100 rooms

Gran's box

I ran over my luggage for what felt like the last time. I had to cram everything possible into my tiny suit case. But every time I did this I thought about something else that I might need. For I knew that whatever I left, I left for ever. Unless by some miracle my flat didn't get blown up. Finally I think I had the right stuff. I looked around my room. Pretty much empty. Under the bed? No. In the draws? Definitely not. I think I am all set to go. Away. Woah. Really properly away. Hang on. Just one last thing. I walked over to the end of the bed and crouched down. Forcing my chewed finger nails into the gap, I tried to lift up one of the floor boards. It took a few attempts; I used to have longer finger nails, but eventually I had pulled up one of the gnarly old planks. There I kept the most precious object in my life. My Grandma's box. Gran's box. She had given it to me on my tenth birthday. Three days before she died. Three days before I lost my smile. Three days before my life ended.

But let the past be in the past. Right now I don't have time for it.

The box was made of polished Ash and carved in it was my name. The latch was made of fine, misty metal and although the box was old, it was not stiff or rusty in any way. I opened it with that familiar pop it always made. When the lid lifted I was hit with that glorious smell of happy times from long ago. It's the smell that always made Gran say: "Why it smells like my childhood." And that always made me jealous. I wish my childhood had smelt like that. Inside the box was what looked like a folded blanket but when I took it out and shook the dust off it, you could see it was a long black cloak. The cloak came from the countryside a little way away. My Gran's friend had made it as a wedding present and Gran had loved it so much she made a box for it. When she died she said on her will she wanted me to have it. I almost never took it out, it was far to beautiful to wear and anyway, it brought back sad memories. But now it was time for a change. I swung it over my shoulders like Gran had always done and fastened it, pulling the warm hood over my head. It felt... Right.

Closing the door behind me, I looked up at my flat for the last time. It was one of those moments when you don't know how to react. Should I be happy to finally be free of this place? Or maybe I should cry, I've spent the majority of my life here. I don't know. I just don't know. I turned away.

And I never looked back.