Journal is written on the top of the fake-leather bound book he carries around, but I am pretty sure he uses it as a Diary. Or at least he hugs it to his chest as if everything around him will ...
Well, glanced in it because it skidded to a stop wide-open in-front of me, an effect of him falling face first due to some bully pushing him down. I only caught a side glance, really, enough to see my name folowed by a sketch of what might have been me, but was blurred by speed as I threw myself at the bully who dared trip the innocent boy with doe-eyes and the tiny teeth that were perpetually hidden behind a closed-mouth smile.
I later learned that his name was Gerard, that he didn't like anyone even looking at his journal, that he had a brother, that he liked to sing and draw, and that somehow, he trusts me when no one else seems to get through to him. And the only thing more important than his journal was his brother.
He held them both close to his heart and the only difference in which he treated them was that sometimes he let people touch his brother Mikey. S long as he could see them at all times and he was sure they were treating him correctly.
As we all grew up, Gerard "allowed", as much as his big-brother power let him, more people to go near Mikey as he took his first bus ride to school to the day he joined us in Highschool for his Eight grade year and our Sophmore year.
The thing no one was allowed to touch was his journal. One thing, other than our long lasting friendship and his love for his family, that never changed.