The Empty Book

I strive to none, for none is my strife, yet what a man needs to seek for the most, is himself. 

"Be careful of what you are seeking, not all knowledge is worth knowing"

This was the only sentence I had from the only book that I have. You are not obliged to carry on reading, but know this, my family left me unsheltered and my only hope to find them is that book, that black empty book.

Why did they leave me? Why me? Why you? Just why?

It's not my fault being left, that what was my uncle saying to me whenever I try to ask him, like I'm the only who's supposed to not know the truth.

" go and read your books" that's all he had to say

But how I am supposed to read empty pages, or was it my fate? To be filled with nothing except emptiness.

So I was just beside the window, holding my book, reading other books and solving puzzles Where all children were playing outside. I was just watching, not allowed to go out, But forced by my uncle to keep learning if I want to find the truth, as if I am asked to find it, but never answered when asking...

I tend to leave, none cantankerous, yet none grateful. Life, I realise, is a melancholic trance of eternity. Where others are meant to laugh, others are meant to cry, and I am here, within me, lost in between, insane, unwelcomed hated and scared. Therefore, truth be told, by the world that was nothing but a word. You found freedom. Loosing all hope is your freedom. 

Joseph looks so much like his mother, 

He is smart, good in choosing words, but too weak to handle what happened. I promised my sister, before her last breath, to look after him and hide the truth, but didn't promise to stop him from seeking what he deserves to know. I can't see him again going for suicide, he barely could breath the last time I saved him from hanging him self. I must say, now before anything else, that I failed. 

My uncle, the man who caused me this, not letting me live, nor letting me die. I was never saved, but only taught to hate more, first my family, then my self, and now my uncle, but never hated the book; and if ever the empty black pages referred to something, it must be my future, all empty and dark...

One morning, I asked Joseph to come and have breakfast, yet there was no response. It was the first time since his first accident. 

I hurried up to his room, crying, hopping to not see my nightmare becoming a truth, yet the view was too awful for words to describe. I felt for a moment, all the pain of eternity at once. I was just siting down crying, telling him please wake up, and for the first time in his life, he refused to listen...

" and what is the cause of death " said the officer. 

" not knowing the truth, sir" I replied.

But, that wasn't the truth about Joseph, he actually died after getting his very most desire. 

It was all written in a black book, written by blood, but the writing faded away quickly, and only one sentence remained "Be careful of what you are seeking, not all knowledge is worth knowing"

I don't know from where he got it, but I am desperate to know the truth. I must know it even if it means my death.