The Music Box

Father Fate gave to me a box, and went on his way.

Father Fate was, as is his custom, vague with his instructions, and I had no idea when he would be coming to take back the box. Fearing I would grow fond of the toy, I placed it out of sight and out of mind to watch over until fate needed it again.

Time, as is its custom, wore on and the box was still right there, waiting to be explored. I picked it up, felt its weight; it was worth more than I originally thought. I traced my inexperienced fingers along the woodwork, noting each beautiful marking and each unique feature as my fingers described them to me. I thought that surely this was the most well-made, most simply beautiful box I had ever seen.

The box was so beautiful and so strong, and I am always so unsure when Fate comes around; why couldn't he just tell me what to do with this, or if it was an amazing gift for me?!

I played with the box now and again, growing more curious by the day. Was it to look at, to be passed along, to be played with? Was I supposed to give it another, or had fate meant for me to cherish it?

Before long, I had to start exploring for real; the wood looked durable enough for an investigation! It took time, I started asking other people about the box and what it was worth, whether they thought it was meant for me or what the deal was.

And then I knew. The box was ready to be opened the entire time and I just had to open my ears for fate's whisper: I opened the box, ever so gently, to hear the most beautiful, calming, hopeful music in the world. I opened further to see the source of the song that I know I will remember forever and I saw that it was a magic music box.

From inside of this box came a sound of joy like the squeal of a child seeing grandpa after too long.

Inside of this box there was a lower song, one I had to reach so deeply within myself to understand, to even hear, and it was the greatest song ever sung. It was the low, slow, soft voice of love and of permanence, and of commitment. It sang of beauty far beyond this lifetime and comfort for the rest of my time here.

The box taught me so many things about myself: loyalty,love, commitment. The box held my tears and with gentle loving music built me a fortress in which to hide from the cruel world. It became my everything, and I believed in it and cherished it and sang songs in exaltation of my precious, loving, magic box that fate had left for me so long ago.

And then some other dark, Father Fate's eraser of joy, came to me while I was away from my music box. He came to me in my head, in my sleep, in my mind and heart and soul where only I should be. He came to hurt and he came to destroy and he came to take my darling source of joy away from me!

I fought this evil, I fought this drainer of my soul, I fought with all that I had and I failed. I was not strong enough to keep fate's only gift to me safe from evil. I failed myself, I failed the Truths like Honor and Loyalty and Integrity. I slaughtered kindness as I shattered the box across the cold, hard stone. I watched as the beautiful facade crumbled to pieces, I watched as my hero fell right open, spilling out his love for me, draining like the blood of a half-man. I heard a whisper of a song . . .

It might have been in my head; it probably was. But, in my shame, in my exile, I will try to remember the music at least; it is the lethargic blood forcing itself through my weary veins and willing yet another pathetic pump of my heart.

If the story is ever told, is ever passed on to a cold hearted or lonely person, I have no ending.

Both Pandora and I took a risk; mine for love and hers for power. In the end her pride killed her and ruined the world . . . In the end a Holocaust remains of a beautiful relationship, and a shell remains of the goodness that has seeped from my heart; this time Fate didn't need to take back his precious gift: I destroyed it for him.