Ugh. Again I'm not completely pleased with this chapter but I want to move on.
Will was alone. He wasn't sure why that thought kept entering his mind. Alone. He was use to alone. He'd been alone for years. No family, no real friends outside of friendly acquaintances. But the more he tried to reason the feeling away the more it fought back. Alone. And the more he heard the word the more something screamed inside him that this isn't right. Something isn't right.
He moved slowly to the table and dropped into a chair. Leaning back he let his head rest and stared up at the ceiling. He felt weary and alone. That word again. It was driving him mad! He pulled himself up straight and stared at the table. It was making him anxious. That feeling. He knew loneliness. Why was it bothering him now? He had lived alone in this very house for years. It had never changed and it never fazed him. At least he didn't remember it fazing him. When he tried to remember though, memories seemed hollow, unreal. They were empty and he could not remember how he felt all those years. When was the last time he felt something . . .?
"Something isn't right!" Will jumped out of his chair to pace the room. Something was missing. Something was gone and he couldn't remember where it went or why it was missing. He couldn't remember what it was! He continued to pace the room fingers tangled in his hair.
Stopping he took a deep breath and sat back in the chair. He was getting worked up and irrational about nothing. Nothing. Something isn't right . . .
Spotting the lone book shelf in the otherwise empty room he moved to examine it. Thinking that maybe focusing on something would calm his irrational mind. The shelves were filled with all sorts of books that Will could never get rid of. He barely touched them but he would never even think of leaving them. They were filled with everything his life consisted of up to this point. These books held traces of not only him but the people who had meant the most to him. Old school books and other school journals, some of his mothers old books, the treasured ones from his father, and the well worn books of his brother were all stacked neatly on the shelves.
He picked one up tentatively eying the title, Tails of the Mythical. He smiled at the memory of his over imaginative brother. Jake would have done wonderful things, Will was sure of it. He was so extremely smart, with such a wanting to learn. He could have done anything. Will sighed. Placing the book carefully back he pulled out another. Their family photo album. His mother cherished this book and had pulled it out to show her children any chance she got. The book started with the happy wedding of Will's parents. His mother was beautiful in her white gown. She could have been wearing rags however and Will was sure she would still be beautiful. The book continued with a smiling Will with curly, golden locks. He was only a year old then. The next picture was of an older Will sitting with a very young Jake in his lap. The book continued with pictures of Lotte and of mother and father. And finally Will stopped at one page. It was their last family photo. Father stood next to mother. In his arms was Lotte with her arms around his neck affectionately. Will sat next to his mother. Her arm was around his shoulder and her smile was bright and elegant. In Will's lap sat Jake again, his smile so big that his eyes were squinted. Will quickly closed the book and hurriedly put it in its place. The memories hurt and he regretted. Things could have gone so much differently. But "if only" got him nowhere. And remembering just brought back the pain. And all of this . . . it still didn't feel right. Something is wrong.
Will turned and headed back for the table. A mantra. That's what it seemed like. Back and forth aimlessly. Sitting down he occupied himself with the porcelain white cup sitting toward the middle of the table. Holding it in his hands he was surprised at the weight of it. It was so light and so thin. How could he hold it and it not crumble within his hands? He sat there for what seemed like hours the small cup sitting in his hands. Something wasn't right. He couldn't shake the feeling that this isn't how it was. This wasn't his life. This cup . . . There was something about this very cup.
Will suddenly dropped his hands, allowing the white cup to tumble to the unforgiving grown. It shattered, unsurprisingly, sending pieces everywhere. Will stared at the mess. Shards of broken cup. Something isn't right. The cup.
"It's broken . . ." Will whispered to the empty room. "I broke the cup, again. . . No. Jake broke the cup the first time." Will stood up from his chair. "Jake broke the cup when I startled him. Jake broke the cup during our fight. It was Jake." He was breathing heavily now. "It was Jake. And I . . . I . . ." Will bolted for the front door, mind racing and heart pumping. This wasn't right! This wasn't his life. This wasn't how this was supposed to be! Jake was supposed to be here!
Will swung open the front door and screamed into the darkness. "Come back! This is not what I wanted! This is not how it should have been. Change it back. Please, please come back." Will's words faded with his adrenaline until he found himself falling to his knees. He remembered. He remembered his life. What it was. He remembered. He grew up with Jake. He regretted. Lotte. He remembered. He was given a choice. He thought he could fix their life, fix their relationship if he stopped Jake from making that huge mistake. But he was the one who made the mistake. It was him. He cursed himself. He remembered. Will dropped his head until it rested at his arms and he sobbed. "What have I done? Oh God . . . this can't be the way it will end." Will's mumbled cries were lost in the thick darkness. His face pushed into the ground, tears mixed with dirt leaving smudges down his face. Finally, pulling himself up, he found balance on his shaky legs and the door frame. He felt as if his chest were collapsing in on itself. He spoke into the night with all the strength he could muster. "You have to bring him back . . ." Tears streamed down his cheeks leaving trails through the dirt. "DAMN IT BRING HIM BACK!"