Love- delivered to your mailbox

2: My life in a photobox

A reclining chair produces itself a few feet away, as a platform of my floor disappears, and I know she wants me to sit in it but I just stand there clutching my left hand which is beginning to throb. She tells me to walk over to the chair and my heart beats faster with each step I take but I make it. I sit down in the chair and she makes me drink blue syrup. When I wake up my hand is bandaged and there is medication on the table. I stand up and the room spins, so I stumble over to the couch and sit down. I stare down at the pristine white bandage wrapped around my left hand. I want something to do. I have so much free time it will drive me nuts. I decide to go to my room.I knock into walls as I go down the perfectly straight hallway, but finally I make it. My head is getting clearer so I manage to walk across the room, and to my closet without bumping into anything. I grab a floral box sitting at the top shelf. I open it and inside is my life, my family, my friends and my memories. As I look at the photos in the box a lone tears rolls down my cheek and lands on my leg. I look at the first photo and smile. I'm so tiny I'm not sure it's possible, I'm wrapped in a hospital blanket eyes closed, so new. I flip through photos for another four hours, then I get up my stomach nauseous and grumbling. I open the handle to the fridge and peer inside, I grab a sandwich sitting on the top shelf and pour myself a glass of cold apple juice. As I take a bite of the sandwich cheese, pepperoni, and flatbread fill my mouth. It's the pizza sandwich. I remember making it with my dad when I was younger. As soon as I'm done I head back to my room to continue looking at the photos. I push the door open and jump onto my bed which makes the photobox tip over and photos are strewn all over the floor. I look at the collage of photos and smile, scanning them. I stop when I get to a yearbook photo of my crush and grin, Nicholas Brey, he's a year older than me and we only have two classes together but that's enough. Or that was enough. I never talked to him before and I don't think he knows I exist. I think this would be the best possible time to get to know someone. I can't video chat with him I wouldn't be able to say anything so i'll write a letter.A reclining chair produces itself a few feet away, as a platform of my floor disappears, and I know she wants me to sit in it but I just stand there clutching my left hand which is beginning to throb. She tells me to walk over to the chair and my heart beats faster with each step I take but I make it. I sit down in the chair and she makes me drink blue syrup. When I wake up my hand is bandaged and there is medication on the table. I stand up and the room spins, so I stumble over to the couch and sit down. I stare down at the pristine white bandage wrapped around my left hand. I want something to do. I have so much free time it will drive me nuts. I decide to go to my room.I knock into walls as I go down the perfectly straight hallway, but finally I make it. My head is getting clearer so I manage to walk across the room, and to my closet without bumping into anything. I grab a floral box sitting at the top shelf. I open it and inside is my life, my family, my friends and my memories. As I look at the photos in the box a lone tears rolls down my cheek and lands on my leg. I look at the first photo and smile. I'm so tiny I'm not sure it's possible, I'm wrapped in a hospital blanket eyes closed, so new. I flip through photos for another four hours, then I get up my stomach nauseous and grumbling. I open the handle to the fridge and peer inside, I grab a sandwich sitting on the top shelf and pour myself a glass of cold apple juice. As I take a bite of the sandwich cheese, pepperoni, and flatbread fill my mouth. It's the pizza sandwich. I remember making it with my dad when I was younger. As soon as I'm done I head back to my room to continue looking at the photos. I push the door open and jump onto my bed which makes the photobox tip over and photos are strewn all over the floor. I look at the collage of photos and smile, scanning them. I stop when I get to a yearbook photo of my crush and grin, Nicholas Brey, he's a year older than me and we only have two classes together but that's enough. Or that was enough. I never talked to him before and I don't think he knows I exist. I think this would be the best possible time to get to know someone. I can't video chat with him I wouldn't be able to say anything so i'll write a letter.