The Manifestation Book

My parents have always been terrified of the internet. They are convinced that it is the root of most of the world’s issues. They also think that computers are going to kill humans, an impending fear they had adopted in the early ages of technology. I was never allowed to have any electronics while growing up. My parents refused my requests and ignored my complaints about other kids having luxuries that I did not. To make up for it, they would let me check out as many books as I would like from the library. It was a regular thing for me, finding so many different novels. I did not want to put any of them down because I knew I would not remember them the next time I would visit. My mother’s eyes widened at the sight of me weighed down by so many books, my torso leaning backward. I was dedicated to getting every single one of them. She would never say a word to me about it. My eyes would always skim past the movies, but my mother would grab my hand and pull me towards the countless towers of words. I truly felt that it was unfair of them to hold me back from something everyone else got to enjoy. It was infuriating to never know what my friends were talking about when they would mention shows and movies on TV. I would tell them that it was my choice to stay away from technology, to save myself from the embarrassment. I was never curious about all the reasons as to why my parents kept the technology from me, until one day when I admitted to my absolute best friend that I didn’t hate technology. All my defensive nagging about why TV rots the brain was rooted from my parent’s irrational fears. My friend sparked a new wave of curiosity within me. She genuinely wanted to know what dangerous scenarios were going through my parent’s minds. Did they imagine human-like robot war villains with guns, or maybe robots that had intelligence of biological warfare, or did they simply fear what technology was doing to people’s social skills, like so many adults did. I wanted to give her an answer, but I had never questioned my parents about the details of their overdramatized nightmares. That day when I got home, I did not hesitate. I was going to get to the bottom of it all and then tomorrow I was going to tell my best friend about all their crazy ideas.

I was mildly disappointed when I finally asked, “I never really asked you guys why you hate electronics so much. What is the worst thing that might happen?”.

My parents caught eyes, and without speaking I knew that they were having an entire conversation. I felt as if I had overstepped, but I was not sure why. Creases made themselves apparent on my mother’s forehead, something that would happen when she was stressed or thinking hard. I regretted having asked them at all. Even if I didn’t think their fears were fair, my parents treated me very well and I was grateful.

It was my father that finally answered, but he wasn’t talking to me, “They are not a child anymore. They deserve to know the truth.”

My mother’s eyes were wide and full of introspection. She finally nodded, giving consent for my father to speak.

“We think you’re old enough to finally know. We wanted to protect you. We wanted to give you a positive outlook on life. We have never feared electronics. We just have never been able to afford them. I am sorry that we lied to you about that. At the time, we truly thought it was best for you, but now I know it was wrong of us to set you up with fake expectations about the world”, He said. I hated to admit that I was shocked. I had never once heard my parents mention survival. As far as I knew they could buy anything that they wanted. They had always managed to give me everything that I wanted, as long as it wasn’t electronic.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was just ignorant. The things I had asked for were never expensive. I felt bad for making fun of my parents. I remember questioning them as to why they were so stressed when my father had lost his job, but now I knew why. We were always barely scraping by.

It was new for me, being worried about money, but since that day my parents no longer hid it from me. I told them I wanted to get a job, but my father said no. He wanted me to focus on school because he thought that was what would be best for me.

The next time I went to the library, I skipped the young adult section. I was going to find a way to make all my family’s problems end. I did not know where to begin, so I asked the librarian for directions to the business section.

There were many different variants of how to start a business, stock markets, and self-help books. My eyes skimmed past them all, none of them catching. I forced myself to pick up a book about investment. I tried to read the first page, but my brain rejected it all. I went through a few more books, I thought I might die of boredom. I almost gave up, I was going to walk away, but then I saw a small black notebook sitting between two basic books on the bottom shelf. The notebook's cover was made from leather, which I thought to be odd because most of the books had a protective cover. I used my thumb to hold down the cover and let the pages skim past. I usually did this to get an idea of the length of the story. It never dictated my like for a book, I just liked to mentally prepare myself. There was nothing to prepare for. The notebook seemed to be empty. All the pages were plain white and there was nothing special at all about them. I couldn’t remember where it was originally placed, so I tried sticking it somewhere randomly.

“So, you’re the one who has been hiding those little notebooks everywhere”, A woman said from behind me. The librarian towered over me; her lips moved upwards into a thin red line. I was going to reply, but she leaned down and grabbed the small black notebook that I was trying to get rid of.

“The instructions are really confusing, but they are well worth trying to understand. I found one of the notebooks for the first time last year. I had a feeling it might be you who was sneaking them into random places. You come in here more than any other kid your age and I suspected that there was a reason”, The librarian said.

I was confused as hell, I did not understand until the women opened the book and turned to the first page. I was surprised to see that she was right, there was something that I had missed.

“I am so sorry to disappoint you, but I am just hearing for the first time about these notebooks”, I said. The librarian’s lips did not rest. She seemed excited to be discussing it.

“I thought I had finally caught the mastermind. It is okay. It gives me something to look forward to, this person I want to find. You should take the notebook with you either way. It has helped me in ways that I cannot explain”, said the librarian. I would have loved to hear the explanation as to how an almost empty notebook changed her life, but an annoyed old reader was ready to check-out.

I made myself a comfortable spot on the floor near the business section. I wanted to know what she was talking about. Only one page of the notebook had written words to find. I studied them closely, with an open mind. Your dreams can be your reality, was sprawled evenly across the top of the page. The book had three rules.

1. Write down your dreams as if they already exist but remember to be grateful for what you have in the process.

2. Write precise and positive words, otherwise, bad things could manifest.

3. Live in the moment.

I now understood the librarian’s excitement. Whoever had placed the notebooks in the library was probably an amazing author, either that or they were a lunatic. The idea the notebook was insinuating was bizarre. The world has rules and people are not just handed whatever they may desire, something I was just starting to learn. I was not sure what I wanted to write, but it would have been boring to leave the notebook, without giving it a go. I have always liked magic and I wasn't going to pass up my only chance at it. I grabbed a pen from my bag and started to consider. What could I write that would end all my problems? 20,000 would be enough to take the stress off my parents. They might be able to take a vacation, or at the very least maybe they would not be worried about the rent. There was something that I desired too, other than helping my family. I decided to write only two things.

I can watch a lot of television and my family has a 20,000-check given to them.

I closed the notebook, without a second thought. I gazed around the room skeptically, I hoped somebody was not secretly laughing at me. I put the notebook back on the shelf, my wishes in the form of words taking up some space in it. I waved to the librarian on my way out. I was a little bit disappointed in myself for getting so distracted by something so dumb because my family’s problems were left unsolved. Perhaps I would visit the library again later in the week, but this time I would invest my time in entrepreneurship.

When I got home, I expected lunch to be waiting there because my father made it every day. I wondered if my parents had gone out and forgot to tell me. My stomach dropped when I read the note left on the fridge. My mother’s frantic scribbles were hard to read, but I got the message. I walked back outside and took the first bus to the hospital. When I got there, I found my mother, bawling and alone. She pulled me into her arms and let out a sigh.

“Your father is going to be okay, but he might not be able to walk again”, my mother said. My father had been hit by a car on his way to the grocery store.

It was not long before the doctor came and got us. I could not hold back my tears when I saw him lying there, a cast covered body was all I could see. I ran to his side and of course, he tried to comfort me, still trying to keep his pride.

“Hey, look on the bright side. You get to watch tv every time you come to visit, oh and did your mother tell you that the people who hit me gave me a check for 20,000 dollars”, he said, soft eyes sparkling with excitement.