Christmas is over.1
I don't know how long it's been since Christmas, but it has been long enough for me to tire of my new toy and go back to writing in this book. The toy I got is a simple thing, a wooden airplane. Last year I got a plastic one that made sounds when you pushed buttons on it, and I couldn't help but feel that I was too smart for it.2
Nevertheless, I will probably get some kind of airplane next year. Now I believe that it is somewhere in the middle of February, which means that Spring is coming soon.3
Yesterday there were new people here at our house. Mother brought a boy up to my room, and she said that he was my cousin. I've never met another boy before. She said that he was three years younger than me, which is why when I stood up I had to look down to see him. I have to do that with Mother, too, or else I can't see her. She said that my cousin's name was Bradley, and she told him that my name was Thomas. I was named after my father who flew airplanes.4
We played with my airplanes for a long time, until Mother came and got Bradley and took him away. She told me that I would never see him again, but I didn't care. I don't even know him anyway.5
After Bradley and his Mother left our house, my Mother brought me dinner. In February she doesn't take such a long time to make meals, and they aren't so fancy. So last night she made me a ham and cheese sandwich. I was still hungry after, but I didn't complain. I just went to sleep.6
This morning Mother woke me up like she does every day, but she told me that I am sick. She says that it's why my stomach is hurting and why I'm shivering and sweating a lot. So I'm writing this in bed instead of at my desk like usual. Mother says that it's Bradley's fault that I'm sick, and that's why I shouldn't be around other boys. They'll get me sick or hurt me.7
I don't know if that's true. I don't think that Bradley wanted to make me sick, because he wasn't mean to me. But maybe mother is right. I don't know what other boys are like.
Author notes
This is not about me. It is about a fictional character and is simply in first person point of view. When I write this, I am writing as my fictional character, and he or she does not think the same way as I do. He or she has a totally different perspective on life.
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