Inhale

7.

(A/N: Julian has some negative thoughts about himself in this chapter. Nothing too intense, but just a reminder to be kind yourself.)

"Tacenda: (noun.) Things that are not to be spoken about or made public. Things that are best left unsaid."

My own research was not exactly conventional, and required some outside input. I didn't know Kaspar well enough myself to ask him about the business, and Kaspar didn't know me well enough to give out that kind of information. But I was fortunate enough to have a roommate who trusted no one and was trusted by all, with a certain skill for extracting information. I had returned to the dorms and found that he was missing, save for a note he had left by the door.

Ellie mentioned Kaspar. Off practice at 19:30. Tower.

My afternoon was empty and so I chose to retire to my bed for a nap, and once I woke up the light was already fast fading. Some time was spent searching for warm enough clothing, seeing as Josiah had already managed to 'borrow' three of my thermal shirts. As per the note, I turned up at the tower around 19:50, where I was joined soon after by a flushed but contented looking Josiah.

"So," Josiah huffed as he sat down abruptly on the steps. They were damp from light rainfall earlier in the day and he spent a solid minute trying to adjust himself so that he was sat on the hem of his jacket. As he did this, his hair slid forward and covered his eyes. My jaw clenched. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. "What can I do for you, Jules."

A strange twinge in my chest almost stopped me from asking. Part of me almost believed that I should have kept the article a secret, as if it wasn't going to be published for all the school to see. I wanted him to see my story and feel shocked, or surprised, or to admire my work. Reading it now I realise it sounds as though Josiah was some pompous prat, which he was, but he wasn't unkind. He was always supportive and always read my pieces, but something in me wanted him to open that paper and see his eyes widen as he read my name next to the words. I wanted him to slide through surprise and then understanding, that I was some prodigy all along. I wasn't. In fact, I did not consider myself competitive with other people. I was at constant competition with myself when it came to my writing, and felt that breaking Josiah's nonchalance might satisfy my thirst.

"What do you know about Kaspar and his father?" I shifted myself to face him on the damp step. In our third year I had stumbled across a random door on the perimeter of the abandoned tower on the school grounds. The tower was part of the original construction when the place was built, but since its conversion to a school it no longer served much purpose. Too old to be destroyed without a guilty conscience, it remained a silent soldier in the overgrown field on the hill.

Josiah had started taking me on his walks while he smoked, and as we talked we would wander about the grounds in the dark. One day we braved visiting the tower, and we liked it there. It was secretive, and private and it allowed us to talk as loudly and carelessly as we desired. Sometimes we spent hours there, and soon the natural needs of the human body would take over. But the walk back to the school was at least 8 minutes, and neither of us could contain our bladders for that journey.

We had enough decency to walk a good distance away from the tower when relieving ourselves and on one of these trips, on my way back to Josiah, I noticed a small outline. I showed Josiah and we agreed we would investigate. Curious and riddled with unadulterated excitement, we tugged at the flimsy branches which had grown over the entry, not caring for the thorns in our palms. We pushed and the door swung open, unlocked clearly forgotten. The room, or more accurately the tunnel inside was disturbingly dark and dusty. But Josiah was unperturbed; all things unknown were an adventure.

Reluctantly, I followed him down the steps and noted that we were heading downwards. Throughout this journey, Josiah and I speculated what kind of place we would find at the bottom. A cellar, a dungeon, a library, a gallery, storage, cleaning supplies, some squatter or maybe raccoons. And as we moved steadily deeper underground, the walls grew damp and mossy in places. There was the distinct sound of droplets, as though someone where dropping pebbles into a puddle below us. Josiah continued to speculate, more to scare me than anything else. But what we found was unlike anything had guessed.