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A Situational Dilemma

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Perhaps life wasn't meant to be exciting. If this is what exciting means, I'd prefer to never encounter it again. Boring isn't bad, Gordie thought to himself, a loud voice frantic in his head. Gordie had been trying to think of something to write, where to begin, so he lazily doodled on the paper hoping it might jolt some inspiration into him. It in fact did not do that, unless you consider lulling off to sleep inspiration. 

Gordie heavily preferred writing over sleeping, seeing as dreams weren't exactly the best place for him. Often he found his mind prying open the can of worms that was his brother. His mind had difficulties putting the worms back into the can, they would burrow into a sensitive area of his consciousness and he would be incapable of digging his brother out of his thoughts for weeks. 

Writing helped. Often if he were writing as he fell asleep he could avoid the brother worms for the most part. This time was different though, often the daydreams were much more obscure than ones he had at night with his pencil clutched in his hand as he dozed off. This would be one of those daydreams--daymares? Gordie was unsure of what he would classify it as, just that it caught him off guard and bothered him to his core. 

Gordie, a voice spoke to him softly as he came to himself within the dream, he looked up to lock eyes with Chris, his best friend. This dream had been so vivid to Gordie, he remembered things that shouldn't even be existing within the dream, such as his thoughts throughout the whole thing. Chambers, he thought, my parents shuddered even at the thought of the boy. They could never understand what I do, what I have seen this boy do. He is passionate and courageous, he has never once backed down when it meant helping one of us. He is humorous and forgiving, everything they wanted. Everything they wish I was. Everything Denny was and everything I could never be. He was my ideal... His thoughts had trailed off as Chris spoke up again.

"Gordie, y'know?" His voice sounded like powdered sugar, soft and sweet, it melted into the air, causing any qualms to dissipate. Chris did not focus on a response from Gordie, and continued speaking, "I wish everyday could be like this one." Gordie began to look around, for the first time taking in the surroundings. In my room. On my bed. He never comes over? My parents once even turned him away while it was storming outside. They're blind to the world around them, not even noticing whenever I left with a giant bag of blankets and pillows, plus a change of clothes for the both of us. Flash. There they were, in the treehouse, the aforementioned bag sitting next to Gordie. I was soaked by the time I made it there, but seeing Chris clinging to himself up against a wall of the room made me know it was worth it. Gordie shivered, he was soaked? Chris was as well but he seemed unfazed. "It doesn't matter what situation we're in, I'm just glad to be with you." Gordie looked up quickly, his eyes trailing from the bag over to his friend that was still completely soaked.

 "Are you cold?" Left Gordie's mouth without a second thought, a shiver running through his spine as he realized the chill the wind was creating through his dripping clothes. Chris nodded and Gordie fumbled with the giant bag, pulling out a change of clothes for each of them as well as two giant comforters. Gordie and Chris quickly ripped off their clothes to replace them with the new dry ones. They were warm against their skin and left the exposed pieces of skin still shivering. Gordie looked over at Chris after he was done changing and stifled a laugh, "sorry," he croaked out. Chris stood there in a pair of pajama pants and a shirt that was obviously too small for him as it exposed some of his stomach. Gordie held out one of the comforters to Chris and he took it with a smile, sitting down against the wall and draping it over himself; Gordie did the same.

After a few minutes of silence, Chris still shivered next to Gordie. "Do you need this one too?" Gordie questioned, gently tugging at his own comforter. Chris shook his head, mouthing a thank you. He's shivering, Gordie. Well, to be fair I'm still shivering as well. Gordie looked at Chris shake gently under his comforter and he scooted closer, causing Chris to look up curiously. A noise of questioning left Chris' mouth, but Gordie scooted closer still, until they were touching. "Here," he said, stacking their comforters on top of each other, "now we can be wrapped in both." Chris' face shone a bit in the moonlight that crept in through the makeshift window of the treehouse, he was smiling. Gordie smiled back. 

They sat there for a few minutes, just smiling at each other, the presence of the other illuminated by the glow of the moon. Gordie felt something touch his hand and he jolted up a bit, the wood creaked as his body landed back down on it. "Sorry," stated Chris sheepishly. Gordie gave a perplexed look to his best friend as he looked off at some dark spot in the room. Chris looked down, but Gordie didn't stop looking at him, and he felt something touch his hand again, it was warm, and a little rough. 

Gordie looked down at Chris' hand lying on his own. He didn't say anything, but instead, took Chris' hand and laced their fingers together. They sat like that for some time, it was comforting.

And then Gordie was asleep, but rather than another dream, he was waking up, groggily lifting his head from his notebook, fingers still wrapped around his pencil. He ran his hand over his face, the same hand that was holding Chris'. He jolted from his seat and stumbled back, landing on his ass and smacking his head against his bed frame. 

He mumbled profanities under his breath as he got up and went back to his seat. I suppose it's time to write.