Trigger warning: suicide ideation
Putting something inside of a time capsule was something that Brandon knew was supposed to be fun, but he didn’t feel that way about it. In fact, he had been planning this for weeks now.
“Brandon,” his friend Elena said, bringing him out of his trance, “what are you putting in your capsule?”
“We’re not supposed to tell, Elena, remember?”
“Well, yes, but- oh, you’re no fun.” She frowned.
He almost wanted to tell her. Elena, this is exactly what I’m doing! But then she’d be concerned, and if not scared. She would tell somebody then, and Brandon’s whole plan would crumble and he couldn’t let that happen.
“Fine, what are you putting in yours?” He had asked in hopes of distracting her, and it worked. Elena’s face grew a smile that seemed to spread itself across her whole face.
“First, I’m putting in a photo of us from when we were seven, when you had that bouncy-castle party. You know, the photo where you have chocolate cake smeared all down your chin.”
He did know. Both he and Elena had eaten masses of cake, which they were forbidden to touch, only Elena had been smart enough to cover hers up. Brandon, on the other hand, left all the evidence on his chin. Luckily for him, his parents hadn’t minded too much.
“Then, I’m going to write a letter to myself. I’m going to predict what my life will be like in around twenty years so when we dig it out together again, we can see how much we’ve changed.”
Brandon smiled at her enthusiasm. He knew exactly what she would predict too - she wanted to be a child psychologist. That was kind of ironic. She had also told Brandon that under no circumstances did she want to get married or have children. He doubted that would change within the next twenty years.
“I’ve also got a collection of film receipts from the cinema and train tickets that I’ve kept. I want to put them all in there too.”
“Why?”
“So that when we open it we can look back at how stupid it was that we took the train to the farthest place for no reason other than the fun of it. Or that we’ve seen all sorts of films together, like Little Women or Infinity War or..”
“Cats,” he finished and they both burst out laughing, much like they had done in the cinema. Brandon could remember being glared at by the room full of parents in the cinema seats as they ran out laughing so hard that their stomachs started to hurt. He had spilled his popcorn everywhere which, for some reason, Elena had found utterly hilarious.
“Anything else?”
“Nothing much of value,” she replied, “just a few newspapers here are there to remember key events. Not that I read the newspaper anyway, I just stole it from my grandma.”
Brandon enjoyed watching Elena as she went on and on about the significance of every item that she was going to place inside of her capsule. It brought a small smile to Brandon’s face as he realised that most of her items surrounded the pair of them. Their friendship had lasted eleven years this far and it was clear that Elena was only excited for it to last longer. At least twenty years longer; she was already planning what was going to happen on the day they opened it.
He didn’t want to ruin this experience for his friend but Brandon didn’t feel the same excitement as Elena did. She found it joyous and trembled with happiness when she had first found out. Brandon felt as if he was the opposite. He had merely stayed still, not jumping around as Elena had done, but sat and thought of it as though it was a plan that had to be executed specifically and perfectly. To Brandon, it exactly was that.
This was everything and nothing to Brandon at the same time. It was his way out, his freedom and at the same time it was pain, an apology.
He hadn’t told Elena but he knew exactly what he was going to put in the capsule. Much like his friend, he also had a picture of the pair. Only his was more recent. It was his favourite picture. They both looked so happy it felt eternal. The only thing they had done on the day of the picture is gone to get ice cream but the photo was so much more than that. It seemed to capture their entire friendship in one single snapshot. The photo itself was a time capsule.
The main thing he was going to put in there was a note for Elena. Something that she would get to read in time. An apology.
“Are you sure you won’t tell me what you put in yours, Brandon?”
“I’m sure. Besides, where’s the fun in that? You’d already know what was in it by the time you go to look.”
“You know mine,” she complained.
“I know, but I have a bad memory so I’ll honestly probably forget by Monday. However, you, female Einstein, have practically a photographic memory. I tell you one thing and you remember it forever.”
She quickly smiled, “it’s a gift and a curse.”
The features of his face moved, forming a smile. There was something about Elena. Her energy was contagious. Probably one of the many reasons they had stayed friends all these years. He wondered about that sometimes - the list of reasons to be friends with Elena, that seemed to go on for eternity, but reasons to be friends with Brandon. He couldn’t even think of
one. And he hated it. He wouldn’t be surprised if Elena ditched him at any second, yet he knew she wouldn’t. She never would - yet another thing he loved about her.
He soon lay at home, surrounded by nobody but his thoughts. Brandom breathed in as he finally found the courage to pick up the pen that had been staring him in the face for the last ten minutes. The blankness of the paper was intimidating. He didn’t know what to say, where to start. He had been planning this for weeks, how did he not know? He rested his head in his hands for a few short seconds before he finally recomposed himself, pressing ink to paper.
Dear Elena, I’m sorry.
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