THE FAINT GLOW of mellow light that came through my open balcony doors, became even more brighter, the morning was shifting. Taking its turn upward, the long line of One too things I had got involved in. Involuntary, of course. My prime attention had been stolen and preserved to what just happened not nearly twelve hours ago.

  I had been buried in some surrealic story- which I'll admit, I was fascinated by it all. Keened in listening, it was quirky how I had just decided to not go through with my ginger plans of confining this creature and do what needed to be done instead I switched up like the readiness of a heart beat, sat down and listened, truth be told I was pondering and trying to understand this entire narrative, I guess

  It was strange how I pictured everything it said; the special gifted powers born to the lucky ones, were called Inbilities, the twelve realms that felt like they were basically just kingdoms, their 'Grand wicked battle of the centuries', the big deadly guy Getron Namikth, with his rare life force that undermined any creature in existence (I might have exaggerated that part a too much but you get where my attribution's coming from), their phenomenon but yet highly questionable way of choosing their so called trustworthy leaders, their little magic items that are essential pillars of their diverse kingdoms and is exactly where I'm found in all this as it's new catastrophe. gods, goddesses, Kings and Queens, judges, Suns, Daughters and Sons, Lords, the fallen kingdoms, cowards and crooks, the Rebellion, Magic who would have known it all existed, I mean the

  I had only ever read about it in books, watched a variety of mythical~ tale films, seen paintings and dafty photographed vidoes, but to face it right in reality Not some stupid Dream or Nightmare, Not even in my Imagination.This is why it felt like some folklore it was telling me.

  A mild sense of mine; very bewildering and controversial sense, that I had chosen to ignore as usual, felt, to be somewhat familiar, almost like I had heard them before. Just like the feel of water in your palm before it slips off and you remember it being there you're left with the sense that something was there, like a space that wasn't filled but you just feel that it was.

  I had been sitted in one position, quietly listening to it go on and on about it's world. When I looked at it; it's small filmsy figure, covered up in the darkest shade of gray, although it's fur moved about like it could be the color of a raven's feathers at times, it's large slightly tip falling ears faced at me, wiggled every time in every passing minute, it had on a fixed annoyance~ irritated look smeared across it's face, it was as if it was a permanent glow, like the inevitable rising of the sun and crashing of the night fall.

  What blended in were it's brows always forcing themselves to meet at each other, on it's little flat surfaced head, with it's raspberry pink button nose, its eyes were the most interesting I thought, in my perspective, they were the most prominent feature I fascinated over by a human being or creature of now- it had huge, quite the biggest eyes I had ever seen, the biggest feature it possesed on it's flat head; the color, it was deep violet with an element of flecks of amber in them, in its eyes I felt like it created for me a whole entire world to visualize in alignment with it's words, it actually gesticulated as it went on and on.

  I heard a little scoff in my throat, as it didn't seem so terrifying as before, although I didn't think I was afraid of it, only when it changed its size, it seemed to marvel me more than terrify. It shifted from it's small size to something that had semblanced to a large grizzly bear. How to react to that phenomenon.

  It was with No doubt, the craziest thing that had ever happened to me, although with it still around I was sure something more striking was going to top that. I know I wasn't forced to listen, I had a choice, and my choice was to find out just what had been dancing around in it's Not~ so invisible anymore strings right in front of me.

  Listening to it made me loose track of time, forgetting I was not apart of any of it, I could never be a part, I didn't want to be a part, all this bewildered craze was a part of my Grandfather that No one knew of, he's play in all this still seemed like it was another we were both referring to he was still just a terrible Dad and the Grandfather I didn't get to have.

  All I wanted at that point, was to have that face to face conversation he wrote about, I knew Dad would be even more furious with me to even think of seeing him, but now that circumstances were different; much harder to get to a conclusion on your own, and see what needed to be done to stop all this or presumably help? The message in that note, I did want to confront him just to confirm just what this creature was talking about, ask him about the watch, and a way to send that creature back to it's home.

  This was Not a way for any personal reasons in relation to his past with his family- his son, or to get to know the man that abandoned his own family or any intents of forgiving, although what for? The whole broken picture was between him and his son not Me, I wasn't even dreaming of coming in between that or mending things. My approach was specifically for one and only ONE cause, answers to this New Question.

