The blistering hot summer had given way to a freezing winter as if autumn wasn't significant enough to be part of the year.
I sat in my bedroom, on my bed, looking out the window.
Everyone in my house had long since gone to bed; even my brother which was strange because I swear he is nocturnal. He doesn't sleep at night, only a few hours in the early morning. He doesn't actually sleep during the day. He just doesn't sleep.
Tonight, I remained awake.
I watched a small gust of wind pick up some fallen leaves and carry them down the road.
I hated my bedroom. I much preferred my brother's. It was a smaller room than mine, but cosier and far better decorated. I picked up my pillow and duvet and trekked out of my room and into my brother's. I set them down on the floor beside his bed and curled up.
His carpet was thick and black, his walls were painted white but not an inch of wall nor ceiling could be seen, as everywhere was plastered with posters.
Posters of the greats, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, Dave Grohl, Steven Tyler, Slash... there were band posters, Nirvana, The Ramones, Foo Fighters, AC/DC, Aerosmith, Manic Street Preachers... and then there were the posters of the new generation, My Chemical Romance, Paramore, All Time Low, 30 Seconds to Mars...
I felt a tap on my shoulder and almost screamed.
My brother laughed.
"Callum! You scared the living hell out of me!" I hissed.
"Technically that doesn't make any sense, as there is no hell within you and nor is it living... but I understand what you mean. What are you doing on my floor?" he asked.
"Going to sleep. I like your room better than mine." I whispered.
"Don't sleep on the floor, dozy. Come up here." he said, and rolled over. I grabbed my pillow and slid into his bed.
I dreamt that I was at a concert. I battled to the front of the crowd and looked at who was performing. Callum was on stage, playing his guitar and singing into the mic. The crowd started chanting his name as he went into a guitar solo. I felt a wave of emotion, I was so proud! Being in a rock band was Callum's dream.
I woke up when Callum pulled the bed covers off me. Mum had been in the room, leaving two cups of now stone-cold tea on the bedside table along with an envelope.
"Morning Cal. Did you sleep alright?" I asked, rubbing my eyes against the brightness of daylight.
"Yeah, once you stopped snoring." he said.
"I so do not snore!" I said indignantly, throwing my pillow at him. He laughed. I opened the envelope, it contained a note from mum saying she and dad had gone to work (even though it was a Saturday). It also contained a shopping list and a ten pound note.
"What do you want for breakfast bro?" I asked him.
"I can make my own breakfast!"
"Yes Cal, you haven't gone near the oven in over five years and the last time you did you nearly set my hair on fire... do you want the usual fry-up?" I stated.
"Cheers sis, I'm going to jump in the shower."
I went back into my bland room to grab my dressing gown. I looked around at the boring space. White walls, white ceiling, white carpet, white furniture... the only thing in my room I truly loved was the picture that hung on my wall of me and Callum. It had been taken at the beach in Southend, a few days before he'd gone on a three month trip to America two years ago. He had gone with a group of friends to see some of their favourite bands in concert, and then they had gone to a few States sight-seeing. Me and Callum had always been close, but those three months apart had made us even closer. In my bedside cabinet I had all the souvenirs he'd bought me, signed band t-shirts and models of places like the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty.