Not My Fairytale

Chapter 4 - Memory Box

My eyes own slowly, groggy having just woken up. I look to my side to be greeted with Noah's back, him having rolled over during the night. Gentle snores signal that he's still asleep. Quietly, so not to wake him, I slide my legs out from underneath the covers, my feet gently making contact with the soft cream carpet bellow. I stand up, stretching my limbs, awaking them from their sleepy haze. Slowly, I bend down and fumble under my bed before my hands land on what I am looking for. From under the wooden frame I pull out a black box. Looking up momentarily at Noah, still sound asleep, I make my way out of the room and into the kitchen. I deposit the box onto the island, taking seat on one of the stools before carefully lifting the lid.

Staring up at me are a collection of memories collected throughout my life. Routing through, I come across tickets to an Oxford City football game. Taking a closer look at the date I spot they are from Alex's first game with the team. I remember how excited I was to see him play. Putting them back into the safety of the cardboard walls I pull out the fake flower band I had for prom. I place in on my wrist, sticking my arm out in front of myself and admiring it. My mind wandering back to Chippenham a pang of loneliness hits me. Although knowing I still have Hannah and Liam, things are different now. They are busy, adults with budding professions. Not like me, still working part time tutoring whilst failing at my chosen career path. Our group, though small had been a tight unit. I think of Spencer noting that I haven't spoken to him in a while and hope he is doing okay. Tugging the band off I return the accessory back to its home. 

A Polaroid catches my eyes and I fish it out of the sea of photos. Alex's grinning face gazes back at me. He's holding back a laugh as my hand comes towards the camera trying to protest against the picture being taken giggling myself. We aren't anywhere fancy, just sprawled out on my bed in my first year student accommodation. We look so happy. 

The sound of an opening door causes me to cast the photo back into the box, finding Hannah exiting her room. Her blonde locks messily drape around her shoulders. 
"Morning," she grumbles, evidently not impressed by being awake. She walks into the kitchen putting the kettle on, "Coffee?"
I nod in at her offer, "Good morning sunshine."
Hannah doesn't even bother respond retrieving mugs with a clatter. Pouring boiling water into them she passes one to me which I accept gratefully. 
"What are you looking at?" She asks eyeing up the black box, vaguely recognising it, "Is that your memory box?"
I slide it towards her so she can see for herself. 

Hannah dips her hand in pulling out a tiny paper booklet, "Oh my gosh, I can't believe you still have this," she squeals, opening it up between us so that we can both take a look. It's a programme from one of our primary school plays- Oliver. We flick through, enjoying the pictures, discussing where everyone is now. A tiny Hannah is soon found dressed up with a bonnet holding a basket of flowers as part of a group. I coo at her, pointing out how adorable she was. A few pages further in we find me in the corner of a picture dressed up as a street urchin. Standing inches bellow everyone else we can't help but laugh at the fact I never grew despite everyone telling me I was sure to have a huge growth spurt in high school. I had borrowed a flat cap from my dad which was far too big for me, drooping over my eyes. I recall constantly having to push it up during rehearsals.

Turning to look at those with the main roles a young Liam grins wickedly in the role of the Artful Dodger. Speaking of the man himself he opens the door.
"What?" He says,looking uneasy as Hannah and I begin to exclaim how cute he is. 
Coming to join the party he looks over our shoulders at his younger self.
"Boy had game aged nine," he comments, pulling the programme off the table to get a closer look. Squinting at the picture, the corners of his mouth curl upwards, "Hey who's that looking at me with adoration." 
Wafting the page back until our noses we notice a tiny blonde flower girl staring longingly at the skill full pickpocket.
"I knew then that I would end up with that boy," Hannah says smiling at the image. 
Liam leans round her kissing her on the cheek and pulling her into an embrace, "Well I am glad my nine-year-old charms worked."