This story came to me during an extremelly boring class in different literatures. We're somewhere in teh middle of poetry, and I was so bored I ended up reading some of the poems in my book. One of them called out to me, and from it was born this idea. I do not however promise this oneshot actually makes any sense, but neither did the poem so.
Anyway I do not own neither Veronica Mars nor the poem. Please read and review
She was nineteen when she made the box. Though she could not tell you now why she made it. Only that, once upon a time, it had been important. In it she put the things that mattered. A book, given to her when she was a child. The book was not the best book she had ever read, nor was it the best kept. But it had been given to her by her mother, and so it was important. She loved the book, but after her mother left she could not look at it anymore. And so she placed it in the box.
Next came a doll. It was an old doll and not at all pretty. It was not the best doll she had, but it was her favorite. Given to her by her father. Her father who mattered so much, and had always stayed by her side. But she was to old to play with dolls now. And she could not, would not keep it in her room. So she put it in the box, on top of the book. Perhaps in some way this was to say she loved and trusted her father more. It did not matter. For they both had a place in the box.
Then came pictures. Five to be exact. One was an old picture, taken years ago. Of her with both her mother and her father. Such a long time ago, in some ways perhaps a happier time. But it had turned out to be a lie, so why keep it in her room? But it was important, or at least it had once been important, so it was placed in the box. Then there was another picture, even older than the one before. Of her and Lilly as little toddlers. The picture was important, and she would have kept it, if it were not for the other person in it. For behind her and Lilly, with his arms around them, stood Jake. And she wanted no reminder of the man who might have been, could have been her father. So in the box it went.
Then there was the third picture, not as old as the ones before. It was a picture of the four of them with there arms around each other smiling. She might have kept the picture, if it were not for the other people in it. For behind Lilly stood Celeste. Celeste, the women who with one lie destroyed her sons life. For a truth she believed in so much, she didn't even check it. And next to her stood Jake. And next to him Leanne, smiling at the camera. Now that she looks at them she sees more clearly that they loved each other. Or perhaps she saw that now, because she knew the whole truth. It does not matter. There next to them was her father with his head held high. And she is left to wonder if perhaps he had not always known. And then there was Lynn. Smiling radiantly at the camera, and next to her Aaron. And he is the reason she places the picture in the box. For she wants no reminder of that man in her life, and yet she can not bring herself to throw the picture away. Instead she places it in the box..
Then there is another picture, of just the four of them. Taken on her sixteenth birthday, before any of it happened. It is a beautiful picture, in which they all look so happy. And perhaps that is the reason she could not keep it. But it was important. So she places it in the box. .
The fifth picture was taken a couple of years before that. It was again a picture of the four of them. But that is not why it was hidden away. For next to Logan, on his left stood Dick. And perhaps if he was the only addition to the picture she might have kept it in sight. But it was not. Because on her right stood a smiling Meg. She however was not the reason the picture was hidden. The reason stood behind Meg, for there stood Beaver. Young and innocent once upon a time. So long ago she has trouble remembering it. For hours she stared at this picture trying to find a reason in it. Trying to understand. How a young boy, such an innocent boy, could turn into such a monsters. She couldn't bear to keep the picture in sight. Because the young boy stood behind the girl who's death he would cause. And he stood not far from the girl who's innocence he would steal. But she could not throw the picture away, for it had once been important. It was a clear reminder of how happy they once were. A proof of their innocence. So in the box it went.
Then came a teddy bear. Given to her by Logan. Not the Logan she knew now, but the Logan she had once known. A teddy given to her by a best friend. A friend who promised to be by her side forever. A friend who turned around and walked away when he was needed the most. She did not want to remember the friendship, or the pain she felt when she lost it. But he had mattered, once upon a time, and so had the teddy bear. So she put it in the box.
Then and only then came a necklace. It wasn't the most expensive necklace she had, nor the most beautiful. But it was important. It was the necklace given to herby the boy shehad once loved. The boy shestill loved, and would always love and for whom she would always be waiting. For the rest of her life. But he would not, could not return. And she had to learn to move on. She did not know where he went either. And so in an attempt to let go, she places the necklace in the box. But out of fear of forgetting who he was, she places a photograph of the both of them next to the necklace.