  The very note he wrote me was laying down on the right side of my bed, I got up, and picked it up. I held the note in my hands, my fingers gently tracing his inked name on the paper infront of me, acknowledging that they was no address, if I was to ever trace him, which was suddenly a burning sensation that filled my gut, plunging my ears of ', I'd need an address. An address to his precise location, where the guile man had been hiding all this time, I was very curious to know in what had he preserved his guilty self in. I stroke a thought of how he managed to mail it here without an address, neither did that box it came with have one.

  ''Whar's thar you have there?'' The little monster inquired, peeking a distance away from my forearm.

  ''It's the note that came with that watch.'' I replied my voice so low, to be heard. He gave it to me as a which I convinced my self I'd never have or call it .

  ''Did Naijen write you thar?'' It asked, as it's upper features formed an arc.

  And I paused, it was hard for me to acknowledge that name, Naijen

  ''Whar does it say?'' It must have noticed by it's swift change.

  And I began, I read it aloud, word by word, normally but it seemed to be highlighting in my head as slow as possible, making its roots sink in deep in my mind, as I knew of now that it had found- a permanent residence in my thoughts. I couldn't help but ponder if he really wrote this. It felt like eternity to finish reading it all, it didn't have this much impact on me the first time I read it. After I was finished, it asked me a question that ricocheted in my head several of times.

  ''Why do you still allow your heart to deny, when he clearly wrote to you about all this.''

  I thank my odds I had an answer to that vibrant question. ''It would be better if we both found him, and just asked him about all this, we'd do our comparisons once we both saw him, I'm sure he'd have an answer to all the questions we both have, and above all. . .'' I faltered for seconds before continuing my tastless tone. ''He'd know just how to send you back home.''

  The words that I was uttering, felt sour in my mouth, bran and rotting, I hated to hear them, I hated to believe this narrative that my grandfather was a part of some mythical world, that in all those years he left he's family, sacrificing his dearest ones for some sort of cause was for the greater good if. I was to force myself to believe, he had an option to stay, give all that up and protect them or leave and use that as an excuse of protecting, when you really just failed to.

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  Perhaps I was unfair to judge him, I only knew half- No quarter of the truth, Dad's side, which was saying much, it was wrong of me to judge him administering on what I heard, it was just an instinct of mine to not believe entirely what came out of a human being's mouth, I only believed in two things that ran this upside~ down world, the and , in more formal terms, Honesty or deceit, the rest didn't matter to me, they actually took each side. I didn't know he's circumstances, maybe out of all that he wasn't in fact in the wrong, it was just one of my short lived assumptions, I could be wrong. My question was: Was I to believe him or condone it all?

  The creature said nothing. It was silent and so was I. The proximity of twenty six seconds before we heard a knock at my door disturbing the silence, my eyes drifted off to my alarm clock, it was almost eight, the person at my door was Rose~ Anne. I knew, she had come to have my room cleaned, she knew I got up around this time, because I'd be usually cleaning up myself to get down to have breakfast with Dad, and she'd be in to have it cleaned.

  I glanced around my room for long seconds, it was a huge mess; my bed covers were at one side, so were my pillows and sofa cushions on another side, my books the ones that I had taken out of my bag were scattered across the floor, pads of paper plastered everywhere, my bed looked like it had been attacked by a bear. Your first guess of what would have happened was; I had some reckless party in my room, or three naughty little five old kids somewhat vandalized my room.

  I looked at what was on my bed, that little monster.

  ''That's Rose~ Anne, she's here to clean my room, I suggest you hide out somewhere before she gets in, if she sees you, she might start asking me questions.'' I said edgy.

  ''Questions?'' It repeated baffledly.

  ''Yeah, like what the hell are you, or she'd be terrified of you, freaked out, you look like some animation that jumped out of my tv screen.''

  ''T. . V. . Sccrreen?'' It drawled in pronounciton.

  ''That thing on my wall.'' I pointed at my tv.

  ''No one but my Grandfather is to know about your existence. No one.'' I emphatically informed. ''I know you don't trust me, I don't blame you, after what happened yesterday but just believe me when I say my Dad doesn't take things lightly.'' I regarded an abased fiasco that happened yesterday with him. ''If you want to see another day do as I say, okay?''

