Jacob

Jacob pushed the white door open so hard that the hinges cried as if to let go the margins of the wall. He found himself in a icy cold room and immediately plastered his eyes on what appeared to be his sister, Mage. Her body laid still on a hospital bed big enough for her adjust her body as much as she pleased. He thought it was his sister because of the same shiny yellow pigtails that seem to grow out of what appeared to be her head. If only she was only a tad bit careful, then we would not be in this predicament right now. Serves her right the stupid bitch for being the favorite all these years, it finally caught up to her. Jacob looked at the body, or what was left of it, meticulously looking for any other indications that it could be his sister. His eyes followed the deranged outline of the body unto what clearly was a foot, although missing the pinkie toe and seemed to be smothered with puss literally dripping out of every punctured wound on it. There on the middle toe was a mood ring colored now black. The corners of Jacobs mouth slowly curved upward as he recalled that black meant feelings of struggling. Although a trifling fact, Jacob exuberated in victory, she was finally dead.

It all started when they were kids. Jacob was a overly-sized water melon, with a robust forehead that under the sun permanently shadowed the lower half of his face and diagnosed with a minor case of OCD. His skin was olive colored and even at the age of only 12 was already hairy as a neglected 55 yr old bum on the streets of Waikiki. Jacob had hair all over except his head, where he could have used it the most, only consisting of sporadic patches of hair like weeds growing in dead soil. Jacob was teased constantly. He assumed the title as Sunnyvale's elementary's Neanderthal. "Hey neanderthal!!!," a student would bicker out, and Jacob replied as he always did, he would cock his head back and shout the words fuck you loud enough to be heard by the perpetrator but not enough to alarm the teachers. Whenever the words would escape Jacobs mouth, a relief came over him as if he re payed his favor for every single little bastard that ever dared to tease him. Mage was his sister, a immaculate living moving statue sculpted by the Gods themselves. Her skin was naturally tanned to a perfection, a task deemed impossible because of the sun that never revealed its face there. Mage had eyes that never stayed the same color, always changing like the mood ring she wore on her middle toe. As if by coincidence, her eyes changed accordingly to what she wore, so she was always in style. She was the envy of every prepubescent girl at Sunnyvale's elementary. Jacob and Mage were complete opposites, and were often questioned by their classmates how they could have came from the same parents. Every time the question arose they would answer in succession, "Yes of course we have the same parents." But Jacob knew the truth that was kept from him all these years. When he was 7 years old his mother, Alice, sent him up the attic to tidy up, that was the year Uncle Ralph would come to live with them after spending 3 years in prison for allegedly raping a 12 year old girl at the school he taught. Jacob pushed the dusty infested bed that was covered with a green tinged sheet of silk that clinged to the bed,to the other side of the pentagon shaped room to compensate for the small room. As he adjusted the bed, he found a dusty red wooden box. He dusted it off and found his name engraved on it. On the side of the box was a lock that held 6 slots, much like a modern a modern day lock. "What the fuck is this, some sort of joke?" he blunted out to himself. Jacob twisted the dials on the lock to 1,2,3,4,5,6, and pulled at it, it didn't work. Again he tried and failed. Then he thought he would try his birthday 0,4,1,4,8,7, it worked. He pried the lock off and rummaged through the papers that were in it. In a enclosed yellow envelope he found his birth certificate.

Jacob M. Marshalls, born 04/14/87
Honolulu, Hawaii
To the parents of Luke and Samantha Marshalls.

MARSHALLS, the words flared out to him like a tiger sensing the fresh still beating heart of its prey. Marshalls. He was stuck on the word. The very sound of the word felt familiar to him, but he was afraid. Not of his parents finding out that he knew, but afraid of what else he didn't know. He knew all along there was some void in his life. This was it. He was not the child that Alice and Paul loved, adored, and conceived; he was adopted. Being adopted didn't strike him as hard as most of the other children he saw when they found out. He didn't cry, run to his parents and complain, or leave, he just accepted it.