The Hours We Have

chapter forty-eight

It was strange. 

For twenty years of my life, I had lived in the same place. The same city. Saw the same views, and admired them, watched the same people, and pondered about them. I have even walked the same streets every day, and thought nothing else of them. Never once had I considered leaving the place where I was born. For real, anyway. 

Of course, I had dreamed of leaving. We all have a habit of dreaming when we're stuck in a low place, or we wish our circumstances were different. I mean, that's why you're here, isn't it? Perhaps it might not be your dream but even if it's mine, we are still dreaming. 

I suppose that was something that stuck with us from our childhood. Maybe I didn't dream about dinosaurs and flying horses anymore but instead, as I grew up, my dreams expanded as well. I dreamed of better days and brighter futures, and I wished upon a shooting star that it might come true. 

Because as adults, we have the ability to make dreams into plans. And that's not something a child can do. Perhaps there could be a good side to growing up but I can honestly say it's hard to find. Amongst the basic needs we have to be alive, there are other fundamental things that can get in the way; like money. 

But if there was one thing that life had taught me, from the very day I lost my parents in that tragic event, nothing is the same. 

Life is constantly changing. With every rise and fall of the burning sun, things are different. Times come and go. Every breathing being lives and dies. There is no building that can stand forever, no car that will run forever, and money eventually becomes meaningless. 

I still had yet to experience that day, when money is the least of my concerns, but for now, I was preparing myself to start packing. 

I had been standing in the middle of my room, with my head lost in the clouds for the last ten minutes. A small part of me couldn't believe it was finally happening, and another part of me felt strangely compelled to leave everything in its place. 

If I was packing up my life, then why did I need to bring the past with me? 

I wanted to leave everything, aside from a few valuable, sentimental things, and start over new. It was exciting to think I could redecorate my new room. I couldn't wait to paint the walls, I hoped I could. I was already imagining a theme in my mind, and it included baby blue colors, like a brand new sky fawning over the sun. 

There was a knock on my door behind me. 

"Hey," Mikeal's voice greeted me, "How's everything going?" 

I turned to face him, "Good, I guess." 

His eyes raked over my untouched room, and the empty boxes neatly stacked by my desk, "Do you need any help?" 

"No, I'm good," I fiddled with the hem of my sweatshirt. 

"Well," He began carefully, "I just got off the phone with our real estate agent and she says we should make a very decent profit. It should be enough to set us up for the next few years, not including the tuition money I received." 

I had almost forgotten about my job in the midst of things. I would have to let them know I was leaving. "I can find a new job when we move," I blurted, "I'm sure it won't be hard, I have experience for my resume and--"

"No, Jordyn," Mikeal cut me off, softly, "I don't want you to have to worry about working anymore. I don't want you to worry about money either," He approached and took my hand in his, squeezing firmly, "When we settle in, I want you to focus on your college, and I want you to... have fun."