Diskenth, Justin

[JC]

***Incomplete File***

CONFIDENTIAL ACADEMY FILE #01031

IDENTIFICATION:

Diskenth, Justin Conan Leer
- Current age; 13
- DOB: January 1, 1993
- Gender; Male
- Alias; Walking Puppet

PHYSICAL INFORMATION:

"Justin Conan Diskenth"

OBSERVATION NOTES:

"Justin Conan Diskenth"

PARENTS:

• Diskenth, Daniel Shaun

- Born in the Philippines
- Raised in Chicago
- Died in Japan; Age 34
- Grave located in Manila, Philippines
- No special abilities aside from cooking stew

• Leer, Anna Rowena

- Born in France
- Raised in Chicago
- Died in Japan; age 31
- Grave located in France
- Special abilities include creating magnetic forces and cooking chopsuey

THE VOICES IN THE DIARY

Darkness.
Complete, absolute darkness surrounded me.
Yet the sound of rage, the sound of much destruction, echoed away in the vast shadows. Fury - an existence I could never deny; one that began to seep to my very soul. But I needed it, like water to the deepest, driest parts of me. But always, when I awoke every single morning, it is gone, only to be replaced by the warmth in the air. And when I wake, the wide window would still be open, letting in the sounds of birds chirping by. Dawn is such a nice event, where light seems to soak the horizon, before painting the sky in joy.

Next to my room was Katarina's own. Softly I made my way to her door, pushing its frame to avoid the squeaky noises it made to avoid waking up my sister. And there she was, wrapped up in her white blankets, cowering at the sight of day. Her body lay curved on the bed, her eyes shut tight. I made my way to her, before pulling the sheets off of her gently. She was sweating under the heat of day, and with her simple pink pajama. I placed a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched, before she opened her wide eyes, displaying her pure, black hues. "Wake up," I told her, assisting her even in sitting and eventually, standing.

She was close to my height, with me standing as five-foot-three, and her as five-foot-one. I led her to the dining room, where both of our meals were served. I escorted her to where she always sits, pulled out her own chair, gestured for her to sit down, and pushed the seat back a little when she was midway of sitting. Then I sat in my own space. With a silent mutter of a prayer, we began to eat. Our parents, I pondered while I chewed on a spoonful, would have already left the three-story house by this time of morning. The helpers, I assume, are nonethless doing their jobs in cleaning the house, the garden, and the pathway to the building. We have, indeed, a very big home.

A house is a building where other people live in. A home is where I live in, where Katarina lives in, and where we stay. Possibly, even for the rest of our lives. We finished eating, and I ushered her to the bath. Meekly she stepped inside, followed by a female helper. I stared at the closed, white door for a moment, before turning on my heels and going to my room. When I arrived, the bed was already made. I set up the game console, a PlayStation 2, stretched the controller to the bed, and plopped on the mattress. I waited for the disk to load, and when it did, the italized words sprang to the screen - Xenosaga. Shion and KOS-MOS are already favorite characters of mine.

When I heard the slippery steps, my gaze turned from the game to the open doorway, where Katarina had just passed by, dripping wet with a towel wrapped over her hair and a robe on her body. Chasing her was the female helper. I sighed, tilted my weight to the right, where the doorway stood welcoming, yet didn't make a move to leave the bed. My attention then locks on the game. A moment later, Katarina was beside me, gazing at the screen, her eyes shifting momentarily from my business to her book, The Lord Of Thieves by Cornelia Funke. German title, actually. Reading it in English always helps, yeah?

I saved in the station I was in before turning off the console. I turned to Katarina, who barely even lifted an eye to see me do so. "Ina," I called out soothingly, attracting her attention at once, yet she did not show it. "Time to eat." A true statement. It was about one o' clock in the afternoon, and not eating means starving little sister for dinner time. I offered her a hand, which she gladly took, before we orderly walked to the balcony, this time where our lunch was served. The sun would normally be high in the air at lunch, but we eat during one o' clock or two o' clock in the afternoon. The sun would move to a shaded area. If not, we always had an extended roof over the balcony.

The balcony was wide enough for us to fit our two beds, each of them fitted for the Master's bedroom. We sat, uttered our prayers, and began to eat. Life went by like that so fast in our eyes; school itself was no exception. Dinner would occur in our own rooms separately, barely giving us the time to see our beloved parents. School was not at all 'hard,' but we had some troubles we had to manage to at least, fit in the Top Three.

I'm probably making staff a hard History to read, so I'll skip on. x____x

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