Of letters and VHS tapes.

Of Power Outages and Metal Boxes.

She was all ready for a night of hanging out in her apartment, watching cheesy chick flicks that made her cry and then laughing at herself afterwards for being such a girl. The tissues were on the couch next to a fuzzy blanket, there was buttery popcorn to her left and ice cream to her right. The moment was perfect. But then again, fate was against her. As the opening title of The Lion King faded off the screen the lights flickered off, the TV ceased to buzz, and she was surrounded by an eerie silence. She looked around for a second before groaning and unwrapping herself from the warm embrace of her blanket and reluctantly standing up.

She had never been one to be afraid of the dark and this was no exception. She bravely ventured out into the dark, stumbling around until her clumsy hands found a small flashlight. When the small beam of light turned on she walked out of her apartment door, down three flights of stairs and into the cold, damp basement. Not even thinking to call the landlord, she set out to find the router so she could reset the power, involuntarily shivering as she passed numerous spider webs and dusty boxes.

Clang!

She let out a yelp as her foot came in contact with a metal box; a small metal box that her flashlight had not picked up in its light. Gingerly kneeling down, trying not put any weight on her injured foot, she picked up the box and placed in on a rotting table next to her and, when curiosity got the best of her, opened it. It was cluttered and stuffed to the brim with what she saw as meaningless junk. She then wrote it off as unimportant and closed the box, leaving it there so she could assume her original task of turning the power back on.

As she continued on her mind continuously traveled back to the box and why someone could have possibly wanted to keep it down here, in the "Land of Forgotten Things". It didn't seem to be of much worth, so why not throw it away? And how had it possibly escaped the annual yard sale, when everyone, even Ms. Johnson and her thirteen copies of A Tale of Two Cities, came together to clean out the basement and get rid of useless junk, such as that box.

When she was finally able to figure out what was wrong with the power and it was up and running again, she passed by the box again. It sure didn't look like much with a rusted green exterior and an old leather handle; but it called out to her.

What could possibly be inside?

What secrets could it hold?

See she was a journalist and curiosity was in her job description. Sometimes those characteristics followed her home. Most of the time it only got her into trouble, like how she always has to try to figure out what her Christmas presents are. She'd done that enough times to know that her mother is not one to piss off during the holiday season. However, it could also cause her great heart break. She has also made the mistake of following her now ex-boyfriend when she got suspicious, and she had caught him cheating on her.

So, yes, she was well aware that wanting to know exactly what was inside the box may or may not end badly, but she just couldn't help herself. She stared at the old box for another second or two and then decided that she could probably take a look inside while she was in the comfortable confines of her apartment room. Using both hands to pick it up, she started walking for the stairs but was interrupted by a creak of the door.

She then quickly ducked behind a large wooden crate, she may not be afraid of the dark but she had watched enough NCIS and Criminal Minds and she knew what could happen in a basement at night. Footsteps gradually got closer and closer but then they took a sharp turn and exited down a narrow hall that led to the router, the same router that she had just reset less than a minute ago.

Taking this as her cue to leave she sprinted up the stairs and then up some more stairs and then down a long hallway and down another shorter hallway and to her apartment door before she realized that she had dropped her keys. She then ran up the shorter hallway and up the longer hallway and down half a flight of stairs before seeing her keys but she also heard the same foot steps moving towards the stairs that she was on. Frantically she made her way towards her room, not even pausing to think about how conspicuous this would look to the average person.

Her mind was only focused on escaping whatever entity lurked in the darkness. Wether it be friend or foe, she wasn't prepared for an impromptu meeting with anyone tonight.

Once she was inside the door she slamed it shut and slid down against it, the box still in her hands which were shaking due to the adrenaline rush. But then she started to laugh. First it was small giggles and then soft chuckles but it soon turned into gut-wrenching, stomach-aching, abs-creating laughter. She just couldn't believe that what had just happened was actually real. She thought it must be some sort of dream.

She look at the lump of metal she just sprinted up and down hallways and stair cases for, the lump of metal that she out-ran a possible serial killer for, "Oh, you better be worth it."