The only thing she kept with her was the necklace Lilly gave her. And though that was the most important thing she owned, and in some ways belonged in the box. She could not bring herself to place it in it. She had to keep it with her forever.
She placed the box in the back of her closet and left it there. If you open the closet you can probably still find it there. She walked away and didn't look in it again.
In the future she would open the box. But that was in a long time.
In it were the things that had once mattered, a book, a doll, pictures, a teddy bear and a necklace.
The book was old and torn. The doll had lost it's color.
But, no matter, for time had passed, and their importance had wavered over time.
Still she kept the box, hidden in the closed. Never to be looked at again.
But, no matter, for it was there. And that in some way was more than enough.
There in the back of the closet the box remained, for more than a lifetime.
Until eventually, after a long time, the box was opened.
In it were the things that had once mattered to her, a book, a doll, pictures, a teddy bear and a necklace.
The book was old, torn and unreadable. The doll had lost it's color. Only the necklace remained the same.
But, no matter, for time had passed, and their importance had wavered.
And she could not remember why they had once mattered.
And yet she could not throw them away either, for they had once mattered to her.
So she put the things back in the box, and the box went back in the closet.
She closed the closet and left the box there in the back. To remain for the rest of eternity.
For in it were the things that had once mattered. And so they were important to her, even if she could not remember why.
And when asked she could not explain why she kept them. Or the story behind it. Yet she never threw them away, and never looked at them again. They remained in the back of her closet, wherever she went until the day she died. And even then they remained there, until somebody cleaned it out.
The box was opened, and the things they found were of no importance. Of no value. In it was an old, torn book. And a doll which had lost it's color. Pictures, that were barely still in one piece and a teddy bear which was remarkably well kept. And an old necklace, which still looked exactly the same as when it was placed in the box.
They wanted to throw them away, not understanding why they were important. Why they had been kept for such a long time. And though they had once mattered to her, they did not matter to her family. But when she went to throw them away, her daughter found she could not do it. And she could not explain why.
Instead she took the box to her house and put it on her bed. In it were the things that had once mattered to her mother, though she did not know why. She looked at them for a long time, before placing the stuff back in the box and within it placed more pictures and a basket ball. Then she closed the box and placed it in the back of her closet.
And there it remained until the day she died. But the box was never thrown away. And yet nobody could explain why. The box went from mother to daughter and forever remained in the back of the closet. Stuff that had once mattered, but such a long time had passed that nobody could remember why. Nobody could remember why they had it.
In it were things that had once been important. A doll (which had lost it's color) and pictures which had faded over time. A book that couldn't be read anymore and a necklace which always stayed the same. Time passed and nobody could remember why the box was kept. Nobody looked at it, and yet it was never thrown away.
The only thing they knew about the box was that once upon a time, Veronica Mars had placed the stuff in the box. And had kept it all her life. For in it were the things that mattered to her. And nobody had since been able to throw them away.
Perhaps someday somebody would. Perhaps someday there would be somebody who didn't care. Who only saw old things that weren't worth keeping. But for now that person had net yet appeared. And perhaps it never would.
Until the day that person comes by the box remains in the back of the closet. Never to be opened again. And in it were the things that had once mattered, though nobody remembered why. But they had mattered so much, so they remained in the box. In the back of the closet.
For all time.
For those of you who are interested here is the poem
'The Matter' by Russell Edson,
In it were the things a man kept, otherwise they wer not in the box: a toy person with an arm missing; also a leg.
Actually, both arms were missing. And, as one leg was missing, so wat the other; even teh torso and the head.
But, no matter, because in it was another toy person. This one was also missing an arm and one of it's legs.
Actually, it had no arms at all;same with the legs, the torso and head.
But, no matter, the box was full of armless and legless toys without torsos or head.
But again, no matter, because even the box was misssing...and then even the man...
In the end there was only an arrangement of words; and still, no matter....