Sex?

Chapter 41

I was home looking through my stuff in my room, grazing the tops of the light brown furnisher, gazing at the carpet beneath my feet and the comfortable bed in the middle of my room.

My mom was at work, my brother was probably with some friends in the neighborhood, so I was alone at home.

Not really doing anything, I just stood over my bed observing the way it was neatly made by my mom, looking at the perfectness of the flowerful blanket and the cushions that were evenly fluffed.

The thought of my mother having made it made me sigh.

I should probably stop being mad at her.

I should probably stop ignoring her and start talking to her again.

I sighed again and this time sat down on the side of the bed, the mattress underneath me sinking further.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with no intention of doing anything of the particular, my gaze wandered up. I looked at my shelves that sat on top of my dresser, the yellow light in this room bouncing off the light brown of the interior of the small cupboards. Looking over the slide door dresser, above it sat cupboards and so did cupboards sit there on the bottom, but my gaze found interesting the top shelves. Spotting the books that pressed against each other on the highest level of the tall furniture layout, I looked at the random papers sticking out of organizers, the diverse colors that were painted over the binders and books.

"Hmmm."

I stood up.

Curiosity and boredom spoke to me as something in me told me to look through these books.

Dragging my body towards the shelves, finding myself standing quickly in front of the dresser that only had a small gap of space between the bed, I began to draw books out and then back into their place.

This quickly became a routine. Sighing as it continued from one book to the other, pulling them forward and then putting them back, not even knowing what I was looking for, I grew bored once more.

When I was about to give up on whatever search I got myself into, whatever pull that made me stand right here in this very spot to look through these books, I began turning around back towards my bed, my tired eyes finding no point in searching for something useless, a book fell onto my head.

"Oww," I groaned as I rubbed my head.

Looking up to see what had hit me, seeing only the books standing up on their own in the glowing light of this room in contrast to the maple furniture that felt like was now hovering over me, I then looked down to the carpeted floor, rubbing my head all the while. That's when I saw a green little notebook placed on the floor. So perfectly still as if it had always been there, papers coming out of the edges, I could see the different colors and parts of the book were scraped out even if it was laying back flat against the carpet, only seeing the top color, green.

The book looked familiar.

Curiously, I picked it up.

Sitting back onto my bed, bed flopping beneath me, now with the book in hand, I found a comfortable position, criss-cross applesauce. Scotching my bottom against the bed, satisfied, I then placed the new book in hand and opened the book to a random page.

The page was a light green, barely attached to the notebook as a part of it flopped completely out of its socket, nothing was written on it.

I shrugged, turning the pages, seeing small doodles and drawing, but they were all scattered. Some pages blank yet teared, some papers completely colored in.

I wondered who's book it was.

I continued flipping through the pages, this becoming a pattern, I layed down on my back, flopping down as the pillows fluffed underneath my weight, sparkling alongside me.

I hummed in confusion and wonder, looking to one page to another, becoming a routine.

My arms were up as I held the book above my head, turning my head side to side along the flip of the pages, pink, blue, green, blank, colored, scribble, I hummed along this pattern.

"One lollipop, two lollipop," I sang out load as I turned the pages.

I have no idea what that was, I guess I'm making a random song up?

"Fish and chips, la la la,"

The fuck am I saying?

Yet I continued humming, saying random words as my eyes scanned the pages of this torn up notebook, my lips parting as I sang and precisely made my tongue bounce on the roof of my mouth when singing la. Even though I was doing it unconsciously, just doing it, my whisper of confused judgment subsided.

Until I finally got bored, I sighed, setting the book down beside me and looked up at the ceiling, arms relaxed as I set them down beside me as well.

Looking at the ceiling, noticing the chipped paint and the stars my parents had put up there when I was a kid, I began to grow sad once more and my bubble of nonchalant happiness popped.

Wondering why I was singing so randomly like a little kid, I haven't done that in forever, I guess I've been blocking myself from doing that.
But why did I start doing it now? I was singing randomly a song when I was walking home and now I am doing it again. Why?

Something in me told me it was the book and at that, I snapped my head toward my left, spotting the book below me. Looking below, glancing at the mysterious book, squinting my eyes in suspicion, I quickly grew wary of the object, judging its presence.

I sat up in another snap, quickly picking the book up by the hand, only grabbing the tips as if it were a diaper and scrunched my nose in disgust. The drawer beside my bed was my chosen destination for this book. I looked over it, ready to place it inside the drawer by my bed, my eyes were wide in dedication to hide this thing, as if this book was evil or a treasure to be feared.

In the interior of the desk now, giving it one last look, I closed the drawer, the green book vanishing from sight as the drawer shut closed.

Lying back down, my body was uncomfortable as I stared up at the ceiling, tense from not knowing, wondering about the book, wanting to look at it once more, but I knew I shouldn't, so I just looked up, eyes wide.

Continuing my confusion, I fell asleep.