The thick layer of dust which reminded me of a rat’s fur, tore off the surface of the soft, sand coloured cardboard box as I carefully stroked it with my hands
A roughly written note saying “Harry’s stuff” was untidily taped on the front of the box with tear marks indicative of someone biting off the plastic. I opened it to find a smell of my old life, of pencil sharpenings, old browning papers and rust from the numerous previously shiny things tucked inside. The box was filled to the brim with my entire childhood. The objects pushed against the sides of the cardboard, which threatened to tear. A dead mosquito from a decade ago lay stamped to the one of the top flaps. A few creases on the sides told me that someone had gone through this before.
I picked up a trophy that was at the very top. It shone with the same brilliance as it did when I received it, only it was rusting from the handles now. It was a trophy for my excellence at school. When my teacher handed it to me many years ago, my eyes beamed with pride. I didn’t believe my efforts would ever be recognized, but here they all were, the whole school applauded. A tear dripped down my cheek as I remembered the support I received that day. The fan whirred above me and the buzz of a bee flying about in the distance came into focus.
A polaroid picture caught my eye. The light from the bare bulb reflected off it. The surface was covered with oily fingerprints and smudges. The picture was of me with a girl who was my best friend. I flipped it to see a note written in overly exaggerated loops and hearts for dots. The once sharp corners were now soft from constant rubbing. This friend of mine was no ordinary person. I remembered the great betrayal she delivered to me a year before middle school end. She made sure the whole school made fun of my appearance, my personality. I felt rage build up in me.
I placed the objects back in the cardboard box above a painting I drew. I couldn’t take more of this emotional rollercoaster. I left. The sunny afternoon was at its peak. Children were playing and baby birds strutting about the place. I sat in a corner of the ledge and sulked, haunted by the ghosts of my past
