows. I don’t like the game. My day is always negative.

It’s nighttime, and I finally fall asleep. I always have the same recurring dream. I am in a big room with bright lights. I’m really small, or everyone around me is really big. Maybe I’m a baby? I’m being held by giants. Completely stunned in fear, I lie there, crying. They put me down, and I touch the icy floor. I’ve never touched anything like that before. I start to fall over, but I manage to balance myself. I start trying to walk. I stumble a couple of times, but I get the hang of it.

I am led into a room that has other babies. The floor has comfortable mats that makes my feet feel relaxed. The other babies are as big as me, which means I am also a baby. I look around at these creatures with wings. I am all by myself. I’m scared, so I try to escape. I reach a gate that has “Play pin” on it. The sign is supposed to look fun, but looking around the room, fun is not the word I would use.

It is hectic. Everyone is fighting, clawing at each other, to the point that they draw blood. Some are throwing toys, others are screaming, crying, and to my surprise others are flying. Yelling and screaming is all I can hear. My eyes are panicking looking rapidly around the room. I feel my chest getting tight, and I start to get real light headed. Then everything goes black for a second and then I wake up.

It is so real I tell myself maybe it is my first baby memory. I sit up and decide to use the bathroom. I walk out of my room at the same time as Cara.

“What are you doing up?” I ask her, wondering if she has been having the same dream like me.

“I always have a hard time sleeping at night. What about you?”

“I keep having the same dream over and over. It is making me restless,” I tell her this and watch her body language, but it doesn’t faze her.

“What is it about?”

“It is like I am born. Then I’m with a lot of other babies that are violent. It is so real. I can still here the cries.” The sounds stick with me as I tell her. After I tell her, she thinks roughly almost like she is remembering something.

“That is a weird dream, but that is just what it is—a dream. Levi, try to forget about it,” she tells me with worried eyes. I tell her okay and good night as I head back to my room to sleep.

The Undying Truth

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