UNTOLD

1 PIECE OF JOURNAL

Very often after listening to Mama Arnold stories I found myself sitting up alone on my laid down clothes at night wondering if I could get someone to tell more stories about us, we the Patterson's. Even asking my parents the sound of their put me off that they wouldn't talk they keep saying

"Till tomorrow June", tomorrow, tomorrow,since minutes,hours,days, weeks,month,and years of them saying tomorrow they never make attempt to tell me what we are about.

I was thinking about all this when I heard rattling sound, has silent has everything the rattling sound is becoming disturbing.

" What could that be?" I asked knowing fully no one but me is awake, I stood up gently and grabbing my old worn out touch I found in the trash can few days ago, its so worn out that it had to be smacked severally before its could flicker on, with it in my hand I direction it to where the sound comes from but nothing was there only piles of tattered clothes are there.

Squeak! squeak!! It comes again, then it down on me that the noise are coming from those stupid rats that have not even respect for the owner of the house, I tried going back to my laid down clothes I called mattress then my eyes caught the rat dragging something looks like paper or sheet of hold journal from the hole with itself, looks like he got stucked in it and trying all possible best to pull it out, I walked up to it with a baton in my hand and hit it on it until I could see that no life was remain in it.

"Good lord knows today is your end, that why you make so much noise to get my attention" I said to myself with satisfying looks on my face

I pulled out the note that looks like journal and scrutinized it but couldn't get or assimilate what's written in it, with the ways it was torn someone can easily decipher that particular page was torn out of the original pieces of the book and the ink used in writing whatever in that piece was fading off, looks like it was written years ago based on the picture inscribed down in it looks ancient.

Folding that sheets into half, at the bottom line of the pieces came bold and italics written our family name "Patterson" seeing that moved my curiosity the more.

Maybe this is just it or this just of one those numerous pages that doesn't add more minus to anything.

Dipped it down in my chest pocket with the hope of checking out whatever is written in tomorrow.

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Getting up this morning is a blessing but it wasn't a total blessings for the Patterson's as waking up every morning means you gat to work your ass around the whole town of Orlando sell some gifts to the tourist people before you can get to put anything in your mouth, not selling means no food that's what we were taught by parents even the Mama Arnold of our family sit outside to sell old paper to people who used it for daily things, morning things and even those used to package their products.

Coming out of what we called "don't be shy and enter together or be shy and wait for eternal" most people living in Orlando surely understand that when you says that because two-thirds of people lives just like I was, dressed up with a final touch, no mirror to check but I know I could make a pass for fashion Nova.

"June make sure you sells enough gifts if you ever want to have something to eat tonight" shouted Mrs Margaret Patterson my shouted behind me

" I wouldn't force them to buy ma" I yelled back

" Try to pull out some long sleeve today and see" she snorted

"You guess right" I said, but I thought I got that from you.

I realized this might be the door if escape I had been desperately waiting for and dashed out into the street quickly, can't stay to hear more of her, surely know she won't let me have it peaceful always with a long lash out of words.

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The wind howled around, twisting and turning itself around, flaunting the dust and dirt creating a fashionable design on the ground, enjoying it play as it used it's power to chase people around, helping people to close up their doors and window, I hurriedly for a shelter and tucked my shirt properly into my jean as I rumbled my hand into my chest pocket finding the journal that has make me sleepless all the night, unfolding it came crashing the word I saw yesterday night display itself boldly as if to taunt me."Patterson" the word ringed in my heart, am I a Patterson.

The only thing the pieces of journal display was a letter written by only God knows

"The dark cloud invading and surrounding the sun that was to shine on Patterson's will never be able descend, as their sun rays has been blurry and it will never touch the sky but remain hidden in darkness where it was kept.

Article 1.1.2 of the sacred journal should be referred to if this half moon cut was found by any Patterson's generation, this journal will be the guidance for you on how to come across the hidden journal of how everything started and who to put and end to it if possible ..

But whoever found it should know Patterson has alot to uncover and it is a death toll on if it should be dig deeper as the eyes of the oaks is sharper.

Reading this I don't even understand a stance but I knew something is up in the Patterson's closet I had to find out, this piece of journal can gives answer if shown to Mama Arnold.

June Patterson is my name and Patterson is where I came and originate from but just knew something is off that nobody is saying or telling everybody cause of everyone is afraid of the oaks eyes the writer referred to..

Who is the oak eyes by the way.