It started with random sketches on notebooks, trying to drown out the noise of the teacher droning on about so math equation too complicated to understand.
The marked exam papers right in front of him—he barely turned a page. The red F on the top already had him leaning against his palm in a sigh.
He doodled and drew; the final year of high school. Drawings of objects from the gas he’d play, characters from the shows he’d watch.
The school bell rang as Jotou clicked the pen. Eyebags, hair barely kept together and running on three hours of sleep; nothing different, just another day.
Waking up, sleep deprived, going to classes only to fail and be pressured even more to do better, only to realize none of the information is being absorbed.
Try and try again till there’s no ti for sleep. Waking up, sleep deprived, going to classes only to fail- This cycle, again and again and again.
Jotou grew more careless, taking a misstep down the stairs, walking into doors or poles before waking up fully, nearly falling asleep while driving.
A pain in the neck from sleeping haphazardly, forgetting half the conversations he had, like life was just passing by at the speed of light and trying to rember any mont felt cloudy.
Jotou tore up the exam sheets, marked again with a failure. He tossed it in the trash as he walked out of class—alone he walked.
He stopped and sighed, "How am I gonna tell mom and dad...? Finals are coming up soon and I haven’t shown a single paper since the start of the year.
Whatever, I’ll just tell them I got a B minus. I should go draw sothing to take my mind off of it. Maybe I’ll call Daiyu or Crispy later."
Jotou looked up at a booth set up, promoting university applications. The counsellors had set up posters and banners whilst so students helped pass flyers around.
"Oh hey!" a cheery girl in glasses and light brown hair, stepped up to Jotou, standing a little shorter than him. "Are you interested in applying?" she handed a pamphlet.
"I think I’ll have to at so point," Jotou took it.
"Oh, what’re you gonna apply for? I can help with so recomndations."
"Well... probably physics, if it didn’t have all the math... Chemistry? Nah, organic chemistry is too much. Philosophy sounds, fun," Jotou unfolded the flyer.
"Ooo, what’re you aiming for after a philosophy major?"
Jotou narrowed his eyes, "I... I haven’t thought about it much. What job does a philosophy major get you?"
"Uhm, I’m not actually sure. We can go ask Mrs Bowman, but Jotou don’t you have like a, goal? A dream job?"
"Oh, you know ? I’m sorry, I can’t rember-"
"Oh, no, we haven’t actually t," the girl shook her head in reassurance, "Most of the school knows of you, you’re always alone."
’Yeah, that makes feel a lot better...’ "Yeah, I just, like to be alone, ya know?"
"Oh, I didn’t an it in a bad way, just how I know you; I’m Alex. I rember you in the big debate last year in school; you were scarily good. With how aggressive you were, I always thought you’d be a lawyer."
’I think that was because the other guy was so wrong it was ridiculous...’ "Yeah, I don’t think I’d make a good lawyer," Jotou laughed off. "Anyway, a dream job..."
’A job for a dream... Wait, what actually is my goal...? What do I hope to accomplish with my life?
All I’ve done for so, many, years, is study and wake up and stress about this and that, for what? To study for more years for a major?
And then what? To get a job and work all day and night till my limbs drop so I can do it again...? Like a mindless zombie?
I... There’s no way I can live like this... I can’t be living in the sa cycle over and over for the rest of my life... I want to do sothing. I just, want to be happy and not, tired.
Damn... When’s the last ti I got nine hours of sleep? What did I even study today in classes? What am I doing with my life? I’m gonna go mad if I spend another day like this... I have to change sothing.’
_
For weeks after graduation, Jotou sat in his room, sketching and drawing, practicing and practicing till those weeks turned months, months turned to years.
Now, in his room sat a tablet to draw, drawing commissions from people sticky noted to the table and many of his digital drawings collaged together on his laptop background.
He was not raking it in by any ans, but it was slowly growing and the money he earned, he saved up. He’d be able to join friends with his computer to hang out and talk—he’d barely leave his room.
To Jotou, this was already a greater step than what he had done for years since a child. However, he was not sitting in his room. Jotou walked in through the doors of his house.
"Jotou-"
"No. You’ve already asked a thousand tis before, what makes you think my answer’s any different? I have a job I’m working on, okay? Stop it with this. That’s your dream not mine," Jotou had already prepared a response.
His mother holding out yet another university letter, ones he did not even apply for. She furrowed her brows, "But Jotou, look at all these programs.
They don’t need too many credits and you can go study whatever you want. You can go study your digital art thing if you want."
"I don’t want to study! How is that so hard to understand!? I don’t want to waste my life away in stress, tests and exams. I’d rather enjoy my life so I don’t regret it when I die. I get it, I’m a burden."
