She sits on the fading beige carpet of her bedroom in trepidation, a slight wave of fear crawling up her spine.
It’s been years since she’s rifled through the never-ending contents of her two memory chests. Years since she lovingly placed each movie ticket, each receipt, and each clothing tag in its own proper place. She feels uncertain as to what memories she will face. Perhaps a figurine that prompts a vision from the zoo at seven years old? Or maybe a rusting necklace that reminds her of the sweet, slow decay of adolescence.
Whatever she may find, she knows that it is inevitable that she will soon find salted tears cascading down her chin.
The first box she has in front of her primarily contains the memories of when she was eight to twelve years old. She remembers the very day she received the casket itself in the mail, the excitement of finally having something to store her precious trinkets in. Even though it was a simple, indigo paper box with an intricate lattice pattern on the outside, she trembled in anticipation, holding it up for the first time. She proceeded to skip down the stairs to her room, box in tow.
She vividly recalls dumping piles of random knick-knacks onto her closet floor, taken from many drawers filled to the brim. Items such as old slime containers and unused keychains she confidently purchased as a young girl. A jump rope, a tote bag from Lincoln Park Zoo, and tender cards written to her on holidays fluttering to the ground.
It’s been years since she’s rifled through the never-ending contents of her two memory chests. Years since she lovingly placed each movie ticket, each receipt, and each clothing tag in its own proper place.
As she marveled at the extreme mess she already made in about three seconds, she noticed a glimmer of silver sparkling in her peripheral vision. Turning slowly, she bent down and picked the item up. A wide grin broke her already cheerful expression as the first memory rushed into her consciousness.
As she walked down an unknown cobblestone path in southern Italy, she saw a gaggle of interested tourists gathered around an unassuming stall. Since she was also a tourist and a curious girl at heart, she joined the group to investigate. To her delight, she found a man constructing necklaces. She always loved jewelry, as it made her feel glamorous. She watched intently as the man magically welded a thin strip of silver into the name of the current customer.
Enchanted by the gorgeous charm, she asked her dad to help her order a necklace. Upon arriving at the front of the stall, the kind man asked her to write her name on a piece of paper, so he could expertly twine the silver into her precise signature. Delighted by this extra detail, she made sure to write her name in her best cursive, complete with a heart on the end for a flourish.
Nodding in approval, the man picked up a brand new stick of silver and placed it gently between two small wrenches. She looked on in awe as he skillfully molded the shimmering silver into her name: Maylee.
She returns to the present moment, gasping in the shock of reliving two memories at once. She clutches her chest tightly as tears begin to prick the inner corners of her eyes. Deciding not to delay the further inescapable recollections, she picks up the lid of the small paper box and peers inside.
