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Description
The only thing I had wanted was for someone to kidnap me. To break down the door, grab me, and take me away. I wanted the pain of being taken away, I wanted to forget everything that was in my head.... I had even been expecting it, just waiting for the rough grunts of strange men in dark to yell at my doorstep, demanding to be let in.
I wrapped my arms around my cold, shivering body. The tears slid down my face like hot rain on a window, uncontrollable and steady. I could feel the starlight sparkling on my shining cheeks through the window.
I pressed repeat in the short moments of silence. The echo of my life began to play again, and like a music box I wound with tension at the beginning, and relaxed into quiet sobs toward the end of the melody, my head spinning. It was the perfect impression of who I am, all my secrets woven into a song. A song that I long to remember, to recall the part of me I lost that night....
I sat, frozen for hours listening to my life. I heard my loss and I heard my love resonate within me. I shivered and sobbed myself to numbness, curled on the hard wooden chair. I longed to be torn away from my reality, whether it be by the hands of strangers or the soft touch of my parents. I longed for the music to stop, but I wouldn't let silence overtake the room. I wouldn't let the cold quiet freeze me there forever.
My parents had been out late that night, and I could never sleep when the house was too quiet. My sisters were sleeping when I had slowly wandered out of my bedroom. My cold feet had led me slowly toward the computer desk, where the monitor sat, dark and sleeping.
With a tap on the keyboard, the screen had lit up. My fingers slid across the keys, typing random words into the searchbox. In a trance, I had clicked on a video, maybe an accidental tap of the mouse.
But as my yarn began to unravel, and the song delved deeper into my being, none of it mattered. Not how I had come upon it. Not how loud it was, I had no thought of waking my sisters. No care in the world but to hear it yet again, and again, and again....
But it hurt me. It revealed to me the pain I was in, the parts of my life I loved as well as wanted to forget. It made me remember every smile, every tear, and it broke me to pieces.
It was a song that took me apart, the fragile music box I was. My pieces lay scattered, my tiny screws left rocking slowly back and forth, back and forth on the floor. Broken, sparkling; there was only one thing that could put me back together: sleep.
My parents found me, late that night on the cold floor. Not beside the computer, I was lying crumpled in the hallway. The computer was off, the history was clear. My parents took me to bed, saying it had all been a dream.
I awoke in the morning, colder than usual and empty of thought. I had forgotten my dream, but as I sat up, something beside my bed caught my eye.
A music box. I reached for it shakily, and the shadow of a memory passed over my eyes. I wound it, listened to the low buzzing before the song.... The first few notes brushed my skin like a feather, I knew the song but could not quite recall what it was.
I stole away for moments during that day, just to hear the simple song that felt like it was a part of me. I asked no one if they knew the name, I had a feeling it was my song and mine only.
Now I know. It is the song of my life, or perhaps the life of my song. It is who I am for everyone to hear, but only if they can find my music box.

Description
The only thing I had wanted was for someone to kidnap me. To break down the door, grab me, and take me away. I wanted the pain of being taken away, I wanted to forget everything that was in my head.... I had even been expecting it, just waiting for the rough grunts of strange men in dark to yell at my doorstep, demanding to be let in.
I wrapped my arms around my cold, shivering body. The tears slid down my face like hot rain on a window, uncontrollable and steady. I could feel the starlight sparkling on my shining cheeks through the window.
I pressed repeat in the short moments of silence. The echo of my life began to play again, and like a music box I wound with tension at the beginning, and relaxed into quiet sobs toward the end of the melody, my head spinning. It was the perfect impression of who I am, all my secrets woven into a song. A song that I long to remember, to recall the part of me I lost that night....
I sat, frozen for hours listening to my life. I heard my loss and I heard my love resonate within me. I shivered and sobbed myself to numbness, curled on the hard wooden chair. I longed to be torn away from my reality, whether it be by the hands of strangers or the soft touch of my parents. I longed for the music to stop, but I wouldn't let silence overtake the room. I wouldn't let the cold quiet freeze me there forever.
My parents had been out late that night, and I could never sleep when the house was too quiet. My sisters were sleeping when I had slowly wandered out of my bedroom. My cold feet had led me slowly toward the computer desk, where the monitor sat, dark and sleeping.
With a tap on the keyboard, the screen had lit up. My fingers slid across the keys, typing random words into the searchbox. In a trance, I had clicked on a video, maybe an accidental tap of the mouse.
But as my yarn began to unravel, and the song delved deeper into my being, none of it mattered. Not how I had come upon it. Not how loud it was, I had no thought of waking my sisters. No care in the world but to hear it yet again, and again, and again....
But it hurt me. It revealed to me the pain I was in, the parts of my life I loved as well as wanted to forget. It made me remember every smile, every tear, and it broke me to pieces.
It was a song that took me apart, the fragile music box I was. My pieces lay scattered, my tiny screws left rocking slowly back and forth, back and forth on the floor. Broken, sparkling; there was only one thing that could put me back together: sleep.
My parents found me, late that night on the cold floor. Not beside the computer, I was lying crumpled in the hallway. The computer was off, the history was clear. My parents took me to bed, saying it had all been a dream.
I awoke in the morning, colder than usual and empty of thought. I had forgotten my dream, but as I sat up, something beside my bed caught my eye.
A music box. I reached for it shakily, and the shadow of a memory passed over my eyes. I wound it, listened to the low buzzing before the song.... The first few notes brushed my skin like a feather, I knew the song but could not quite recall what it was.
I stole away for moments during that day, just to hear the simple song that felt like it was a part of me. I asked no one if they knew the name, I had a feeling it was my song and mine only.
Now I know. It is the song of my life, or perhaps the life of my song. It is who I am for everyone to hear, but only if they can find my music box.