Pandora's Box
"Here." Aunt Chris passed the box over to Roy.
He cocked an eyebrow, accepting it. "What is this?"
"Something your parents probably would've wanted you to have years ago." She tapped her cigarette into the ash tray. "Go on, open it."
Roy quirked his mouth but opened the box, finding a smaller box. "Oh, it's just what I wanted," he mocked, though he had the feeling he knew what was inside. "A box." He turned it in his fingers, thinking the size and shape and weight had a familiarity to it. The thought that his parents had been married and they'd worn matching rings came to mind.
He wasn't sure he was ready to open this box and see what it held. "Perhaps you should keep this a while longer, Madam."
Aunt Chris stared at him flatly. "How long are you going to hide from your past, Roy?"
Roy rose from his seat, offering a smile to her. "I have no past, Madam. Nothing before Ishval." With a wave of his hand, he left the bar.
His words were a lie, of course. Aunt Chris knew it. Dredging up the past meant reliving a hurt which had never gone away, which had barely lessened over the years. Roy could manage a patter to keep the memories at bay but certain things could break through the walls he'd built over the years.
That box, that jewelry box and what it might hold had the power to make him undone, like the contents of the box in the old myths. Right now, he wasn't ready for that. Someday, maybe, when he was free to make a choice – if that might ever happen.
For now, the memories were best left to lie.
