“What’s in this box?” he said, pointing.

“Those are the rules for that card game I used to play,” I said. “Just leave it.”

“Are you going to play it again?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought you hated that game.”

“I do.”

“I can see why you’ve had so much trouble with this,” he said, lifting another box. “What about this one?”

“No. That’s from that time I went to the race track as a kid.”

“It’s got a big hole in it,” he said, opening it up.

“Yes and I’d like to keep what I’ve got left of it,” I explained.

“But there’s only two memories left in here,” he urged. “They’re not even good memories. There’s one of you asking why the race cars are made of plastic and another of you bruising your forearm while trying to fire a bow.”

“Just put it down,” I said in annoyance.

“Fine, fine,” he said. setting the box aside. “There’s got to be something back here you can forget.”

I looked around and sighed. “So many of these boxes are already damaged like that one. It just makes me want to hold them tighter.”

“Well that’s no way to grow,” he said. “Especially when your memories are as sad as those two.”

I sighed in annoyance and cast my eyes at the ceiling as he continued to rummage around. Before I knew it, he’d gotten his hands on another box.

“What about this big one?” he said, attempting to lift it up. It didn’t move. “Wow, it’s pretty heavy.”

“Hey! Don’t touch that one!” I shouted.

My reaction startled him. “What’s so special about this one?” he asked.

I hurried over to him and pressed my hands down on the lid of the box, making sure it was secure. He just looked at me in confusion, head cocked to one side.

“Just leave it alone,” I said.

“What’s in it?” he asked.

The question was so obvious but I was still unprepared for it. “Nothing.”

“It’s pretty heavy for a box of nothing,” he said with all the snark in the world.

“You’re not going to let this one go, are you?” I asked, too annoyed to play any cat and mouse games.

“Not until you tell me what’s in it.”

I stared at him angrily. He stared back, a sly grin creeping across his face.

“You know what, it doesn’t even matter if I tell you,” I said in defeat. “This box contains all my insecurities.”

He gave me that confused look again. “And you don’t want to forget your insecurities?”

I thought quickly this time. “They make me human,” I said authoritatively.

He laughed openly before saying, “Don’t give me that new age crap. This is going.”

Now my turn for sarcasm, I stood aside and gestured at the box with my hand, inviting him to lift it. He squat down with proper form and grasped the box with both arms. lurching upward he applied his strength to it but the box remained solidly on the floor, not even a single corner becoming airborne.

He released the box and caught his breath. “It’s like it’s bolted down.”

“That’s why it didn’t matter if you knew what was in this box or not,” I said. “It won’t move.”

“You could be helping,” he said.

I shrugged and together we made to lift the box but after some struggling we arrived at the same result.

He peaked around the corner of the box. “I feel like you’re not trying.”

“Me? Listen here,” I responded, “there was a time not long ago that I wanted to take this box and heave it out into the street with the rest of the garbage. I was sick of seeing it all the time, taking up space in the top of my mind so I dragged it back here. But this is as far as I could move it.”

“So you were able to move it from the top of your mind to the back,” he said. “Something like this though, it’ll effect you wherever you keep it.”

“I’m beginning to realize that.”

“But you still want to keep it?”

It was my turn to be confused. “Did you not hear me?” I asked. “I just said I tried getting rid of it before.”

“You can’t forget things like this unless you want to.”

“How ridiculous,” I said. “Why would I not want to forget?”

“Well, let’s find out,” he said before ripping the lid off the box.

Before I could speak a single word of protest, a choking black mist poured out and filled the back of my mind. Growing rapidly, it overflowed the confines of memory and enshrouded my thought in darkness.