Looking down at the broken toy, with great sadness she began to cry. She’s stared at it for far too long, but still can’t pull herself away. Everything she thought she knew and everything she felt was real suddenly shattered. With cruel reality engulfing her in seemingly endless woe, she struck the wall of her bedroom in her rage. She took a step back and glanced into the mirror that lay on her dresser. “I’m a mess,” she thought. “.. A mess too big to be cleaned, an utter disaster bursting at the seams. No one could truly love me.” Her face was puffed up and red, her eyes bulging, her nose runny and unpredictable, her hair a tangled monstrosity, and the trails of her tears clearly illustrated in a slightly diluted black dripping down her face. She never found herself to be of the attractive sort but in this moment more than ever did she truly feel to be a sore sight. Then she looked at the wall, a jagged gash staring back at her. There were feelings of emptiness followed by pain when she had realized her knuckles were now bruised with some open wounds. “Why?” She said aloud, her voice cracking in desperation. She once again turned her attention to the toy. It was once a lovely music box. A music box handcrafted to fit her personalized desires. It sang a beautiful tune that echoed love in the air and made time stand still. Alas, now dingy and faded the magic is gone. To her, he was a dream come true. He showed her a world of no limits and feelings she couldn’t comprehend. She trusted him with things she held dear, things she hadn’t trusted with anyone else. It was the night of a school dance when he told her he loved her. She fell so hard she couldn’t see any possible way to get back up, although at the time she felt no urgency to do so. His words enticed her whole being and she fell victim in his trap. She gave him one thing she could never get back, her innocence. After feeling satisfied he got up and began getting dressed. She was confused and from here on things changed. To him, she was nothing more than an easy win. He saw opportunity, a foolish naïve girl willing to fall into the arms of anyone claiming to be there to catch her. He had good fun with it too. She pleaded with him to stay but he laughed at the very thought. He told her the box was actually something he found in a thrift shop; a mere con he’d play on the first girl willing to throw herself at him. “Congrats kid, you were the lucky gal to get in on this.” He smirked “For someone who claimed to be a virgin, you sure were easy. Here, nice doing business with ya.” He tossed a couple dollars her way and began to walk out. She sat there stunned and speechless. Suddenly she grabbed the music box and flew it his way. He ducked and rolled his eyes “Feisty, save it for next time will ya?” Now here she was, with that broken music box of empty promises. It was fallen apart and dead of life and sound. She was unsure of what love meant. She went to bed and tucked herself in tightly gripping her teddy bear. She put her night-light on and dreamt of a simpler time, trying to put off the inevitable tomorrow and imagine a world without broken music boxes.
