Forever. 

It seems like its a long time; people don't know that it could last less than a second. I didn't know. I thought forever meant this endless amount of time. That it meant years and years to come. 

But it's not. Forever can mean less than a second. In less than a second you can feel eternal. Less than a second can make a lifetime. 

We know that nothing lasts forever. Friendships break, people die, memories fade, and the world will eventually burst into a ball of flames. But even if we understand that things wont last forever, we want to hold onto them for just a little longer. 

I've done it. You've done it. Everyone at one point in there life has wished for something to stay the same. I wished not to move, for my friendships not to break when I did. For my brother to come back. 

My mother had wished for my brothers life to last a little longer. 

And my brother. He used to wish for the light to stay a little longer everyday. He got his own room in the hospital; and he had a big window on one side, and every morning he would be up to watch the sun, and every night he would watch it go down, pleading for just a few extra seconds. 

None of us knew why he loved the day and dreaded the night. My mother thought that maybe he was afraid of the dark again. I didn't think so. I didn't know for sure, but I thought he dreaded the night because he was afraid he wouldn't be alive for the next sunrise. 

I never shared that theory with anyone else though. I just kept it to myself. Mostly because I knew it would hurt my mother to hear it, and because I didn't know if my brother even knew if that was why he hated the night, and I didn't want to upset him while he was so sick.  And my friends didn't wan't to hear about weird theories I made up concerning my dying brother. 

Or maybe I just didn't feel like telling them anything. Or talking to them at all really. I didn't talk to anyone but my brother and my mom the last few months before he died. Maybe because I hated everyone else for how healthy they were, how lively and spirited, when my brother was so frail. So small and helpless and ill. 

I hated every healthy person while he was sick. Including myself. But I also hated that we all knew he wasn't going to make it. Sure my mother liked to cling to the hope. And Jacob was too young for anyone to tell him he wasn't going to survive. But deep down we all knew. We knew that he was too sick for too long to get better. But the worst part was that it felt like forever. Like he was sick forever. It was such a drawn out time, that year and a half of him slowly dying. Eventually, it felt more like it had been forever since he was healthy instead of feeling like forever since he got sick. There is a difference.

He died on April twenty-third. 4:15 p.m. at just six years old. My mother hadn't been at the hospital while it happened.

I had.

It's been six weeks since Jacob died. We had the funeral, a mourning period; and now my mother had decided that it's time to move on. 

It happened too fast; her telling me we were moving. She had come into my room on a Thursday afternoon, I was writing an English paper, and her eyes looked red and puffy from crying. I didn't have to look at my own face anymore to know that mine were too. It's one of the side effects from crying yourself to sleep at night, and then waking up and crying before you have to leave your house and go into the world. A place where you cant cry. 

She was looking at me as if she didn't even know who I was. Honestly, I didn't know who I was anymore. It was the same way I looked at myself everyday. 

She sat on my bed, and in a very soft, very gravelly voice she told me we were moving. 

I wanted to argue. I wanted to kick and scream and tell her we couldn't leave Jacob's cold little body here buried under the earth all alone. I wanted to. But I didn't have the energy anymore. I could feel my eyes going vacant, fell the dull thrum of nothingness settling in. Staying close to where Jacob had been in life; that had kept me going. Taking walks by his school and sitting in his room and looking at his Lego sets. That was the best part of my day. 

But I had no control here. I was a child. Besides, I didn't know what it felt like to her. I had lost a brother; but she had lost a child.

All I had asked is when we were to leave. She had told me two weeks. Its been one and three days. Only four days left of living in Austin Texas before we moved over to Louisiana's New Orleans. 

I hadn't really started packing yet. I had sorted things into piles and I helped pack the living room and kitchen away, and I had decided which of Jacob's things we should keep and which we should donate. Most of his cloths were going to charity. But I had kept his Seattle Mariners hat. We had been there once two years ago to visit our Uncle John. he had taken Jacob to a game and bought him the hat. It was one of the last things we did before Jacob got sick. 

I also kept a small Aloe Vera plant from his room, I had been the one to get it for him for his birthday this year. He had loved it. Put it right next to his big open window. 

I grabbed his blanket too, for mom to keep. She had been the one to make it for him when he was born and for the first two years of his life he would scream bloody murder if he didn't have it. 

I had packed up the rest of his things and gave them to charity's. They would be other kids's. Holding no trace of Jacob after no time at all. 

I was texting my friend Molly when my mom came into the room. 

" Clary!" My mother exclaimed. " You've barely started packing! The movers will be here in three days and you need to actually have things in boxes so it can go into the U-Haul." 

I sighed. " Yeah. Yeah I know I'll get to it." 

My mother sighed. " Not packing wont make us postpone the move. It'll just make me have to do it all for you." 

" I'll do it." I said. " I'm not avoiding it I've just been busy with Jacob's room. I'll start tonight." 

