cedric, district seven (fin)

PROPERTY OF:
c e d r i c
this is my journal
k e e p o u t

- - - -

my first memory

I remember I was going to the dentist for my half-year check-up, and my dad was poking a stick with a mirror at the end in my mouth to see all my teeth. "You know, Son, one day you'll be doing this." I shuddered. Even at a young age, I knew I didn't want to be working in a sterile place where I drill people's teeth and hand our free toothbrushes. I wanted to be an explorer when I was little. I still do. I want to go everywhere. I want to see oceans as flat as deserts and buildings that reach clouds. I was sick of seeing trees and small houses and busy streets and dentist equipment. "You need to take better care of your teeth, Son, you got a cavity," I didn't know what a cavity was. I didn't really care, either. I like candy. "Lay off the sweets."

- - - -

my older brother

He is already gone, living off with some blond girl, who I have to admit is hot. I feel bad for her because he disrespects her, and he gets drunk a lot and I see red marks and bruises on her arms. I guess she's happy though, or just really scared. She probably doesn't want to know what will happen when and if she leaves. I hope she does. She deserves better. She works at a bar but that doesn't mean she's a drunk. My brother cuts down trees and then ships them to companies that need them. His name is Curtis, which is almost like mine, Cedric. I hate my brother, and I did ever since I was a kid. He is five years older than me and always beat me up and I did nothing. I was and am to weak to defend myself.

- - - -

my eight birthday

It was at some game place that had like, three arcade games, a ball-pit, and a tube system. I was up in the tubes and I saw a boy kiss a girl on the cheek. That was the first time I ever saw someone so young kiss. I got out of the tubes and my brother was kissing his girl-friend he bought on the cheek, too. I was jealous because I never kissed anyone before. I should get a kiss from someone because it was my birthday, and I don't think my mom counts. No one ever kissed me yet. I don't care. Well, family members don't count.

- - - -

my crush

Her name is Annabelle. I don't talk to her a lot. We both make puppet shows together. I have a crush on her. I wish I'd talk to her but I am too shy. She is very pretty and I would never carve her any differently. She is beautiful. Maybe she thinks the same things about me.

Maybe.

- - - -

school

I am somewhat of a loner at school. I have my puppet friends at lunch - some of them - but I don't have them in all of my classes. And I wouldn't sit with any of them, anyways. I don't talk to them first, they talk to me.

Most of the time.

If it is someone I trust a lot I talk to them first. If it is someone who I don't like, I wait for them to talk to me. Or we just don't talk. If I like the person I don't talk to her ever, I just nod my head and point and stuff.

Most of the time.

- - - -

what my dad tells me

"You should be a dentist."
"You know, Son, you can't make a living off of carving puppets."
"Being a dentist gives you good pay, Son."
"Carving puppets your whole life won't get you any women."

I hate him.

- - - -

my mom

She is kind of just... there. She's like me, we speak only when we need to, and we don't speak when we shouldn't. We're like air, there and not there at the same time. My mom agrees with my dad but not really. She just kind of nods her head when he speaks about what I should be when I get older and then doesn't say anything. I like her and all, more than my dad, but I wish she'd defend me. She is a housewife so she shouldn't be talking. I hate her, too. Just not as much as Dad.

- - - -

when i first joined the puppetmasters

"Hey, you're good at art, aren't you?" I nodded my head. And then they asked me to be the carver and I said "Okay," and then that was that. I carve the puppets and that's all. If they are girls it's harder to carve them because of hair and breasts. If they are guys, it is easy. I like carving because it is one thing I'm good at, even if my dad disagrees.

- - - -

my mom and my brother's girlfriend

One time my brother was drunk (like a few years ago) and he hit my mom. "Shut up you bitch!" he yelled at her and then I heard him strike her on the cheek. She had a red mark there for a week. He hits his girlfriend, too. I hate my brother I guess. I don't like anyone I'm related to. I feel bad for my mom. She is so under spoken but she is still kind.

- - - -

a call

One time my brother's girlfriend called me.
"Curtis isn't here," I told her.
"I don't want to talk to him." she said matter-of-factly.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
And the rest of the conversation went like this.
Her: He hits me.
Me: I know.
Her: ...
Me: I'm sorry.
Her: Me too.
Me: Why don't you do anything about it?
Her: ...
Me: I'm sorry.
Her: You already said that.
Me: Sorry.
Her: Bye, Cedric.
Me: Bye.

I guess I might have a little crush on her, too. A little one.

- - - -

when i carve

Whenever I stick that knife at a piece of dry wood and am shaping a nose or ear, I feel like everything in my past is washed away. I just feel like my dad's comments and brother's abuse and my awkwardness is gone and I can just be me for once. I like it because I can focus on the puppet - the present - and I like being focused on something I care about. I know I'm not a wooden puppet like all the dolls I've created because even though my dad tries to shape me to his perfect image, I'm not chipping.

- - - -

some secrets of mine

I am a shy kid. I almost never make my own conversations, I let others do it.

Most of the time.

I don't stand up for myself if someone makes fun of me. If I am called a nerd or geek I ignore it or whatever. I let it go through one ear and out another.

Always.

I can cook. I mean, I can only make cake or brownies or cookies or cupcakes, and not actual dishes like marinated chicken or good tasting pasta. I guess I don't want to, anyways, because they don't taste as good as brownies.

I am scared of bees but am not allergic.

Most of my dreams take place in a dentist office and my father is cutting my whole mouth open.

Most of my dreams.

- - - -

a photo of me

Here is a picture of me in case all the other pictures of me in the world get destroyed except for this one:


My mom says my brown hair is so adorable, but I dislike it. It is too much like my brother's. My green eyes are just so, blah. They have almost no emotion, but I don't care. Your eyes are not really the window to your soul. My nose looks like any other nose and is dotted with freckles. My lips are thin and pink and my voice is low. I have (I guess) muscular arms and legs, but I don't really consider them as ripped like some kids. I don't care, though. My stomach is flat, and I have good posture. I have careful and fast and thin fingers and fat toes. My big toes are smaller than the ones next to them.

I am not clumsy. My feet are stable and I can control them. My shoulders are not sloping, they are broad and wide. My neck isn't very long, and my collar-bone is hiding somewhere underneath my skin. I have almost translucent skin, and my freckles are very prominent against the whiteness. I used to get really bad acne but not anymore. I like my small ears and curly ears and bushy eyebrows but I dislike my teeth. I have a lot of cavities and I used to have braces but they aren't that bad.

But they aren't very good, either.

I have rough hands and rough feet, but I don't care.

Most of the time.





odair




I still need colors and stuff. I also don't know his last name. He is sixteen and part of Stare's plot. Thanks.