  It didn't say anything, it's look on its little flat face, was it's infuriated one, its eyes looking much deeper, tell tale in it's movement as it just started to beat its foot on my bed while folding its arms, I knew it didn't want to listen to the guy who almost tried to end it not so long ago- - It began to mutter as it hopped at the edge of my bed.

  ''Some kid givin' Me! The Oldest Lordiranie, orders?!'' It pressed hard on that ' reference as it grumbled, words spilling out of it's tiny mouth like sharp blades.

  It bounced down my bed. I watched it, wondering where it was heading to. It stood still at the end of my bed, still whining, annoyingly still beating its little foot to the floor and folding its arms, a long dreadful sigh parted my lips as I heard her knock again, if it could only get over it's self and do what I said. I was offering it freedom not imprisionment, life, more days, I think to come, that is IF we didn't get caught, then the decision of it's life would be left in my Dad's hands and I couldn't do anything about it. It's back was to my view, I saw it's fuzzy poofy tail twitch about.

  My eyes, could have been seeing wrongly, I saw it reduce every second in that minute, until it was the size of a tiny mouse. It then squeaked off to under my bed. My mouth slightly opened, so it could do more than just maximize, and hop generously high, wasn't that refreshingly dangerous.

  I stared in awe, as my thoughts trampled over each other, disturbing their own balance, when I heard the eighth knock on my door. I found my eyes staring at that watch, they was a bit of hesitation, the first time I touched that watch they was an entire show to see, what was to happen if I touched it again.

  I picked up a book laying on my floor and used it as a dustpan to scrap that watch off the floor, without ever having it have second contact with my skin. I opened my last drawer at my bedside and stuffed it in, along with the note. I walked to my door and opened it. I found her hand about to hit it for the ninth time.

  My eyes found hers, as she stared at me like it was her first time to see me, she never did that, she never looked at me for more than a second, she'd always shy away, and look to the floor, I half smiled at her change of pace as I stepped aside for her to come in.

  ''Morning Rosie.'' I greeted as her lips stretched into a light smile and her head settled down.

  ''Morning Sir.'' She said coming in.

  Her body came to an aback jerk as her eyes grew to saucers staring at what was ahead of us, her features each aligned with surprise, her mouth dropped alittle, I looked away from her onward to what was just as new of me to do as it was of her to think I'd do, my cheeks felt inflamed, out of embarrassment, and I felt the urge to scratch the back of my head, sheepishly.

  ''The um. . is, I- I was um. . . Right.'' I trailed off, fibbing as she side eyed me. ''Sorry about the huge mess things got alot out of control last night.'' I felt the need to tell her.

  Right after I said that, I watched her eyes turn at my bed, then to my bed covers at the side, and I shut my eyes for a second, reddening at the overthinker she was, she misunderstood what I said.

  ''I was pretty ticked off about something Very personal and I got angry and tossed a few things around.'' I explained, I didn't know why I was giving her clarity. I imagined her air quoting '' in her head as she side eyed me once more. It obviously didn't look like a few things but I stuck with that narrative.

  She now stood in an angle in which I could hardly see her face, and so I just saw her head move up and down merely nodding, then she started, to pick up my books. I glanced at my bed; looking at underneath it. As images of that little monster flashed in my head, And I began to back up into my mini passage way, toward my bathroom. I recalled the stories it told me about Naijen- Grandpa?

  '' that name felt so weird to say, not just because it was an odd name, not really sure why/if he decided to change his name. But Naijen was the closest he could run from Naijo,

  It referred my Grandpa in many instances, of its story narration, giving him both an uplifting character and a downgrading one as well, the uplifting one was simple he was a knight, declared one after, he turned a good old age, he was made one in favor of his Dad who had been a knight himself; he was part of what they called the Knights of Ilandia, he earned his way through and became the head commanding knight, he sounded like how most honorable knights were described noble and a great swordman, lucky him his grandson was the opposite, as a crazed thought flickered in my head if this little monster were to be in fact right would I even consider to ask my Grandfather for a hand in teaching me how to use a sword, as a form of a two percent apology to me, I'd get good at fence, was all I could think of, maybe even better than Branden Richards considering my Grandfather was some great swordman, I rubbed my chin at that before brushing the thought away.

