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My Disturbed Box

Previous short story:
Ouh So Lumpy Me: At Work
Next short story:
So Julie
It was around two hours before midnight that I needed the box. It has been a long time since I last went into the box and I really did not expect that I was going to need the box anymore. Alas, the box was always there. And tonight, the thirteenth night of the second last month, the box succeeds in having me in her, in her claustrophobically small and empty space.

The first event that called me to my box was that I have been oppressed of my own sweet privilege. My privilege of expressing the instant idea wave that I had and put it into words. A few insensible monsters took this privilege away from me with my own machinery. And they, whose laugh and cheers were still taunting me, reducing me to a small white sheet with a few drops of ink to stamp my idea wave. But, this was tolerated because I have to entertain an ogre whose life is a mess that he felt obligated to make mine too. Alas, what a fragile heart I have for such a greedy ogre that I gave him more of my time than I can afford too.

However, months that I have gone through free of the box taught me how to have hope. So, with that single ray of hope, I was dragged out from the comfort of my living space to a rush and scary world out there by the earlier insensible monsters. And if I can put my brain activity in a timeline, there would be a double-layered pattern produced because I was so in love with my idea wave that I was constantly thinking about it but I was very weak in the hands of the monsters. I thought from the double-layered pattern of my brain I started to develop a horrifying pain in my temple. And the pain was highlighted with these plants that have been growing in my chest which I believed is called ‘EMOTIONS’ and they were doing a very good job of calling the box for me.

Oh, how I was overjoyed when it was finally time for the monsters and I to get back to the comfort of our living space. But of course, the monsters’ game always has a catch. The true promise of my living space and my own machinery was procrastinated when they decided without my consent to have a go of their automated legs and leaved me alone and empty by the side of road in the middle of nowhere. I got lucky though that a male from an entirely different species offered to walk me home and try to suppress my brain’s invisible calls of the isolation box. But the power of the box was too much to bear for any mortal being that every words of that male consultation only amplified the call of the box.

When at last, I reached my own four walls of happiness and emptiness, the box have totally conquered me. Its dark wings surrounded these four walls of mine and denied me from my supply of oxygen. And the heat was unbearable it was eating my skin inside out. I tried to grasp the single ray of hope that I had earlier and tried to convince myself that merely by the lovely sight of my machinery, my idea wave would be protected. I even tried to get my lost limbs and bones in a very comfortable shape even though they were already inside the box.

Nevertheless, the condition that I feared most has befallen in this secluded box. That my highest hope of recovering my idea wave was a total waste. As I lied on my curved backbone, staring helplessly at my machinery, the total impact of the box hit me hard on the face and it made me cry furiously. Oh, yes, I did cry. Crying the soundless, empty howl that I did every time I went into the box. However, I was not ready to give up my own war. I took a long last attempt in battling for my loosing idea wave. But as I took a last look at my war, I knew that it has been long gone. If anyone could consider it as a victory, then the victory was as hollow as the seashells. I lost my touch.

In those long painful seconds, I was reminded by a haunted voice I believed to be the voice of the Eye Goddess, of my one and only defense against the box. The only defense I knew have done miracle to me. The only road for me to take to get out of this was to embrace the arms of Morpheus, god of slumber. And slowly I sang a lullaby for my own empty soul. Believing that Morpheus would take away my pain. In between the pointless lullaby lexicon, I could feel the sweet love my Eye Goddess was making with Mr. Morpheus and I felt that the ray of hope that was once lost, was now within my hands again.

Alas, things were not meant to be that simple in this pathetic life of mine. Who would have guess that the power of the isolation box that I have always feared and amazed off, at one point, was also my yearning. I myself would have not realized this if it were not with the help of one thoughtless bloodsucker.

I almost forgot that these four walls, which I would wholeheartedly call mine if only I could, was shared with a tiny little vampire. A teeny-weeny vampire who seldom understand the idea of self-interpretation. As we share the same nest, I forced myself to tolerate all her act of mindlessness even though some of them lead to self-destruction where the box almost made a debut in my life over the last ten months. Most of those events were still vivid in my mind. I was not sure whether it was the result of vengeance or merely the deed of forgiven but not forgotten.

But I was not here in this cold freezing night to talk about the past. I was here to mention the present and possibly reach the future. As I was deep and secure in my arms of Morpheus, the tiny vampire step into the room as her usual self without even consider the fact that she may wake me up from my slumber. I was awaked so abruptly though but it happened countless times that I was not even aware of the politeness issue in the very act. But, my recovery heart tried to take it pleasantly as a wake-up call as I was not in a proper position to have a good rest of the soul.

In my blurred view of light and the darkness, I organized myself as quickly as I could as not to lose the touch of my pillow and I could feel my carnal-self ready to leave the earth again. However, without pity, I was tugged back into this world as abrupt as it can get with a series of shrieks. As my head try to clutch the reality, one of my EMOTIONS plants started to grow alarmingly. The rate of growth was so shocking that I was very afraid of losing myself, of becoming verbally dismantled. I tossed and turned in bed in vain hope trying to knock sense in the little vampire’s head as that I am not comfortable with her shrieks of laughter and shouting but indeed it was in vain.

With the last strength I could mustered, I got out of bed and went to splash some cold water on my feet hoping that please, please understand little night creature that your joy was interrupting my weak soul’s slumber party. In a lost transition of awake and sleeping, I went to one of the monsters’ room feeling that may be I was prepared for them, that I have left my dear old box. But as I went in there and watch both of the monsters were engrossed in their previous mazes of game for the whole two minutes without any of them made a slight notice that I was there, I became totally lost again. I began to feel that I am too small for their monstrosity. To be truthful, I was already bombarded with a little premonition that going into the monster’s room was a total mistake. Until this very second I really could not figure out why I went into the room. Maybe it was guilt or maybe it was somehow a restoration of a stable atmosphere without the box. I would not know but I did know that things are going to be gruesome. I was even prepared for it because my total life has always been hideous when it came to social understandings. But I would never be prepared of how to handle it. Oh, no. It has always been a problem of mine.

As I slammed close the door to the monster’s room, I could feel the power of the box, yanking me back inside. And that was when I realize that maybe I was in need of my fearsome but precious box that I was totally beside myself when the little vampire decided to slash in my cozy isolation box. As the truth hit me on my face, I decided that I was not going to let somebody tramp on my isolation box as they see fit. Not even a tiny little vampire. My isolation box is here to stay until I decided when she should leave.

This sudden step I decided to go for did bring back my isolation box to me all right and I could feel her wings spreading even wider than before. This time the suppressing air was no longer a distraught but of a sense of protection. I could feel my confidence and the sense of self-preservation coming back to me. With that little thread of certainty I decided to have another endeavor on my machinery.

As I dwelled deeper into my layer of heart that was hidden beneath another layer, I could feel my divine and delicate little box gradually lifting her wings up from me. It was in a manner that I understand she was setting me free. As I reach to this part of the story I realize that my ‘Pandora’ box was no evil. I am also in no remorse or annoyance of the departing of my box as I am again in control of my own isolation box. And I can again do one thing that I cannot manage since the first depression suffocate me. I shed tears.
Previous short story:
Ouh So Lumpy Me: At Work
Next short story:
So Julie
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Ungku Laila Hanna Binti Ungku Mohsin

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