He picks up the small snow globe and holds it up against the feeble light from the window. Very feeble light , typical of a cold winter morning. The glass is no longer new, covered with finger prints and dirty marks and a few scratches.
He looks at the prints trying to find his.
Of course he knows he can't actually find something like that. His mind switches back to three years ago.
"You're seriously wasting good money on that?" He scoffs, watching his twin brother/best friend fiddle with the glass globe shaking it like a kid and watching the flakes inside settle, a rather imbecilic expression on his face. He has never noticed it before but this mouth half-open , not-smart-enough-to-rub-two-stones-together look suits his brother a little too well .
He looks adorable.
"I like this. I want this." Fred says defiantly and hugs the globe close and George rolls his eyes , complaining about wasting money and all that but secretly he's glad. If that globe makes Fred look carefree and joyful like that, he wouldn't mind spending a fortune on it.
He returns to the present and holds the globe up again, this time it shines brighter and he allows himself one kiss, one single kiss to the lousy cold glass before letting go.
The glass shatters on the wooden floor and he watches the memories scatter in his head.
He turns back to the room and his eyes rest on the curtains, the only pair of curtains in the room that are mismatched. Their a dirty pink and unlike the other curtains, unwashed.
There are a few stains here and there scattered over the fabric, not unlike the shards of glass currently scattered underfoot.
He traces one, a light brownish red scar that looks a lot like dried blood but is actually something else.
"Pygmypuffs? Seriously? Need I remind you that we are nineteen year old men and not nine year old girls?" George protests but Fred is grinning and holding the curtain close to his shoulders, shaking his head.
"I like this , its totally my kind of thing." He protests, sniffing affectionately at his brother . George momentarily forgets he's been eating chocolate mousse and lunges forward to grab the fabric out of his hands and trips over his own two feet.
He crashes into Fred and the pair of them go down like stones in a lake, legs tangled in the curtains and each other. They splutter back to earth, trying to push the offending curtain out of their faces and stare at each other in shock, too stunned by the sudden fall to think.
And then Fred starts laughing.
George joins in and unthinkingly wipes his chocolate covered mouth on the curtain.
He pulls the fabric close and takes a deep breath, assaulted by a moldy , sick smell. He tries hard, very hard to find some other scent, his scent , a small indication , a small sign that he had once held this in his hands.
Nothing.
The clock ticks , sounding oddly booming in the silence.
He reaches out, hands fisting on the curtain and yanks it down sharply and the whole thing crashes down, curtain rods and all.
And So, George methodically removes each and every article that reminds him of his dead brother, determined to start new, determined to just forget.
But two weeks later he's sitting on the cold wooden floor with nothing in the room but himself and he can still hear phantom footsteps on the linoleum floor as he remembers chasing his brother around that room.
I tried to forget but you're still in my room.
Not Sure what this is! :( not sure if i'll continue either unless someone wants me to... :)