Patrick turned the book over in his hands several times. He knew he should put it back and just leave the shop. But the old man had pointed out that the answers he was looking for could be found in any number of books in here. That he would find an answer to the strange things that he had been picking up on.

He knew this was just another step. Like learning that the monster under the bed was real that things were so much scarier than what the Priest preached about every Sunday about vices people had. If they only knew. He couldn’t explain when it had started. But he had begun to notice shadows and other darker things. Demons were real. He knew that now.

And this book in his hands might be able to help him. Suddenly he stops and turns to watch the old man. He’s working behind the counter and Patrick can see that there’s more to the old man than meets the eye. Stomach grows cold as if someone put a block of ice in there. He watches the old man then begins to run his fingers over the books then finds one. Old and beaten up but somehow it calls to him. Hums in his senses and it startles Patrick because before today he only thought that churches could hum or other old laces that had experienced much. He always had thought it was his imagination anyways but he suddenly needs that book. He knows it has exactly what he needs so he picks it up and for a moment his hands feel very warm and he ignores it as he goes to pay for it.

The old man blinks and looks closely at Patrick.

“You can’t turn back once you start reading this son,” the old man says carefully.

Patrick blinks and nods. “I know. But I have to find out what it all really means.”

The old man chuckles and nods. “Just be careful. No dealing with demons son. You’d get yourself hurt.”

“I…think I always knew that. But thank you sir. I think I’ll be back.” He smiles honestly and leaves.

He won’t recall the trip for three weeks. When he does he will wonder just who he had really bought that book from. Then notice that for once his hands don’t hurt as much after taking notes and writing for hours. He wonders if that trip will one day be what undoes him. Then he decides to finally hunt down that book in his room. Time to find out what he really knows and what he needs to learn.

He couldn’t help himself. Every time he thought someone needed him he felt better. The depression that had taken hold over him would go away. He felt better and would do anything to help them.

Then it would be over. Just like that and suddenly the feeling of being useless would return. He would find himself sulking away. It was pretty bad some days how much he needed to be needed but to him it was like an addiction knowing that he could make a difference even if it was a small one but when it ended the cycle started over again.

Was he sick? Oh yes. But as the saying goes; old habits die hard.

If he had to pick one thing that brought wonder to his life he couldn’t. If he had to pick two, three, or four he would find it difficult. But seven was a wonderfully simple number to pick things that brought him true wonder. Or even moments in fact.

One is ‘The Day’ as he likes to think of it. The Day before he lost what had mattered so much. It wasn’t the whole day that was stuck in his mind. It was the hour between the late afternoon and dusk. He had gone for a walk with a simple camera trying to find something with real color in it. He had decided that the long hours and days his Mother spent with nothing from the out side world had to be fixed. Then he came upon the lake and found himself staring at it for what seemed like a very long time only it really wasn’t. He ended up taking a few pictures then laughing when a mother duck passed by with four small fuzzy ducklings. For some reason that moment always sticks out in his mind and gives him comfort.

Another is the time he was dragged out of his bed by his older cousin. He was told to get dressed quickly. Shivering Patrick did what he was told. It was so cold he had no idea why anyone would want to be up when it was so cold. He was simply pulled along and then stopped right in front of the wide picture window and the boy stared at the cold wintery landscape. He found himself amazed by the snow, ice, and trees of northern Vermont. He was even more amazed that he could see so far and that he could see even further off the mountains cutting through the puffy white clouds. Then he ended up grinning when one of the taller boys handed him a mug of hot chocolate. Patrick was barely six at the time but he can still remember that.

There was one family trip he can’t quite forget. The first time he saw an ocean up close. The water was so blue and dark with white caps coming up off of it. A few sea gulls could be seen puttering around on the beach. Patrick ended up zooming off ahead to get right in that water. He could hear his parents laughing as they set their things down. Patrick dove right in then came back yelping and hiding because at seven he knew how embarrassing loosing his swimming trunks in the ocean could be. He’s still shocked he didn’t die of embarrassment that day.

