She launches open the front door, slamming it off the wall.
Bolts up the stairs, two at a time.
Her hands clasped tightly,
Held as far away as her arms will let her.
Her head back with a look on her face
As if she were holding a tarantula
She hangs a left and opens the bottom dresser drawer
Little white boxes line the inside
with words written on the tops.
She opens the one labeled ‘Fear’ and throws something inside.
Slamming the drawer shut, she slumps against the wall.
‘Whew, that was scary…’
She breathes heavily and wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead.
‘I should probably lock that one, just in case.’
She grabs a key from the top of the dresser
And opens the bottom drawer again.
The box labeled ‘Fear’ is shaking and the lid lifts just enough to see inside.
Her eyes open wide, she slaps the lid down tightly
And puts the key in the hole, locking it with a quick, hard turn of the wrist.
The box no longer moves.
She takes a deep breath and glances down
At the row of white boxes lined up neatly
The last in the row is covered in dust and the label reads, ‘Love’
She starts to close the drawer, then stops.
Pulling the box out of the drawer, she brushes off a layer of grey
and lifts the lid, but it catches on a latch.
‘Hmm.. I must have locked it.’
She brings the key to the box,
But it won’t turn either way.
She shakes the box and jams the key left and right and left and right.
The Fear box begins to shake.
It rocks back and forth with noises like knocks.
She looks at Fear, then down at the Love she holds in her hands, then back at Fear.
