The Secret Box

A letter in a box kept inside the wooden panel behind a little girl's bed.

Dear Wendy,

 

I know you’re surprised to see a piece of paper along with your trinkets inside your secret box.

The Royal Possessions as you call them - the seashell bracelet you braided on the beachside, the wooden ring you picked up when your Daddy cut down the mango tree on the backyard, your favorite doll your Mommy gave you on your sixth birthday, the brass coin you found under the table in the cellar that you believed could stop time by flipping it twice in a row, the green rock that turns a different color - blue for yes and yellow for no - when you rub it, and the blade that gave you your first wound just above your left brow. But don’t worry, Wendy. I assure you, your secret box remains a secret from the day you kept it.

It’s important that you hear my story and you need to understand it completely. I’m relying on you to help me, Wendy.

 

I met Shawn at a single’s club in the Recreational Palace of the Sogo Hotel along the Aurora Boulevard. He was a foot taller than me, had brown skin, and had straight fine black hair that didn’t really need to be combed. His dark brown eyes that always looked weary could be piercing if he wanted them to. His strong eyebrows with its sharp peaks could express his emotions easily, and his high cheekbones complemented his delicate jaw.

He rarely smiled though, but when he did, you could never find such a beautiful smile. I could only wish he would always smile.

Shawn worked as a pattern maker at the Mystical Knots Apparel. He told me the patterns were meant for mainstream brands like Banana Republic, Blue Navy, and Bench - my seven-year old daughter Wanda’s and my favorite brands.

Shawn kept to himself, but admitted it takes time for him to warm up to someone, which was a pity since he was bright and charming. He rarely spoke and was always cautious of his words, careful not to offend someone - the reason for his shyness, which I found endearing. So he just listened.

I told him about my lovely Wanda - that she would wake up early every morning to help me cook breakfast, that she liked her eggs over easy, that she would laugh silly in simple things just like me, and that she loved cats.

I told him about my husband, Sam, and how he died in the car accident when Wanda was just six. I told him how hard it was for me to lose someone I loved, and that I would do everything not to lose someone again. I told him my favorite color was green. And when he asked why, I told him the most self-centered answer I ever said. I said, “Green looks good on me.”

 

In time, Shawn started to open up. He told me his wife cheated on him. He caught them in their own bed - the bed he shared with her, the bed where they both slept in every night, the bed where they made love.

He told me how spiteful she had been even after being caught in the act. He told me how she’d get him and take everything he had. He told me about the nasty phone calls in the middle of the night, the sick e-mails and text messages, and the vandalism his wife wrought - he was forced to sell his car, its tires puncture with long nails and the paint job scratched with a key, and took the subway instead to go to work everyday.

He told me how she made him angry; angry with her, with himself, and with everyone and everything.

 

We dated a few more times, a few more months, and when I felt it was time for the next stage, I asked him to move in with us.

I was really happy when he agreed to move in. I felt so complete for the very first time since I lost Sam. I felt that my family was whole once again.

I missed having a man in the house. I missed having a shoulder to lean on when I watch TV. I missed having my hair stroked when I’m about to sleep. I missed having my face kissed in the morning when I wake up. I missed being kissed.

It wasn’t hard for Wanda to get along with Shawn. I was anxious at first that Wanda wouldn’t like him at all. I imagined her screaming at him that he’ll never take the place of her Daddy no matter what. But this fear turned out to be just the fear of a desperate woman wanting to make everything right…everything perfect.

When I saw them together, my anxiety faded away. They get along really well. One might think they were indeed father and daughter. And the way he treated Wanda - how he made her laugh, how he made her feel special - I knew Shawn love both of us.

 

It went well for us for a whole year.

Then one night, Shawn went home late. I asked him what was wrong. He was more silent than usual, just sitting on the green couch, and staring down the living room floor. I really hated when he scowl.

He looked somber and lost, just like the first time we met when he was still submerged within the lunacy his wife’s betrayal caused him. I was afraid he wouldn’t tell me the truth and also afraid of knowing the truth.

