Forgotten pages

The Legacy Of Jonathan Joestar

It took a whole two years to rebuild the old mansion ground up and the only thing left to do was move the contents of the attic.Another heavy trunk was pushed away to be dealt with later. In the cobweb-infested corner a little box sat in front of him,canvases stacked vertically like plates.The young face of his mother was easy to pick out but the painting underneath portrayed a much less recognizable face.His thumbs gently traced circles on the sides of the canvas.Despite them never meeting he knew who it was,those eyes,that jaw,wide eyes all dead ringers to his identity.

The artist had made sure to capture the light,Jonathan's dark hair appearing to simultaneously reflect both brown and a dark blue.The blue was most likely an artist's creative liberty but it was appreciated,it made him seem regal.His eyes appeared the only soft feature on him.Their vivid color appeared almost unnatural.He briefly wondered if his had the same quality.As opposed to his mother's calm and content expression Jonathan's was more joyful,a clear and boyish smile playing at his lips.He pitied his father,it must've hurt to keep an expression like that for so long,yet he didn't look the slightest bit pained.It was natural.

The next frame was one of his parents together.They were young and happy in each other's arms,with joy in their eyes.It was good to see them so carefree.Where else than in the past could they be seen so happy together?That was the cruelty of fate.One would die young and the other would be left in the wake.His heart latched onto the thought that they had a lot of moments like that,when they were happy.it was a ray o f hope that his mother could at least remember the good times.God they were young,neither of them couldn't have been over twenty-or-so.He himself was seventeen,what if he suffered the same fate?His jaw clenched at the thought.He wouldn't let himself die like that,his future family deserved better.They would have better.

The last painting was of a woman that was truly a stranger to him.It was much older than the ones before,the oil paint had begun to fade and yellow ever so slightly.The woman was a brunette with her hair elegantly styled up and out of her face.She had the same kind of ethereally serine expression as in his mother's portrait but she seemed more sullen.Yet still the question lingered,who was she?He carefully flipped it over in his hands.

"Mary Joestar."

He turned it back over to look at her face,his grandmother's face.Jonathan would occasionally mention her passing.Another dead parent,another child left with a broken family.

Footsteps sounded behind as someone approached.His mother knelt down beside him,eyes fixed on the paintings.She picked up the one with her and Jonathan.He fingers clutched it carefully,acting as if it were a piece of the most fragile glass ever made.

"I remember when we had these done."She smiled fondly."He'd just proposed to me and oh we were both so giddy back then,ready to rebuild the mansion and start a big family.We'd even set out plan on how we'd name our children.One named after his parents,an Italian name for Will,and then I would get to pick the rest."She sighed.

"What do you think it would've been like if he were still with us?"

Her eyes cast up to the ceiling."You would have grown up in a mansion for one,overrun with children no doubt.He would have made a great father."She turned to look her son in the eyes."And he would've loved you so much."Her voice was thick with emotion as tears misted over her eyes.She remained calm throughout though."I actually have something of his for you,it's not anything big or impressive but I think he'd want you to have it."She looked around before standing to shift boxes away."It should still be here."

He felt a weight sink into his stomach.

"It may have gotten moved somewhere.It was an old oak chest,half charred.With the initials J-"