Just a short little piece I wrote in less than ten minutes. Set a few years after the movie.
She had never been one to throw things away. But the time had come to pack up her world, and she knew all too well that not everything could come with her. Through her first circuit around the room, the trash bag remained undeniably empty, save for a few gum wrappers and a marker with no cap.
With a sigh of resignation, she decided the best place to start would be her desk. The makeup she saved. More need for costumes in the real world than in any of my fantasies, she thought dryly. A stack of old papers, some broken children's jewelry. Slowly, the wooden surface, hidden for years, began to appear like bits of sky through dissipating rain clouds.
The last thing she touched was the statue. At one time, the foot-high sculpture had both terrified and attracted her. True, it was a handsome piece of work, detailed and hand painted.
But now, holding it in her hand, she only saw a toy. Compared to the whirling force she knew, it was ridiculously tame, dull and lifeless. The surface was both too hot and too cold, nothing like the hand that, even through leather gloves, had sent a bolt of electricity through her when it had touched her own.
She stood there for a moment, considering its painted, frozen face. Then, slowly, ready too jump after it should she feel the need, she dropped it into the bag.
It fell to the bottom with no weight, no sound, and no consequence, and she knew she'd made the right choice.