Shawn said his ex-wife called him in the office early that day. She told him she saw him with me and Wanda the other day while we went walking in the park. She told him that he was never a good husband, nor could he ever be a good father. She told him he was useless, and the world would be better off without him.

Shawn reached out his back, pulled out a gun and rested it on his leg. He said he shot his ex-wife.

I tried to console him. I said everything would be all right and it was all an accident even as the truth slowly dawned on me. The fear of the desperate woman once again emerged.

He told me no and maybe his ex-wife was right. He stretched his right hand and pointed the gun at me.

I knelt down in front of him, begging for my life, pleading for his mercy. I cried and told him that I love him. I love him so much that I would do everything for him. Don’t shoot me, I cried. Please.

Then I heard Wanda stepped out of her room and called out to me. I turned around and looked at her to tell her that everything’s fine, that she should get back to sleep.

Then the sound of the gunshot deafened my ears.

 

I wrote you this letter to let you know that I made a wrong decision. That you’re reading this letter now only proves this. You may be wondering why I’m telling you my story. And who I really am. Indeed, you know me already. No one else in this world knows that you kept a secret box inside the wood panel of the wall behind your bed except you.

I added a few things in our secret box; the wedding rings Sam and I wore, Wanda’s first fallen tooth that she kept under her pillow for the tooth fairy, a lock of Wanda’s hair from her first haircut, and the bullet taken out of her head.

I rely on you, Wendy, never to place the bullet that took Wanda’s life inside our secret box again.

 

Love,

Wendy

 

 

The End

Reviews

[Margie F]

Tragic! How people respond to tragedy is so different. This is a picture of how one person might deal with the mental scars that are left behind after experiencing such an event.

[Haeshin]

...Damn. A good tragic story.

[greg]

its very well written. i loved that i didnt know what was going to happen before it happened.

[Owlgirl]

wow!!! This was so sad and heartfelt. This was exceptional. I love it. I must admit that was the last thing I probobly expected and it was amazing!!!! Wow!!!!!!!

[luvingu01]

love the detailing paragraphs as it pulls the reader in and the many objections one can find similar in his own life. i really enjoy reading this. though i think you can beef up the middle part with more drama it would be fantastic!....but hey! thats just me. i love the drama and the dialogue....but indeed i really like this story

[Brittany]

Wow. What an interesting story. It was satisfying and I hope you take that as a compliment. It was very engaging and captured my attention all through. It also evoked sadness and despair so kudos for making me feel your story. I agree that you captured Wendy's humanity well. The details really made the story seem real. I also thought you paced it well and revealed the details just when needed. This was very well done.

[V.J.C.]

I really liked your story. The very sad ending was somehow expected by me, but i always expect something unpleasant. This was a great read that satisfied me, thanks for the great read.

[Aarontastic]

This was a perfect story for me. It was original, intriguing, and dramatic in a very harrowing sense. The way that you wrote it and controlled the pacing through to the end was very professional. Structuring the story in the form of a letter in a box created an irresistible air of mystery that pulls a reader through each paragraph, where more and more of the twisted story is revealed, all leading up to the tragic, genuinely surprising ending--although I did notice in the beginning that the author of the note mentioned that the box remained a secret, the ending was still satisfying.

The most impressive thing about this narrative for me is the humanity of it: I think that you demonstrated a great understanding of how people really act and feel in grim circumstances like these, and conveyed it flawlessly in the story. There was also a great breadth and level of specificity in the details of the story--such as the name of the hotel, the meeting location of Wendy and Shawn, and the contents of the secret box--that made reading it all the more affecting. Using more generic settings would lose the sense of intimacy and personalization that this story has.

Full of admiration for this, nice job :)

[Ama May Cooper]

* in the backyard not on the backyard, doesn't technically make sense otherwise.

Shawns introduction is wonderful the character really comes to life with your wording.

Oooo this story gives me shivers, creepy a brilliant set of scene, the story progresses at a nice speed a clear beginning middle and end. A very sucsessful piece of work.

[Imagination-mage]

this as very good and suspenseful!! hat happened to shawn i wonder!!