It's September, Year 2015 (Brendon is remembering himself return to the apartment for the second time after he and Terra broke up.)
He'd been living in cheshire with his mom and stepdad for almost three months. It was rather cowardly, really. Brendon had fled london because apparently the mere thought of being in the same city as his girlfriend was too much. Oh...god...Everything's exactly the same as when he had left.
Brendon watches himself walk over to the book shelf where he had lashed out and silently sweep up the shards of glass, paper and broken metal frames. A thin layer of dust had collected over the shattered mess and without a word, he picks up a bin and dumps everything into it.
left over, facedown on the floor is a small polaroid photo, and on the back in Terra's messy scrawl it says, "the good ole days." Without turning it over Brendon knows that it's a photo of him giving Terra a piggyback ride, in the far distance is a lit up faris wheel. They both have carefree smiles and happy eyes.
Brendon doesn't turn the photo over. He knows that even if he does, he wouldn't even recognize himself. He throws it away facedown instead. Brendon remembers how that September night, he couldn't sleep. At all. The apartment was too full of Terra. Sure, the photos were gone, but that didn't mean Brendon didn't think of Terra nearly burning down the building as she tried to fry some eggs whenever she went into the kitchen. That didn't mean he could look at the selection of movies under the tv and not remember all the time they had spent watching them. That didn't mean Charlie could sleep in this bed, this creaky, too small bed, without wishing Terra was beside him.
In his sleep, the younger Brendon thrashes about and rolls over with one arm extended, as if he's reaching out to something (or someone) and of course, his fingers touch nothing but air and cold sheets.
