The room remained untouched for years. The pink walls were the same light shade, plastered with pictures. The toys were littered around the room. At the top, near the ceiling, there were torn strings and the like, as though the ornaments from there were accidently ripped off.
In the middle of the room, sat a young girl. Well, really, a girl no more. A young woman. She held a small pink nightshirt, and a picture. One of many pictures. And they all featured the same thing; a big, blue, furry monster, and a tiny girl, with the name Boo scrawled on at the bottom. The tiny girl she recognized as herself, but she could not figure out what the other thing was. A figment of her imagination, perhaps. Yes, probably. Yet, as she stared at the shirt, and the picture, she was seized with a bewildering urge to open the closet door. And even more puzzling was the sense of loss that flooded her when she saw the racks and racks of clothes. Somehow, beyond her comprehension, she had expected something else. What else, she couldn't be sure. But she had a feeling that it was not to be clothes. Instead, she longed for something big and blue, and maybe the small and green something too.