As soon as his name left my lips my mothers face had changed. Just for an instant. But in less than a second her face had shown just how broken she was. For less than a second the clear despair was layed out before me to see. She was hurting. She had lost a child but didn't want the other one to see how shattered she was. 

It had lasted less than a second but it had felt like forever. Her face replayed again and again in my head. It was like going to the fair and seeing every girl wearing the same thing, I was seeing my mother with that same face over and over. It was like I couldn't see any other version of her. Couldn't remember another if I tried. 

" Okay." She said before she left my room and closed the door softly behind her. 

I looked down at my phone. There was another text from Molly but I couldn't focus enough to read it. 

I couldn't be in this house anymore. It was like I was suffocating. 

I pulled on my white converse and headed for the door, grabbing my bag and my phone on the way out. By the weight of the bag I could tell that it had a book in it. I just couldn't remember which. 

I hesitated a second before I grabbed my camera bag. I hadn't taken  photo since Jacob died. But to be honest every waking moment I could feel the itch to press down the button and take a picture. 

" I'm heading out for a while!" I called out to my mom. 

" Be back by ten!" She called after me. 

" I will!" I called back before heading out of the house. 

I walked down the street to the cafe where I had written most of my school papers. They had the best coffee in town. Beats Starbucks hands down. 

I sat there for a while. I sipped my coffee and ate half of my gigantic chocolate chip cookie and pulled the book I had in my bag out. It ended up being the first Percy Jackson book. The one I was going to start reading to Jacob. We had never even gotten the chance to start. 

I opened the book, scanning the pages. I was on page seventy four before I looked up, realizing where I was. That I wasn't in a book and there were no demigods or evil monsters or summer camp for the children of  Gods. 

I sighed, slipping the book into my bag and standing up. I had long ago finished my coffee and it had evidently been cleared from the table. 

There was another cookie sitting on my plate. One I hadn't ordered, but I assumed the girl behind the counter that gave me a small smile had set it there so I thanked her after I wrapped my cookie up and set it in my bag to be eaten later. 

I sighed as I looked at my camera bag. Checking first to make sure all my lenses were in there, and then I texted my friend Bri. 

She was pretty much the embodiment of a 'forest girl'. Or at least that's what she told me once. I found it ironic because she had spent her entire life in Texas but she said it with such confidence that you couldn't even try to question her.  She was a little short, had chocolaty brown hair and she had freckles. She was also extremely photogenic and had no problem being in front of a camera. 

I sighed while I texted her. 

 Can you meet me by Freeman Lake? And bring a few changes of cloths that look ' forest girl-y' please. I need a few pictures taken and your pretty much perfect for the shoot I want to do.  

She replied only two minutes later. 

Sure I would love to. I'll be there in 20. 

I walked out the door and back in the direction of my house. I don't know why I walked all the way to the lake but it was calming. 

I got there just before Bri did. She was wearing a long white dress and green and gold bracelets with brown sandals. I noticed she had a bag overflowing with cloths to change into to. 

She really did love being in front of the camera. 

I sighed again. Time to take some pictures. 

Bri's photos looked amazing. She had so much fun with it, dressing up acting like completely different people for most of the photos. Serious, silly, but the best ones were ones I took while she was just being herself. 

I had a lot of fun too. I didn't realize how much I missed this. Taking pictures. It was a huge part of my life before Jacob died. 

We looked through all the photos together. Bri had me promise to send her a lot of them. She loved putting pictures I took of her on her Instagram. Said she loved that she had pictures better than everyone else. 

I always told her it was fine as long as she tagged me and gave me photo credit. Besides what was I going to do with them? I just loved taking them. 

" You know." Bri said as we were leaving. " You should have an Instagram account for all the pictures you take of people. They're really good; you could totally get people to pay to to take pictures of them."
 

" Yeah." I said. " I don't think so." 

" Come on why not? You're so good at taking these pictures. You genuinely enjoy it, and you could get money." 

I thought about it. " Maybe. Maybe one day. But not right now. I'm too busy, besides we're moving. To take pictures of people I need to actually be where they are. I don't know anyone in New Orleans." 

Bri smiled. " You'll meet people. Take their pictures and then start making a name for yourself. Then you just start charging for it." 

I mean..... it wouldn't be a horrible idea. I am good at taking these photos. Besides; it wouldn't hurt to make some money. 

I smiled at Bri. " Yeah." I said. " That could work. I'll send you a link when I get the profile up." 

She hugged me suddenly. " I'm going to miss you." She said. " Not just for pictures." 

I hugged her back. " I'll miss you too. Not just for pictures." 

She laughed and squeezed me hard before letting go. " Want to have lunch tomorrow? A last hurrah?" 

I smiled. " Sure.  Golden City at one?" 

Bri smiled and nodded.  " I'll see you there."