Another wonder he can’t forget came shortly after his Mother died. He had barely been capable of holding it together the first few days. He let his uncles drag him out to get a few better fitting suit. He let his aunts’ fuss when he felt it was fine because sometimes he could barely move without someone reminding him he had to do things. Everything was so bleak for him. Then right after the funeral his older cousin Nathan appeared in the room he had retreated to. His other slightly younger cousin had been there trying to get him to talk about brighter things. Nathan had simply shook his head then pulled Patrick to his feet ordering him to go for a walk. They walked allover and kept up with it when the skies opened up over them. Patrick closed his eyes and kept walking. When they returned there was more fussing and Patrick looked out a window as his father rubbed a towel over his shoulders. It seemed to him that yes, the heavens could mourn as well.

His best wonder was when he found out he could go to the high school he wanted to. He had applied and gone to an interview. The teacher who had gone over it had teased him over the very impressive grades and Patrick had flushed. His father though brightly encouraged Patrick afterwards. There had been a note of pride there. Other teachers kept quietly encouraging Patrick. But that day was the first day the often subdued young man had ever cheered in the middle of the hall way. He had immediately hugged the first person who got within ‘striking’ distance and jumped about like a cat on catnip. He couldn’t wait to tell everyone. Wouldn’t they be so pleased?

Patrick was fussing in the kitchen again. His mother was in the living room doing one of her dialysis treatments while he was cooking. She peered out then ended up smiling at him then ordered him to get a chair for her. He blinked at her then did so as she wheeled her IV pole over and sat to help instruct him. She sat and adjusted the tubes before telling him to calm down. Slowly she instructed him on the dish he was making her words and voice were so reassuring for him. He didn’t understand why but at twelve years old he needed to know how to cook. Especially when no one else but him had the time or energy but after the dish was prepared and in the oven he felt a sense of awe. He had done it himself! Okay so his Mother had helped with her words but still!

His dog Zion; Patrick can’t get over how much he has come to rely on that dog. The wiry looking bull dog has become his companion as home and around the town. Sometimes he thinks that Zion is more than just a dog. At other times he thinks that his dog is just really silly but most of the time Patrick wonders where he would be without the dog that knows just when he needs someone there. But there is often an odd sense of wonder when Patrick turns and sees that dog watching him with a very knowing look.

The seven virtues are not something that Patrick has ever put importance in. His family regularly attends a Roman Catholic Church. In fact he never even heard of the seven virtues until he was forced to read Romeo and Juliet. He had nearly snorted out loud in class then ended up thinking about them on his own.

Chastity doesn’t have to mean being pure in body. He often has worked towards being pure in other ways too. Heck even though he is attracted to girls he just can’t bring himself to do more than smile at them. Besides the fact he swears far too much. He thinks that even if he was interested that his filthy mouth would make the good ones walk away. So he’ll work on being truly chaste for the good ones maybe someday he can meet one.

Temperance seemed to him like such an old word. But the meaning behind it was one to think about. Self-control is a thing he carefully works towards every day. He used to get picked on a lot when he was younger because of how strongly he reacted. But now it is harder to get him to react in a passionate way. He even works on doing all things in moderation. Sometimes he wonders if he should relax but then he thinks on how cruel people were in the past and he gives up on giving himself any room for mistakes. They will not hurt him again.

Charity is a thing he is honestly ashamed of. Not for others because he is always willing to help someone if he can. But he gets very upset if people try helping him. He thinks others are so much more deserving of help. Of course they are. They are far more important than him. Help them first damn it he can wait. He can wait as long as it takes as long as everyone is ok.

Diligence is one word to really go into how hard Patrick works. He keeps pushing to be the best. His work is never good enough and he can’t ease up on it. He isn’t good at working with others because he finds their work just isn’t good enough for what he wants. He can’t explain what he wants either. If he keeps working maybe one day he can tell someone why it’s just never really good enough.

