The Shoe BoxMature

I walk down to my room and close the door behind me, Kelly had my back and said I could talk with her in our session today since I'd be more comfortable there. I go into the hidden crawl space that is concealed by my bed, I grab a shoe box, the shoe box, I had separated the shoe box into two sections by a scrap of cardboard. One side was labeled good, the other bad. The good was filled with things I had repeatedly snuck into the hospital when Josh, my boyfriend, or Nicole, my best friend,  had come to visit, the other side however was filled with "gifts" that had showed up on my desk in my room. I am certain they are from my father, a creepy porcelain doll who's neck had been snapped where short notes in his handwriting had been stuffed into. Along with the doll and notes was a thin razor, it was inscribed with the words "give in", and finally my favorite locket with a picture of my mother and I, sent in pieces and the picture missing. 

To the good side of the shoe box now contained a small notebook Kelly had snuck to me where I could write my feelings and not have them monitored, she had told me to look at the good in life and I always came to the shoe box. A ticket stub from the drive in movie theatre to see "Finding Nemo" with Josh, a teddy bear he had given to me, a handwritten note, and a ring... all of them were from him, then safely hidden in a secret compartment was a disposable cell phone. I dialed the familiar number.

"I can talk for a while"

The End

3 comments about this story Feed