Box

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic


A small figure holds the key to their happiness.

Submitted: August 28, 2018

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Submitted: August 28, 2018

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The moment the old door creaked open, all eyes landed on a small figure standing in the doorway. The figure had soft blonde hair slightly above the shoulders, a pair of deep set blue eyes, and was holding a small box. A pair of hands pushed the small figure forward, further into the one room schoolhouse. The sun was already down, the moon’s rays cascaded onto the rather large students sitting in their child sized desks. The teacher was slumped over on her particularly messy desk, sleeping peacefully. The small figure walked forward, approaching the sleeping teachers desk. As the figure stepped forward, into the moon’s light, the box reflecting a soft glow. On the side of the box, in velvet letters was the word, “Tomorrow”, written in perfect calligraphy. The schoolhouse was dead quiet, no one moved, no one except the sleeping teacher took their eyes off the small figure. All at once, the candles surrounding the room were blown out. The figure placed the cube shaped box on the teacher’s desk and quickly left. The box opened itself up and a small ballerina on her tiptoes rose out of the box and began to spin slowly along to the rhythm of a slow sweet song. Slowly the sun began to rise above the high mountains in the distance, signaling the early morning to all living and non binary things that lived in the deep set valley. A moment later the large, adult sized  children turned into small, curious youngsters. The teacher sat up and blinked a few times. As their lesson begun, one of the children looked out the schoolhouse windows and saw a figure in the distance about the size of a young woman. She had long blonde hair that blanketed her neck beautifully. The figure turned around and saw the young child gawking at her. She put a finger to her lips, smiled and vanished with a gust of wind, filled with orange, red, and yellow coloured leaves. In her place, an oak tree seed began to grow. The wind smelled like fresh apples. The student smiled and closed the window. She looked back at the teacher’s desk and was confused. The little box was gone and in its place was an oak leaf dipped in gold on a small plaque with the word, “Tomorrow”, below it. The child smiled and opened her notebook to page 167.


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