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Andrew sat at the edge of his bed.  He stared, hard, at the notebook in his hands.

Dark purple, worn and torn from years of use.  The pages were ripped, some popping out from the sides.  Stickers, notes, and scribbles adorned the front of it.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring.

He thought about asking the lord for mercy, but no amount of mercy could help him now.

Biting back the tears that dared to sting the sides of his eyes, he carefully opened the notebook.

The pages crackled, and the smell was crisp.

‘Jacob’s AWESOME JOURNAL!!’

—-

It was 5 in the morning now.  He stayed up reading every, single, damn word in that journal.  He made sure to savor the moment.  Not to miss a single one.

He didn’t bother holding back his sobs at this point, but made sure not to stain the book.

He curled in on himself, his bed sheets crinkling under his shaking form.

There was one part he didn’t read, though.  It wasn’t his business.

—-

“Actually, I wanted to give you something.” Andrew said, his tone laced with sadness.

Doom tilted his head.  “Yeah?  What is it?”

Andrew carefully pulled out a notebook from the shelf.  He handed it to Doom with tired eyes.

“I know you two didn’t leave off on a good note but… Just trust me.”

Doom took the notebook, in disgusted shock.  Was this a fucking joke?

Andrew softly placed his hand on one of Doom’s.  Doom’s fingers twitched.

“Please, just read it.  He’d want you to have it.” Andrew gave one last plea.  He sounded desperate.

The two of them snapped their heads around when they heard a call from afar.

“I um- Guess it’s my cue to leave.” Doom said awkwardly; though there was a small hint of bitterness.

“I suppose so.” Andrew said, his eyes glazed over.  “Thank you for coming over.  I hope to see you again soon.”

Doom nodded quickly, running off with the notebook in hand.

Andrew sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat.  He slumped, one hand clutching desperately onto his forehead.

—-

“So, what was this special gift he gave you?” Cobalt asked, giving a brief look over to Doom.

“Nothing.  Just some uh, money.” Doom said, his voice cold and bland.  He didn’t return Cobalt’s gaze, instead looking out of the window.

Cobalt shrugged, and continued driving.

—-

Doom stood idly at the edge of his bed, staring at the notebook in front of him.

He wanted to burn it.  He wanted to burn it so fucking bad.

But, Andrew told him to read it, and Cobalt and Marion were out on last minute shopping.  Lucky him.

He gulped, slowly opening to the first page of the notebook.  He read it carefully.

And, as he read, he began to notice something.  A slow descent into madness.  One that bloomed like a flower.

Except the flower was ugly.  And rotten.  And wilted.

He now saw more corners to his father than he thought of before.  His life.  His relationships.  His mother.

God, he hated that woman more than ever now.

Not as if he didn’t hate his father either, but it just made so much sense now.

It was hard to read, in all honesty.  To see his thoughts and perspectives.  Doom had to take breaks to try and recollect, but oddly enough, he found himself drawn to the writing.  He couldn’t just stop reading now.  He had to continue to uncover this long ago buried, tragic mystery.

Then, he came to the final page.  It was different.  It lacked any color, or any enthusiasm, like the passion was sucked out of the writer with a vaccum.  The handwriting was different.

‘Hello Doom.  I used to be better with my words, so I’ll try my best.  I’m sure you’ve read everything in this journal by now, so you know what happened.  I wanted to tell you that it was never your fault.  It’s too late to make amends now, we both know that, but I might as well get it out there.  I don’t think I meant anything I ever told you.  I was angry.  With myself, with Riya, with the world.  And I took it out on you.  I know I’m a monster, and there’s nothing I can do about it now.  I’ve left my mark on this world, and on you.  I wish I could have done it differently.  I’m so proud of you.  I bet you’re a strong young man, and I want you to be nothing less.  If it were under any different circumstances, I would’ve loved you with all my heart.  I’m sorry.

Love, Jacob Norman’

He didn’t even notice his tears muddying the page.  He began to feel tremors shoot through his whole body as the letter sank in.  It felt like a pit in his stomach.

He drops the book onto the bed.

He begins to shake, violently.  His previously open hands turn into fists.  He’s angry.  He’s sad.  He doesn’t know, and that scares him.

His knees give out, and he collapses onto the floor, his arms wrapped around each other tightly.  He could feel his nails digging into his skin.

At first, he tried to hold it back, but he didn’t care anymore.  He let violent, loud wails rip from his throat.  The pain was agonizing.

He tightly shut his eyes, hot tears streaming down his cheeks and pouring onto the sleek wooden floor. 

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