My first published masterpiece.
The First Three Notebooks is what I spent a year and a half pouring my soul into. It is a story that revolves around 3 young boys. This is a snippet from their life. They are triplets with special abilities. SIGHT, SPOKEN, and SOUND battle through their own disabilities and also a dark family history.
Here is a piece of the action:
They say eyes are the windows of the soul, that you must speak the truth, that the sound of the ocean is a magical one.
I cannot see as you can. I see the future and the past but never the present. My name is Sight. I am the eldest of the “Skilled Triplets”.
I cannot talk as you can. My words are not comprehended by the human race but animals and ghosts can hold a conversation with me. My name is Spoken. I am the middle child of the “Enchanted Trio”.
I cannot hear as you can. The words and sounds of other beings go unheard. I only hear the steady ticking of the clocks, the buzz of the universe, and I can zone in on individual people’s heartbeats. My name is Sound. I am the youngest of the “Special Threesome”.
We are brothers. We are triplets. We each experience the world differently but can cooperate just fine. We are just three boys missing something but gifted with another. We are skilled, enchanted and special, even if we don’t feel like we are.
My sons are special. They know me as Daddy but technically, I’m not their father. My wife and I adopted them just as they opened their eyes for the very first time. It’s strange how they have never realized it or, if they have, have never brought it up.
My first son, Sight, has long, naturally dirty blond hair that covers most of his face. He won’t leave the house without his beanie. There are bandages covering his eyes, this was his choice. I think he does this to keep people from staring at his eyes. They are blood red around the irises and have that glazed over look that characterizes blind people.
My second son, Spoken, has shaggy brown hair. It’s not as long as Sight’s but it’s still pretty long. He wears a thick scarf covering his mouth. If you got him to remove the scarf, you would see a wide grin on his face, a contradiction to the tears constantly running down his cheeks.
My last son, Sound, has short black hair. I would say it is about an inch or two long. He doesn’t let anything get to him. He is always smiling. He puts headphones in his ears so people don’t realize that he is deaf. I have never seen this boy cry. He always has a positive attitude and keeps his brothers going.
They may be triplets, but they have grown into completely different people, inside and out.
Sight. Spoken. Sound. Their names are not ones I chose. I would have given them normal ones. They sort of came with their names. Sight’s name is tattooed next to his left eye, Spoken’s name is tattooed on his tongue, and Sound’s name is tattooed on his right ear. I don’t know why anyone would tattoo an infant but they did. I wonder why the boys never asked about the tattoos.
-Jeffrey Entry 1
I am Sight. When they say that eyes are the windows to the soul it saddens me. I have useless, damaged eyes. Does that mean my soul is damaged? Does that make my soul evil? Does it mean I have no soul? Does it make me the devil’s son? I hope not, I really hope not!
I see things. Strange things. Some are bad and some are good. Some of them have happened. Some are yet to come. I have seen the death of the Mayans. I have seen the creation of the Pyramids. I have seen my own birth. I have seen the countries of the world becoming one. I have seen chaos. I have seen WW III and WW IV. I have seen the destruction of our planet. I have not seen – against all circumstances – a good ending for our race, but I know that when the “Gods” come after we all die that they will start the world over and try again. Just like they did many, many years ago.
What I really want to tell you about is a dream I have been having. In this dream, a dictator runs America. He controls the entire Western Hemisphere. He has close-cropped hair and gray eyes. He smells of Old Spice with a hint of decay. This is a world where zombies are real and vampires are upper class. Not vampires like the bloodthirsty demons, but vampires like cold-blooded baby killers. Not zombies like the undead, but mindless followers of the government. I am not alive in my dream, but my brothers are. I see a lack of sunlight everywhere. It is like a never ending night, gray and sad like the world knows what’s happening. Perhaps it does. Perhaps mother Earth knows how her children feel and reflect our feeling onto the world. Okay back on topic.
I only see a glimpse of the dream but when I dream it I wake in a cold sweat. I shake in bed trying to forget, but knowing that it will be true for my curse is eternal, and what I see always is.
-Sight Entry 1
I am Spoken. Nobody understands me. Nobody except the animals and ghosts. I am labeled as a mute and a freak. I talk to animals because they are my friends and the only creatures in this dimension that will listen. I always have had a lot of things to say but my listeners can’t do much. I share my thoughts, ideas, and feelings. I have many theories about God, aliens, people, and almost everything else. What I want to tell you about is my theory of the government.
The USA has a powerful government. I think they are trying to control the world. Based on the amount of power the government already has it might start a war. Everyone, I think, that dares to go against the government will be made a fool, imprisoned, or killed. Remember Newton and everyone else who went against the general public? They were all laughed at, killed, or imprisoned.
The government keeps information from us. The quote “Knowledge Is Power” is not complete. With knowledge comes potential power. Its not what you know that gives you power, its what you do with the information that you have.
My animal friends believe me. They say I should write a book full of my theories. I disagree with them. If I write a book everyone will know what I think then the government will know. If the government knows they will do something. I will end up looking like a fool, a dreamer, or a loon. They may even kill me. I don’t want to die yet. I’m depressed but not suicidal. Not yet anyway.
-Spoken Entry 1
I am Sound. I only hear clocks, the buzz of the world, and the rhythmic beating of the heart. Tick, tick, tick. Time actually is something. It wasn’t created, it was always there. Time passes. Time passed before there was a word to define it. Time is a force that should not be taken for granted. Humans learned to capture time and they count on it. Time is natural, but clocks just enclose it, make it physical. Time keeps things orderly.
The world sounds funny. It’s a steady buzz. A hum that is eternal. That is what the monks hear when they mediate. When I don’t hear tick, tock that is what I hear.
I am the calmest and happiest member in my family. The sound of the world is distracting and relaxing. It helps calm me and removes all stress.
I learned sign language when I was still very young. I only use it at home, but at school, I mostly keep to myself. I can’t hear your words but I can read your lips and feel the vibrations of your voice. If too many people talk at once I get confused and can’t understand anything. I love when Mommy sings lullabies to me. I don’t know what she sounds like but her sound waves are calming.
Sometimes, I hear things, not real things but conversations that are between two people who are not here. One conversation went like this:
“Mathew how is the plan coming along?”
“Very well sir. We have the nuclear bombs in place. The warning goes off in 5 minutes”.
‘Perfect. I’m glad you’re willing to die for my leadership.”
“Die? What do you mean die”?
“Your knowledge of this is dangerous…” Then a gunshot is heard.
The conversations scare me so I try not to pay too much attention to them.
-Sound Entry 1
you can order my book online at amazon.com
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