Patience was something Patrick lived off of for a year. He prayed every day and did everything he could. He had hope that if he waited long enough everything would be fine. Then he had to have the patience to wait after he began to accept what was going to happen to his Mother. He was patience with her when her madness cropped up and she spoke of things that just weren’t there. He was also patience on every ride to go see her. He kept hope alive for that year. He even made things for her in case she could ever leave. He learned to count the change of seasons from the waiting room and learned to smile when she thought he was someone else. He learned to clamp down on bitter laughter when she was convinced she had to kill people when before she was sick she was a nurse. Waiting for someone who means so much to pass away so they’re no longer suffering takes far too much patience and Patrick learned that a year is far too short.

Kindness is a thing he has seen every day. So many people have been trying to help him. They try so hard to make him smile and forget what has happened. He can also see how they really want to help. He thinks that maybe one day he can accept their kindness without wanting to be angry. He was angry for such a long time maybe now he can accept some kindness. He needs to hear them tell him that he will be ok on days when everything seems that much more difficult an when he feels like he is drowning in a sea of people with no way to find himself. He has seen people kind enough to help him stay afloat.

Humility is a thing Patrick does not wish to feel but he does. He just looks at everyone else then feels very small. They look so strong to him and every time he looks in a mirror he sees someone weak. So he fights to be strong and wonders if it is a loosing battle. All he sees in himself is weakness. He has caught himself giving into the overwhelming sadness and sees it as weak. He doesn’t mind being weak. Everyone he has met is so much stronger than him. He wants to be strong as well. Maybe someday he can be like them.

Patrick has a list of five movies he needs to watch again for various reasons. He looks it over every week to see if he has actually watched any of them recently.. He tries to watch at least one movie a week.

Today is the day to review his list.

Shindler’s List is a good pick. But he needs to be sure he has a long period to keep open just for that. It’s a movie he had to watch once because his Mother was annoyed they stopped showing it at his school. He can still recall being disgusted when that elderly man was killed with a snow shovel near the beginning of the film.

Highlander 2: the Quickening is just a very fun film. He was always a big fan of the series. And he learned a big thing; he really wouldn’t want to live forever. That and Sean Connery just kicks total ass. For this afternoon Mr. Connery is Patrick’s personal Jesus.

Dragonheart is another movie that is up there. He likes dragons and finds the idea of knight not being perfect is just totally awesome. It didn’t hurt that when it came out he saw it with his best friend and a few other kick ass people. Sometimes Patrick finds that he wishes he was a knight but at other times he wants to be a good man and he can freely admit that the movie has a nice blending of both.

Donnie Darko is another he should watch again. He really can’t help that he likes it. The music is great, the plot is awesome, there’s something new every time he sees it too. Only problem is that it hasn’t come out on his Earth yet. The Nexus clearly gave him a gift. He really can’t wait to see it in a theater.

And James Bond or Indiana Jones movie. For crying ut loud any of them are just awesome. Anyone who says otherwise is clearly on something.

How did it happen, him in Vermont? To put it simply his Grandfather wanted him there. Not his father’s father but his mother’s father. A man that Patrick couldn’t bring himself to care about but he had little choice in the matter when his father agreed to send him up to visit. Patrick had been very angry over it but had calmed down after the long trip up there. The trip was one that Patrick couldn’t avid. One of his aunts drove him up there then went to visit his other Aunt across the river in New Hampshire. He was told he might see that aunt too at some point if he wanted to.

Of course he would have been happier if he had someone to act as a buffer between him and Grandpa Don, that of course hadn’t happened, it almost felt like getting abandoned to the wolves when his aunt drove away. He found though that his Grandfather’s cabin was fascinating. Little pieces of local history scattered around hanging from various pegs on the walls caught his attention. But the bits and pieces of things from Don’ hunting trips bothered Patrick. The eyes of two large deer heads seemed to follow him as he was reintroduced to the rather spacious cabin. Patrick didn’t want to spend the few days hunting due to the image the rather life-like eyes put in his active mind. There was a good thing though Don couldn’t take him hunting this time around due to the fact Patrick had never used a gun before. So Don had another idea. He would teach his surly acting grandson about guns and how to safely use them. Patrick wasn’t very happy about it but after a while began to accept things.

