The life we never lived

☁Chapter 3: Letters treasure chests and you

☁ C H A P T E R 3:

Letters, treasure chests and you

My room tells the story of my life. From the empty chair in the corner to the scattered childhood photos on my desk. Everything in here represents a part of me. Even the plastered magazine pictures on my walls as if it was inseparable from one another; the bookshelf holding all sorts old stuffed animals and dried up nail polish as well as books my parents used to read me to sleep or books Charlie and I used to laugh as we voiced the characters.

Nobody has been in my life long enough to know where I've gotten all these things from (excluding my parents). But that doesn't mean I don't occasionally think about them. Sometimes I'll just walk past an old class picture and look at the little five year olds beaming at the camera or simply unaware of snapped photograph taking place; who I don't even know anymore.

      Sometimes I even think about Charlie. But he's just as much apart of my life as the five year old girl that sat across from me in kindergarten. They're both memories, but not apart of me anymore. Jordan is here. He's apart of my life now.

Speaking of the devil

He was comfortably lying on the floor - a few feet away from me. Everything was really still, silent as well; Jordan and I always enjoyed our companies, even if there was nothing to talk, another reason I loved the guy. I looked over to his direction. He was clearly in a similar daydream as if he was in his own parallel universe.

"I'm bored." I complained with a frown, breaking the silence of the room. "Lets do something fun." I continued on with my pester like an enfant demanding to be bought the latest action figure.

Jordan was lying on a fuzzy pink carpet, throwing a plastic baseball up into the air and watching it returns back to his palms before catching it proficiently.

       I'm guessing he chose to ignore my constant nagging; still trapped in his distant thought. I could tell he was thinking really hard about something; I was already used to all the various actions he would do when he was trapped at thought.

I decided to do my own little investigation on him. So I got up off from my bed and went over to lie down next to him. It was dead quiet for a few moments before I dropped the bomb of asking him what was wrong.

"Jor..." I trailed off, "Is something wrong?" I finished softly, gently flicking small strands of hair from his head to try solace the situation of the atmosphere.

It didn't take long until Jordan was sitting up and bickering about something his older brother did. They fought a lot and most the time Jordan would take advantage of having me in his life and tell me about it to perhaps get some load off his back.

I was such a Guru, or therapist, or something like that.

While Jordan was ranting on about the argument, I found myself trailing of from his agitation story and to the suddenly fascinating blank white ceiling hovering over the two of us. I wasn't ignoring him or anything, but I just started thinking about stupid event of the day.

"Goddamn it, Blair!" Jordan snapped waking me out of my daydream. "Are you even listening to me?"

I glanced up at him for a moment. "Yeah... Of course I'm listening!" I said back.

"Then what do you think I should do? This is a real dilemma." He puffed with his desperate pupils locked with mine filled with plea as well as folding his arms against his chest like a irritated child.