Our destination surprises me as we appear before a house of familiarity. It towers above us. Three stories in height and ten foot in width. Its outer sheen is black, devastation of a fire, with bits of daffodil yellow peeking through and cream coloured walls show in the windows. Furniture draped with dust blankets cover the floor. I go to the door. It’s malted green with a brass 6 nailed in the centre. Grabbing the handle and open it. Walking down the hallway, I study the aged, black and white photographs lining the walls. I stop at a family photo. A father, mother, brother, sister and cattle dog. The father has mouse brown hair, turquoise-hazel eyes, spiky brown beard, a face of a man of high status and is wearing military clothes. His wife has lilac hair, sapphire eyes, rosy cheeks, young, lady-like features and wears a small fascinate atop her head. The siblings look a lot alike. The brother looks older with a face like his mothers, eyes like his father and wears a ruffled white shirt unbuttoned at the top, spying toned muscles. The youngest is her father in many ways, dressed like a boy and has mother’s  eyes. The eldest sibling has an arm around his sister.

Jason leans against the door, awaiting my response. I turn back to him, tears funnelling down my face. No word was spoken as we walk out into the open. I shut the door behind us without a further glance. I grasp his hand.

“It’s my turn.” I announce and teleport us back to his apartment.  

*********   

I sit on the couch and flick through the TV channels. Nothing interests me, so I pick up a “The War” and read. Thoughts and memories plague my mind as the sense of loneliness consumes me. I couldn’t sleep after visiting my childhood home. I had returned there when Jason went to sleep and brought the photo I had been studying back. It sits on my bedside table.

The squeak of a door alerts me to my brother’s presence. He sits next to me and draws me to his chest.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks. I shake my head. “I saw that photo on your table. You went back?” I ignore him. He stares into space.

“What if that happens to someone else?” I break the silence.

“Don’t worry it won’t. We’ll make sure of that.” Came the reply. I snuggle deeper into him. Warmth and comfort radiate from him. I relax. This was safety. This was home and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I shouldn’t linger in the past or depict the future, but thrive in the present. This was my life and no one was going to ruin it. Or so I thought…