Finally the day before he had to go home he asked his grandfather a question he needed an answer to, “How come you and Uncle Merton came but—But why didn’t anyone else? God damn it grandpa! We needed, I needed Uncle Glen. Why didn’t he come? If I’ve learned anything from this…family is family. We turn to each other for support. We could have really used their help.”

The old man that Patrick just didn’t understand at all blinked at his grandson’s out burst. Then he sighed and shook his head. “It wasn’t right but he couldn’t deal with your Mother’s death. Brenda. Well you know boy. She was damn special and your Uncle drinks too much. And watch your mouth goddamn it. Don’t swear like that.”

Patrick blinked at his grandfather a few times to hold back any hurt he was feeling at the moment and also the sudden urge to laugh. He might not like his grandfather but they could get along especially when Patrick needed someone who could tell the truth rather simply. Maybe next time he won’t cringe so much at being shipped off to see his grandfather. He’ll just make sure to keep the TV turned off so they can stay on topics that won’t end in bull headed arguments. Not that anything like that had occurred Patrick just wanted to avoid arguing with his family. He might not agree with what they think or say but a small part of him loves them all and is just barely desperate for actual contact with them. Heck maybe next time they’ll even go hunting together sure, he might not like the idea of killing furry woodland creatures but oddly the quite while hunting just doesn’t seem like a bad thing.

Maybe he can talk to his Dad about his Uncle Glen latter that is if he can open up at all about his feelings. He might respect his Father but talking to the man can be very hard to do.

If Patrick had to pick one book that had changed his life he really couldn’t. Sure he loved reading and writing but there wasn’t a single book that had really changed his life. He did have books though that he seriously can’t imagine not reading. Even if the knowledge gained hadn’t always made things easier on him.

First that came to mind was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. it had been a gift from his father along with a giant stack of white paper. Both had gotten him through the first few days of trying to deal with the fact his mother was gone and wasn’t going to come back no matter how much he wished he could wave a wand like Harry.

The second book was 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Vern, it wasn’t special in any way it just happened that he liked it. Something about the idea of a man like Nemo appealed to Patrick. Even if he would never let himself become like Nemo.

One book that always gets tossed at him in one form or another is the Bible. He has no idea what to think about it on a personal level. But the new priest, Father Ray, calls it God’s love letter. Patrick wishes God wrote love letters in an easier to understand kind of way but then has to hand it to the priest, it was a good idea calling the Bible a collection of love letters. That way people really don’t have to be so literal about how they read the good book. Then again he has no idea what to think about God. He has plenty of reasons to be angry at God and sometimes wonders if faith is worth it. But he figures he’ll just try reading the Bible more. Maybe someday he’ll get the answers he really wants. Devine inspiration or whatever.

The fourth book isn’t exactly a book but more of a series of books. Comic books anyways. He can’t help it but ever since that weird adventure involving Jason Todd, alien abductions, and the Nexus well, he can’t stop reading. Lately he wonders if he should go back into martial arts. Not because of Jason or the Nexus but because when he went back to his comic books he found himself so impressed by Batman, Nightwing, and Batgirl. He even wonders if he should exercise more often besides that. After all his Earth may not need a Batman but they always need someone willing to do what it takes to help the public. So he can admit his inspiration to be someone comes from them.

Finally he comes to this. The book that made him understand what was making his mother sick. Or at least bits and pieces of what made her sick. It was a text book on psychology he had snagged from a cousin of his that summer. He had flipped through it then got to a chapter that talked about neurology. It had been interesting with the diagrams and the terms that took him a minute to understand but when he did it just hurt him a bit more and made him put the damn book away for good.