She shook her head, "You’re not a burden Jotou... All your friends are nearly finishing their studies, even your cousin-"
"I know all you care about is showing off like I’m perfect and by extension you and dad. Why don’t you two go get a shiny trophy instead? ’Worst and most abusive parents’. That should do it," Jotou stord upstairs.
Jotou shut his room door in a sigh—taking off his face mask and putting his bag of snacks on his table. "You’ll move out soon Jotou, you’ll move out soon. Then you can finally be rid of them."
"Brrr..." Jotou’s phone buzzed. He opened it up.
’Ga night tonight?’ a text from Crispy sent out.
’Yes.’ Ramond replied.
’Sure. Got so ti, just finished an assignnt.’ Kaleb texted.
"Definitely," Jotou typed in, plugging the charger into the phone. He checked the date, two hours before midnight on the 8th of January.
"Oh, tomorrow’s my birthday. I’ll be twenty... Twenty years I’ve survived, hmph," Jotou grinned to the ceiling. "Well, I’ve got a few hours before ga night; guess I’ll work on so commissions."
_
An hour and a half passed, Jotou sitting at his desk. He took a break to watch so videos while he snacked- "SMASH!"
"What the!?" Jotou jolted up from his seat.
"SMASH!" His room door was busted open with a few kicks. Jotou got up and rushed to the door, eyes wide to his dad busting open his door.
"What- what are you doing!?"
His dad held the walls, barely able to stand up. "Wha- What are... you going to do? Huh? Answer ... What do you wanna go study...?"
Jotou squinted, nose wrinkling at the scent, "Oh great... You’re drunk again. Go to bed, you don’t know what you’re saying and won’t rember what I said," Jotou sighed, feeling his heartbeat settle.
"SMASH!"
"HEY! Stop hitting the door!"
"Answer !"
"Nothing! I don’t want to study! Now get out of my room."
"You’re such a waste of space... So fucking worthless... What’s the point of raising you, huh? Such a useless son. All the work I did for you to turn out a FULL disappointnt," drunkenly the words slurred.
Jotou’s heartrate spiked... his brows knitted and eyes began to water, "Go the hell away," Jotou panted, a little whimper in his voice as he tried to close the door.
He barged open the door again. "Jotou!?" Another voice as his mom appeared, "Honey, what are you doing!?"
"He’s drunk mom," Jotou wiped away the tears.
"Look at him crying like a little girl. Why did we even have him?" his dad kept slurring as his mom tried to push him away.
"Well," Jotou gulped, glaring, "I always had a feeling both of you were lying. Now I know how you actually feel; I’m a burden," his teeth grinned as he sniffled.
"Jotou, he’s drunk. And this is your fault Jotou! If you had just picked a college already! Go inside! Lock your room!" his mom pushed his father down the stairs.
Only more tears went down Jotou’s eyes, "The room was already locked. Guess it doesn’t matter. Thanks mom. Truly, I have the best parents in the world," Jotou shut the door in a slam.
Jotou sniffled, the smile faltering as his lips wriggled. He closed his eyes, beginning to breathe heavily... then to whimper and cry as he fell onto his pillow.
He could feel his gut wrenching as he gripped his fists. "I didn’t ask to be born..." he whimpered. Minutes felt like hours, sobbing and crying.
Every mory of being hit by them, every mory of the stress, the guilt he knew they never felt... One by one... Just one bad day...
"What’s my life...? I’m stuck... I, I, don’t want to go back to being mindless... I don’t want to live like this... Why does life hate so much!? I just, I can’t take it anymore..."
Scissors—sharp blades. Jotou looked at them, "I don’t care anymore... It’s just easier from this torture of a life..."
Seconds, minutes, who cared... It all felt like one mont... that mont where nothing mattered. "Brrr..." Jotou noticed his phone screen light up.
He panted, moving the scissors away slowly... He opened up his screen...
’Guys, what ga?’
’Idk, just choose sothing.’
’Kaleb, you let Ramond choose? Oh boy...’
’LOL. Rip in pieces.’
Jotou’s eyes softened... he breathed... "What am I doing...?" Jotou muttered to himself, the sudden sense of sorrow faded. "I, no, this is dumb, what am I doing?" Jotou put the scissors aside.
Jotou breathed, opening up a bottle of water to drink. He sat down at his desk, just, breathing in and out... "Think Jotou... You gotta think...
Your dad’s drunk. I hate them, but they’re still my parents. Your friends, you have them. So many things you can work on. Tomorrow can be better Jotou... Tomorrow can change."
Jotou sighed, looking to the ceiling, a soft smile, "Almost got there... Can’t get rid of so easily life," Jotou shook his head, "Throw hell at , I’ll still stand.
Alright. I’ll take a break for today. Just so fun with friends and tomorrow we can deal with the commissions. I can also start looking up housing prices. Oh yeah, there’s also..."
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