  The little monster also said after their great 'Ball of choose' was formed it needed a protector to safe keep it at any cost- - it emphasized, and he- my Grandfather was seen all so worthy and trusted that he was honored with such a significant task and he's title transcended from being the Prime knight to being a member of the Royal staff, Naijen the Great Guradian Watch Regem keeper. His down side was even simpler but yet so baffling, he traitorously stole all the Regems and disappeared without leaving a single trace.

  Dad's version of Grandpa was also the simplest, harsh but basic, he was an unconcerned father who selfishly only cared about himself and abandoned his family, left one night and never came back. The uplifting part was that he stayed until Dad was at least three years of age, now that sounds like a believable story. Both of the narratives shared similarity, a question of Why did they really

  I went downstairs for breakfast, I walked in our dining room, and I immediately wished I didn't, I saw him sitted on his favorite spot, the furthest chair on our furnished filled millstone gray and white table.

  I remembered, immediately his words as slow as sinking into quick sand, staring at him, I felt a knot tug in my stomach, the sense spread in my chest like a burning flame, I felt a strong vein form, at the side of my head, as it began to throb, I got this smothering feeling blooming inside me, it made me feel ashamed of myself, ashamed to have even gotten out of my room to join him. I didn't think it was right, after what happened last night he probably saw me differently now, from being a good son, I presumed to being a terrible one.

  I couldn't make myself to even sit by him and eat with him, pretend like our conversations wasn't what it was, stale and blunt, and his words filled my stomach with frustration, it actually felt full. I made a decision, I was Not going to eat with him not until we were both in better places.

  I shot one last glance at him, looking at how unbothered and casual he was, in his own bubble, annihilating any distractive thing present, I was about to turn back unnoticed, when Albert walked in with a water jar.

  We shared eye contact, as my eyes bulged at his briskly brown eyes, as I saw his mouth reach out for words, he was going to give up my unnoticed retreat. Before I could stop him, using gestures.

  He uttered.

  ''Good morning, dear boy.''

  Yes, he greeted loud enough to be heard by Dad who was looking at his phone while sipping his hot coffee. After hearing Albert's voice he paused for a moment and his eyes lifted up at Albert.

  He's expression was first of much surprise but quickly shifted into a stolid one, which he thought no one would notice, his cold dark blue eyes now focused on Albert.

  ''You can leave it there.'' His voice, it sounded more colder than usual, dread wearily with a hint of resentment, I knew he had acknowledged my presence but chose to ignore it.

  Albert walked to the table and put down the jar, when I turned my back to retreat back to my room, I heard a voice behind me.

  ''Are you not sitting? Chef Carlos has dished out all your favorites.'' Albert said dully opening the chair next to Dad where I always sat every morning.

  And my eyes instantly fell to Dad, it was like piercing little holes into my skin, to know just what he was thinking, what were he's precise thoughts about me, if he was still mad at me, was he going to react if I sat down next to him? was he bothered by my presence? I wanted to know, I needed to know. And I thought of a way I might.

  ''Morning Dad.'' I said quietly.

  Both I and Albert turned our eyes at him, my eyes were all edgy and sad, while Albert's looked curious, as the silence of the room went on for the stabbing longest of seconds, he didn't answer, he looked like nothing was even said, he just continued to sip his coffee and look at his phone, unbothered; unconcerned without care. It was infuriating!

  A thought- a sheer thought of him perhaps not answering was because he was lost in thought and making him to plug out any present sounds around him, he sure did that often as he could. I told myself that to make myself feel better, when I knew deep inside- more of surfacely he chose not to.

  He wouldn't even look at me, it was evident enough for me to know that he didn't even want to see my face, he was still angry with me. As if I'd make a second attempt retry greeting him, this time a little louder, to think I might be wrong for a second time and he could have merely not heard, No I knew my answer.

  And I felt something in me ache, move to a lower place. My eyes remained on his poise face as they began to feel alittle blurry, I glanced over to Albert, and merely shook my head. No, I was Not having breakfast with him. My heel slowly turned, and I walked out.