This is the product of a life. Not just any life but a collection. Bits and pieces torn off from other lives and balled up together to create one big jumbled mess. There is breaking of genders and names, sometimes even towns and cities. But there are true things here. Just as true as any other story about any other person that could be real. He has problems like anyone else. Sometimes he thinks that he has so many that he might as well dress in black, paint his finger nails the same color and then sing really sad stupid songs But he won’t do that because he firmly believes that just as the sun rises and sets that somehow things will get better he thinks that him being sad is just him being a teenager and he thinks that most teenagers really are stupid. He just hopes he can find a way to kick or beat the stupid out of himself before he ends up dressing in black and listening to music he doesn’t really like.

His name is Patrick Madonna and his life isn’t very different from any other life. His life is pretty much normal. He has a Father, an older brother, and up until very recently he had a Mother too. His family is very important to him. He puts them all first. Insult any single one of them and he will do everything possible to defend them and make the other person feel like a little worm. He is just as protective of his friends but tends to let them stand up for themselves. Family is different for him though. He’ll blindly defend them even if there is a fault that he knows very well is there and god forbid anyone say anything bad about Patrick’s Mother.

She was a very good woman. Not perfect but still a very good, kind, loving person that most would be proud to say they knew. Patrick just cannot tolerate anyone saying anything wrong about her. Not right now anyways. For him the grief is still far too raw. He can’t even look at his brother without wanting to just scream or cry. Patrick thinks it is a good thing he and his brother couldn’t stand each other before now. They used to fight a lot before their Mother had to go to the hospital that last and final time. Now Patrick wonders if he did anything wrong. His brother disappears into the bowls of his room, which Patrick thinks looks more like a better lit Batcave, and barely comes out for anything.

Patrick’s Father is very different from his sons. He is older of course and wiser when it comes to the world. He manages a store and works long hard hours. He tries to be home at an exact time that his fully grown son and young teenaged son can expect. He is very good at hiding that he is still deeply grieving for his wife. He knew for longer than both boys that his wife and their mother wasn’t coming home. He acts like their rock and source of strength. For his strength he finds it in hours of labor. His hands are large from moving and carrying things. His legs are rather strong too, just from racing across the store. Patrick has noticed that and likes to think his Dad is a super hero. He ca just imagine his father shouting something along the lines of, “SUPERMANAGER SMASH!” And watching as his father knocks something over at a high speed. But really, Patrick’s Father is just a man who tries his best. He would likely roll his eyes at his younger son’s thoughts and tell him to go clean his room or ask if supper is done seeing as Patrick took over all the cooking after his Mother got too sick to cook. Patrick isn’t a great cook but he can do all of the awesome Italian dishes that his father likes so that’s really all that matters of course.
Right now Patrick is thinking a lot about school too. He just started high school. Of course he has no idea how to cope with the wide range of people. Where he attended middle school people didn’t dress like they did in high school. Sometimes he feels like a pervert just because of what the girls are wearing. And he feels like he’s from another time period because of how he chooses to dress. But now he’s getting into the swing of things. The only problem he has is getting close to people. He’s the new guy. Other students know each other. He transferred in and isn’t at all popular with other students who went to the same school. He thinks it’s because he’s so very much a geek. But it really doesn’t bother him. He’ll just keep doing his work. He figures that someday he’ll meet someone that he can be friends with.

Eventually he does make friends. Older students take him under their wing and introduce him around. Others offer to talk because they see him as a kicked puppy who just needs someone to listen. And he isn’t used to this at all. Not yet. He gets in trouble sometimes for swearing in class then just ends up blushing and talking like the perfect little gentleman all day right after that. Sometimes he ends up blushing and embarrassed anyway because he finds getting to know people can be difficult. He thinks it’s because if he tells them the truth they won’t believe him at all that his life is a lie and he can’t stand being called a liar so he decides to keep some things private. It does make him feel weird. Hopefully he can find a way to get over his hang ups otherwise he’s going to have a very lonely school year.


End part 1.

EDIT: I really would like some feed back. So I'll be linking this in my main non-role playing journal. So feel free to tear it apart. This is basicly a rough draft guys. I'll be doing more over a period of time. But this hear is just under a thousand words of work that I'm willing to have poked apart. :D