January 9th by Jason Tru, Jason Tru (read me like a book txt) 📖

'' I wonder what happened to him... '' Caleb's mind circled the day's events. As he layed in his bed, his hands rose to his head, as he brushed the short hair, once more. He kept looking at the empty space between his eyes and the ceiling; it was as if he was staring at the ceiling, but not, so, it settled in the middle vision, while everything else went out of focus. He then used his right hand to rest and grip the ruffles of the bed sheet, pulling himself up, sitting with his legs crossed. The thoughts in his mind just left his body in awe, for his mind was in another place. He kept questioning to if or not he was okay, and what happened. He left before anything ended, which was the reason to his worries. He had no idea to what took place, after he left. He soon started to be angry with himself, and swear at himself in his mind, blaming everything on him, because, he ignored and never stopped Blake or said anything. It's not that he didn't want to or tried to; because, he did. His mind was blown into different areas in the actual events, to if or not he should help or just watch or leave. He was still scared of helping August, and to what other people would think. He didn't want the target of August to be placed on him, or have them think that he 'helps' a fag. The way that August was treated in general, scared Caleb so much. It was too much for him. He cared and wanted to help, but this was just not helping.

'' Caleb? Are you coming down? Dinner's ready. '', Michael questioned at the door, noticing that something was on Caleb's mind. '' Sure, I'll be there soon. '', Caleb replied, in a questionable tone, as he hopped off of the bed and pulled the fabric, making the surface of the bed, smooth again. He walked in heavy, clanking footsteps to the bathroom. He yawned and stretched, and pulled the zipper of his pants, down, and rolled his head back, with closed eyes, as he started to urinate. His dad just stood at the door for a moment, listening, and thinking to himself. Since Caleb got home, he's been acting suspicious, like if he killed someone or something. It just wasn't like Caleb, and this worried him. '' Something's wrong. Caleb's never spaced out like this... '' he mumbles to himself, folding up the sleeves of his light green, undershirt that he wears for his work suit. He just looked at the door for a moment more, then nodded his head, thinking that it was nothing, and he probably just had it in his mind. As he shoves his weight on the door, to lightly push off and leave, Caleb opened it, having him nearly fall. '' What the; dad? '', Caleb questions in  a shocking/confusing way. '' Yes? '', '' Were you there the entire time? '', '' Oh, no. I just came up to get you and... '', '' And, what? You just decided to sniff my door? Haha '', '' Sure, let's say that. Haha. '', they both burst into laughter. '' But, your mother has dinner ready. We should get going. '', he softly reminds, gesturing to the stairs. Caleb nodded and followed, laughing still, lightly along with his dad.

'' Well, you two seem to be in quite a delightful mood. '', Beth teases, while sweeping the floor. '' Ah, I guess. '', Michael noted, patting Caleb's shoulder. They all sat by their table and began on their meal, after Michael's prayer. '' So, how was your day, Michael? '', Beth weakly started the dinner conversation, digging the spikes of her fork into little strips of chicken that was served with the noodles she made. '' Oh, it was alright. They're talking about a strike again, and I can't really deal with that, though, '' he follows, '' I'm really not into the striking and fighting. ''. '' Well, you know what you have to do. Striking is an ungodly thing; you just stay away. For instance, for me, today, I fell asleep and had a dream. The dream was very well, actually, but, around the middle of the dream, there was a gay person. Ugh. '', she put her fork down, twisting her face. '' I enjoyed the dream, but as soon as that happened, I forced myself awake. God, it's like, you can't get away from them these days. '', she'd end, picking up her fork, giggling a bit, as she picked up another strip of chicken, twirling it with the wet noodles, '' And, you should see her. She had a shaved head and a drawn-on beard. ''. They both chuckled a bit, having Caleb awkwardly laugh along, as sweat visibly runs down his forehead. He didn't know if they knew August, or had any idea of him. He surely, at this point, didn't want them to know that he talked to him. '' Haha, a shaved head? '', Caleb tries to relate. '' Yes! '', Beth bursted into laughter. '' But, gay girls are bad as well? '', Caleb questioned, quickly eating his dinner, faster, realising what he'd just asked. The entire dinner table paused, and quietude went rampant. Caleb just froze with his fork to his mouth, and his jaw opened, in the motion of eating. He slowly moved the fork away, back to the plate. '' What happened? '', he questioned, looking at both of them, having them stare directly back.

