The Box With Yellow Labels
(A/N: I tried writing a story fable-style and this is how it turned out. Not my greatest piece, I confess. Hope you enjoy none the less.)
Trigger Warning: Mention Of Death/Nightmares/Grieving From The Passing Of A Loved One
We set a scene known by many; feared by all.
A father and son gather around a hospital bed as night closes in.
Death lingers just about the corner.
"My son."
"Yes?"
The boy leans into his father to hear his soft words.
"I have little time left here, my son."
"Papa, no. Don't say those things. You-"
The father interrupts, stubborn till five feet below and then some.
"Listen."
The son pushes away the tears that linger, intent on hearing his words.
"There are ten boxes upstairs. Inside of each box, there is a tag. I want you to look through them after I've gone and find the box with yellow labels."
The father clears his throat.
"I wanted to give it to you once you'd become a man, but I fear there will be no such day."
Tears spill from the father, running down his face until they've stopped at his neck.
"My love."
The mother now walks in holding three cups of tea, eyes puffy.
"We mustn't let your father get too weary now. We should all get a good nights rest."
The son looks up with hesitance.
"Do we have to go?"
She smiled and shakes her head 'no'.
"The nurse lent me some blankets for the night."
Many words go unsaid but they aren't needed, as all three knew why they were spending the night.
When the sun comes rises, the father is gone.
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Three weeks pass when the son remembers what his father had told him.
It comes to him in a dream; waking in a cold sweat.
Outside, rain pours from the heavens as Earth weeps.
Tugging on a black sweater, the son makes his way up the dusted stairs.
What was up there?
A box with yellow labels.
Box. Yellow labels.
These words kept replaying in the son's head as he reached the top.
As he opened the door, the mother stepped out of her room at the noise.
"Baby? Where are you-"
It was then that she saw the tears in her son's eyes.
"Nightmares?"
The son did not answer, only turning towards the attic once more.
"He told me. Told me to look up here. When he- after-"
The mother nodded knowingly, not needing any more explanation.
"Come on. I'll come with you. We can look together."
Taking his hand, mother and son walked into the attic together.
Indeed, in the corner, there were ten cardboard boxes stacked up against the wall.
"There. He told me to look there."
Mother and son sit down beside the boxes, together still.
Box number one.
Box number one had a pack of playing cards from high school.
The father was an excellent magician.
Each card was worn around the edges but still mostly in shape.
Lime Green Labels
They set that box to the side to keep.
Box number two.
Number two had a book holding pressed flowers.
The mother choked upon seeing these as they once picked for her on a sunny picnic, years prior.
Various roses and lilies hand-plucked for a fair maiden back in 84.
Dark Green Labels
Mother set that box beside her for safekeeping.
Box three.
Three was filled with comic books from father's childhood.
Captain Americas and Iron Men flooded the floor as the ancient papers fell freely from their home.
The son gasped loudly and made sure to flip through each page before setting the book beside him.
Turquoise Label.
Box Four.
Four had Grandma's pearls.
They still shone from the generations before.
Baby Blue label.
Five.
Five had wedding vows and love poems.
The mother began to cry.
Navy Blue label.
Six had passports and the son's birth certificate.
April Seventh.
The father said there was no happier day in his life.
What could outshine the birth of his first and only son?
Purple label.
The son joined his mother's sobs when they opened box number seven.
Pictures.
The son picked up a Polaroid entitled: Take Your Kid To Work Day.
Tears flowed down his face, but there was no use in hindering them now.
Pink label.
There were only three boxes left.
Box eight was filled with 8786€.
They tossed that box down the stairs.
Red Label.
Nine.
Nine was a box full of keys.
Spare keys, car keys, other miscellaneous keys.
This has to be it.
"DAMN IT!"
Orange Label
The very last box.
Out of all of these treasures, what was going to be held here?
So many items.
So many boxes.
What beauty was here?
Box Ten.
The son gripped the sides of this box in fear.
This is it.
"I wonder..."
Lifting the lid, they saw
A rag?
A rag.
Out of all things?
The son looked up with curiosity.
"But. Why?"
Turning his head, he saw his mother crumble.
"That. That my son, was the blanket we brought you home in. It was so long ago, I had almost forgotten. You were so cold in the rain."
Thunder struck.
"He would've wanted you to have this. To show you how far he has come. And to show far you have."
Lightning finished her statement and nothing else was said for a few moments.
"He'd want you to keep going on. Making new boxes and memories. We come so far. You can go on. We can go on."
"We have to."