Escaping Tethoris

I wrote this is show case a fictional view of reality. The plot line is based on a childs mind and their perspectice of hop, joy, and difference. I wonder the lonleness of myselfthough Jason to attatch this sense of connection to the audience. His story has no soft edges, just like mine.

• Fiction

								
                                        -Proluge- 
It was a lie.

Some believed that by changing one thing, another would follow, but this was never the case. Why was it so hard to change in the end? The ideas that swarmed their head, the thoughts swallowing every word spoken, the
scars one brings tangled with doubt, or did they just forget to care enough to
try? Ideas can stay inside your head for days and never leave, they are a
constant reminder of the unspoken. Thoughts and ideas crowd the mind,
suffocating a person until no more. The fear each person carries can harm the
brain, making the world seem dangerous, clinging to the closest thing they
have; even if it’s the worst thing to touch.
I ask myself these questions every day, hoping I can decipher the
code inside a person's mind to shift into a greater development of character,
and yet, I can't even decipher myself. It's not a surprise though, how could I
understand everything in my brain, it's the equivalent of asking a wall to
speak. Sometimes things are left unsaid, which begs the question, why am I
always left with everyone's questions?


                          -Grindwell Academy-

The air turned black all around him. Sometimes, the world moves
faster than those in it, and it can become the most conflicting sight. Both
beauty and deceit in one area, much like being in a white room, peaceful but
lonely. It was raining and Jason couldn’t help but stare, as if it took all his
attention and looked up. The stars were bright, and those looking back felt
empty as his eyes fluttered, almost like Jason knew exactly how the stars felt.
Eleven years old and being pulled from side to side, it is never easy. He was
small for his age, his hair was a mess and his skin was a smooth reflection of
the night sky. Although, one thing that everyone noticed was his piercing blue
eyes that could drown anyone in his way. If anything, that is what made him
stand out from the others, even when he hated it.
While the night was calm the tension around him was high, each of
Jason's arms were being pulled from side to side. Taking every thought he had
and at that moment, he was what some would call drained. It's not easy when
someone tells another to pick a side, no matter what, a bias will be formed,
and telling someone that they are worse is greater than death itself. It shows
no matter what, or how long they tried, it was for nothing in the end.
However, what if there was no bias? Jason sure did understand this concept
well, for someone so young his mind was greater than both parents combined.
This is what made him feel so lonely, nobody understood what he was
thinking. Four days ago, he was in school solving quadratics and explaining

limitations. Bright he was, but it only made things worse, he was left to bear
greater responsibility, logic. Years back, he could correctly assume his
presents from the way his parents acted. If they were sitting, this was
something small, and not from the list. Standing it was big, and most likely on
the list, as they were excited to see my reaction. One thing he loved was
reading, it was something he could escape and be devoured in. Each book he
read was pure fantasy, Jason was abscessed about the idea of a good ending.
He thought if his life was this bad, then why not create a world where it was
perfect. Things would fit, line correctly to his expectations. Although,
eventually, his right arm got lighter and it seemed his mother was gone.
“Fine leave than see who cares, you’re a coward” Jason's father was a
mess, and yelling made it worse. He was tall, round with a scruffy face and
tan skin. You could tell that he was not the best father by his appearance, the
ripped pants, and bruised knuckles from late nights out. Jason knew in his gut
this would end poorly, and he was never wrong.
It took one year before his father was a deadbeat to society. He lived
in a poor neighborhood, with countless gunshots blasting, and the car alarms
exploding. Jason's room was made of one mattress and a dresser that, by the
looks of it, was there since before they moved in. He had a low selection of
clothes, and the apartment was smaller than the park outside. While that
sounds normal, this park had one swing, a tree, and a slide falling to pieces.
He would often help his father in paying rent through scheming, how to get a
job, it seemed his father had more illegal ideals. So instead of doing
multiplication or walking the dog, he would make plans for robberies and
each one more dangerous than the other. One day, his father had made too
many holes inside one of the planes. Mistakes were made and had decided to
wing the operation. The school where Jason had been going for years had
called him from his studies to the front office, which was annoying because
he had just reached the best part of the book, when Atticus Finch was talking
in his defense. Jason related to Atticus in many ways, intelligence, morals,
but the one thing he knew was his courage. So when the principal calls him to
the office, and leaves him with, what looked like, two businessmen. Jason
understood his father was on trial here and courage is of utmost importance.

As he prepared the speech in his head, how his father was at home all night,
they began to explain the situation. This time Jason heard something different
than the other times, “arrest”, “robbery”, or the most confusing “our sincerest
apologies”. Why would these men be apologizing, was it because he was
alone, or was it that his father was in prison? This was different, no one has
ever apologized, for the first time Jason was at a loss. Unless, he thought,
something worse happened.
My father was never arrested.
It took seconds before Jason was in tears, he was stubborn but he
couldn’t hold it anymore. Fountains left his eyes and pushed the coins at the
bottom up, as there was no more luck in this water. The two men had walked
Jason outside towards their car, each step felt different. Would it be wrong to
say he was released? Jason was confused why each step was minutes long,
but each one made a difference. Maybe because the officers who were
holding him weren’t pulling side to side. One was holding his shoulder the
other was in front guiding the way. He wondered if anything were going to be
the same, would his mother magically appear and take him to this perfect life
with a big house, a dog, and a family? It would be perfect, but perfection is a
made-up word, and so are his thoughts. The car door opened and Jason sat
inside thinking about what type of world he would make. Every now and
again the men's conversation would zone in, “there's a place you can stay for
a bit, just out town”. Still, he wondered about this place, was it beautiful and
colorful, surrounded by trees and flowers. What about if it was run down and
dirty, much like his apartment he would never return back to. The car kept

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