'' Caleb, all gays are bad. '' Beth stated in a soft, rude-intended voice, tilting her head. '' What kind of question is that? '', she continued, sitting back. '' Oh, I don't know. It was just a question. '', he tries to save himself. '' Caleb, you shouldn't be asking that question. You were raised in the church of God, and you should know to yourself that all gays are bad and should be put to death or forgotten. They're nasty people. They really don't deserve anything. '', she went on. '' Alright, alright. It's just a question, Beth. He probably meant it as a joke. '' Michael stepped in. '' A joke? Was it a joke, Caleb? '', she asked, in more of a light way. '' Ah, sure. It was a joke. Haha, you thought that I was serious. '', he played along, laughing lightly. '' Well, you shouldn't be joking about things like this, alright? This is a serious thing. '', she finished, looking at him for over a minute, before smiling and turning into laughter as well. '' Now, finish your dinner. '', she joked, as they all went back into their dinners.

After dinner, Caleb took all the dishes and toted them to the sink, scraping the excess leftovers into a little bowl, that's used to give stray dogs in the village. He then lightly rinsed the dishes and trotted up to his room.

'' Jeez, that was interesting. '', Caleb sighed, taking off his shirt as he dove his face into his pillows. After a while, Caleb rose and sat by the wall, pulling his feet to his chest, with his blanket over him. He couldn't sleep, and, his mind just won't go to rest on the subject. Time past, while still sitting in the same position. The room grew rather warm, for some reason, which pushed Caleb to just throw the blank et on the floor. After a few more minutes, Caleb just climbed off of the bed and walked around his room, searching in the dark for his backpack. He roughly pulled out a little grey-brown book which was his diary, and a pen, from the bag and followed the light of his window. He always keeps a diary, and, writes in it at the end of every day, specifically. Since he started, to now, he's never missed a day. It's just a way for him to get things out and to be more aware of stuff. He never really questioned himself, to why he keeps it, but, he just does. It's his unconscious habit that's stuck.

The window creeks softly, while being pushed open. Caleb climbed out, gripping his feet on the roof, before reaching his arms on a long tree branch that reaches from his house to the other. He uses it as a safety object, so that he doesn't fall, when he comes out at night, to sit there and have his time alone from everyone. The tree barely moves when he's on it, showing the strength. The tree's an old tree that's been there for years, before he was even born. Him and his friends, as a kid, used to climb from the bottom, to the top, playing and carving their names into it, making little houses, everything possible, that a kid could think to do with a tree. Caleb slowly took his book out of his baggy pajama pant's pocket, resting it on the little branch, as he lifted his right leg up, crossing it on the tree, acting like a table. His mind then went at ease, as the cold wind of the night blew on his semi-sweaty back, and through the small strokes of his short hair, for, he was in his own place of comfort. It was as if he didn't feel comfortable much, in that moment, in his room or 'their' house.

The sharp clinking of an object was heard, having him take notice, in half his writing. He ignored and continued his notes to his diary. As the wind blew once more, he heard it again, sounding like a wind charm, and then breathing or laughing, with it. At this point, he was quite concerned, and wanted to know where it came from. He then hooked the edge of the pen on the diary, shoving it back in his pocket as a treasure, and straightened his back, looking around for this noise. His eyes squinted, trying to see through the cool, thick blue light of the night, and the little flying gnats that formed little circles in the air. His eyes focused on a tiny glare. As he further looked, he saw the form of someone, sitting on their windowsill, their back facing him, and playing with a charm bracelet. Caleb automatically knocked himself back, nearly screaming out loud and falling off, for, he never had anyone with him on his tree or his little rooftop, hideaway. He slipped off of the branch, kneeling on the roof, as low as he could, as he kept staring, trying to figure out who this person was. It looked weird, and he just doesn't recall anyone like that.  '' Oh, the new neighbours! '', he exclaimed in a whispery tone, having the person, notice and turn around. Caleb just hung onto the branch, and went even lower, under vision. He stayed there for a bit, listening to hear a movement of some sort, but didn't. After a few minutes, his arms couldn't take it much more, so he pulled himself up, hooking his leg on the branch, his book nearly falling, once more. With a flick of movement, he tossed the book inside, and looked back to see if the person was still there.