so, ten years ago, my brother moved in here with my mom and I. It was only supposed to be temporary. Like a year.
When he moved in, a lot of my things got displaced because he had to have his own room and I had to now share my moms room.
Many of my things, irreplaceable things, things with sentimental value, were placed in a storage unit that my brother was paying for.
Fast forward to today, when I bit the bullet and asked him if my things were still being stored anywhere. In the back of my head, way deep down in my heart, I already knew the answer that I got.
My things are forever gone because he couldn’t keep up with the payments. So my things got Storage War’ed .
A computer desk that my mother bought me and assembled with my niece when I was away on vacation as a birthday present. It wasn’t anything fancy, but the fact that when I got home, there was this cool new desk for my computer just waiting for me in my room, well, I loved it.
Various stuffed animals that I had collected over the years, some of which were gifts. One of them was a talking Eeyore. It was awesome.
A bag FULL of Star Trek: TNG action figures that I had bought and collected. One of them was a Guinan doll, with a scratch down her arm, right out of the factory that way. Stuff like that can add value for collectors.
And boxes full of various books.
My old computer, and I mean OLD. It was old ten years ago.
There may have been more, but those are the things I remember.
Anyway, he told me he felt bad about it and asked me if there was any way he could compensate for anything I lost, anything he could do to make up for it.
After a few minutes of pondering, I told him about the actions figures.
I told him there were 10 of them(I’m sure there were more), and that I paid $5 for each one of them.
So he told me he’d give me $50 for them in about a week.
I was going to sell them anyway.
I just hate that my things are gone.
But they’re just things, right?