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A Sea of Boxes
I stood naked with the walls, drowning in a sea of boxes which had been marked with memories I’d hoped to soon forget.
The silence was unsettling and it reminded me of a time once dressed in a certain careless youth—a casual existence
marked with exposed toes and endless aspirations. I looked around and soon realized I had lost myself within these
walls. The horrible prospect of being devoured by a cold and discolored monster made my stomach turn. Yet I had
abandoned by youth quite some years ago, and most of me had come to terms with that. I will be the first to admit
that my childhood was scarcely worse than most, but maybe that’s what got to me. For one last time I sat down
on that mangy rug in the center of the room, allowing for the walls to judge me. I let the covers fall
upon my eyes until I became lost in the mind of child. She felt him touch her, his skin felt clammy
and warm, so real it made her cringe. A thin voice dangled before her, taunting—no—teasing her.
She looked away as if she could simply ignore it, but it guided her closer towards it.
She accepted his word relentlessly, trusting an age which far exceeded her own.
She stared mindlessly at the light pink walls, and watched the unicorn paper slowly tear itself away;
the pattern underneath it terrified her. She felt her innocence coil and rot. A nasty stench of damp
and decaying wood surrounded her. She imagined sand between her toes. A honk bounced between the empty walls,
and the small child ran away. I stood up and suddenly the exit, which just moments ago
invited me over, felt distant. I could barely hear the laughter which bellowed out of its small,
narrow mouth. A strange man then emerged from the daunting maw. His smile was unfamiliar, but
friendly. One by one he lifted my memories out of the room. I was amazed as the sea dried from
under me. I walked freely across the dry sand towards the door. I looked around for my shoes,
but figured they must have been locked up in one of the boxes. I was not deterred. I don’t
think I will need them where I am going.
Brittani Ann Conner is an amateur writer who is currently entering her second year
at Thompson Rivers University, working towards a BA with a major in Contemporary Literature.
She has always expressed a keen passion for art which she hopes to share with others through her writing.
Email: Brittani Ann Conner
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