The music box was old. It sat on a shelf in a dusty shop in Havenfield, waiting. It wasn’t shiny or new. It looked like it had seen many years.
Richard loved old things. He visited the antique shop often. He liked to touch and examine objects. He wondered about their pasts. Today, his eyes fell on the music box. It was made of dark wood. The carvings were strange, like tangled vines. He carefully opened it. A soft, tinkling tune filled the air. It was pretty, but something about it felt a little sad.
“How much?” Richard asked the shopkeeper, a woman named Mrs. Gable.
“That old thing?” she said, her voice raspy. “Ten dollars. It’s been sitting there for ages.”
Richard paid for it. He took it home to his apartment on Ashbridge Avenue. He put it on his nightstand. The tune still played in his head.
That night, Richard had a strange dream. He was little again, playing with his dog. The dog was jumping in joy and barking. It was warm. The air smelled like summer. Then, the scene started to flicker. The dog’s bark turned into a sob. The bright colors faded into gray. He woke up with a jolt. He felt like he had lost something.
The next day, Richard felt different. He couldn’t quite place what it was. He was walking in the streets of Seabourne. It felt like a piece of his past was missing. He tried to think of his childhood friend, Norm. He could see Norm’s face. But, their shared memories were fuzzy like an old photograph. He rubbed his eyes. He wondered if he was just tired.
He went back to his apartment and saw the music box. The tiny carvings seemed to move in the light. He opened it. The same sad tune played. A memory flickered in his mind. He saw a little girl with pigtails. He knew her. She felt important. But he couldn’t remember her name. He felt a sharp pain in his head. He quickly closed the box. He tried to focus on something else. He tried reading a book. But, the words seemed meaningless. He looked around his living room. Everything felt unfamiliar.
That evening, he went to see his sister, Ellie. He hoped talking to her would help. Ellie lived in a small apartment in Bluewater. “Hey, Richard,” Ellie said with a smile. “You okay? You look a bit pale.”
“I don’t know, Ellie,” Richard said, trying to explain. “I feel like I am forgetting things. Like big chunks of my life have disappeared.”
Ellie frowned. “What do you mean? Like what?”
Richard tried to explain the dreams, the missing memories, and the box. He couldn’t seem to put it into words.
“Maybe you’re just stressed,” Ellie said, sounding worried. “You’ve been working so hard.”
Richard shook his head. It felt like more than stress. “It’s like, something is taking my memories away.”
He went back home. His apartment seemed darker. The furniture looked like the shadows were eating it up. He saw the box sitting on the nightstand. Its dark wood looked like it was absorbing light. It was almost calling him.
He opened it. This time, the music sounded stronger. He saw a scene. It was his graduation day. He was so proud. His parents were smiling at him. Suddenly, the smiles faded. The scene warped. The colors started swirling. The music became a heavy dirge. He felt a huge wave of sadness. He slammed the box shut. He felt breathless and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest. He realized what was happening. The music box was stealing his memories.
He couldn’t remember how he got into bed. He lay there with a pounding headache. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
The dreams were worse this time. He saw his childhood home. It was so clear. The curtains were yellow and the door was green. Then, the house was empty. It looked like someone had peeled away all the happiness. Everything was just gray and bleak. He saw his mom’s face but couldn’t recall her voice. He reached out to hug her, but she wasn’t there. He woke up again in a cold sweat. He was shivering like it was winter. He could barely remember his name now. He looked at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time.
He knew he had to get rid of it. He couldn’t remember where he got it from. The only thing he knew was that he didn’t want it anymore. He wanted his memories back. He wanted his life back.
Richard grabbed the music box. It felt heavy. The wood was ice cold. He took the box to the trash bin outside of his apartment. As he dropped it in, he heard the faintest tune. He looked up and saw his own reflection in the window. He saw a stranger staring back at him. His eyes were sunken and hollow. The person in the window looked as though they were in pain.
He ran back inside his apartment. He felt sick and wanted to throw up. He had to call Ellie.
“Ellie, I am scared. I don’t remember anything.” Richard spoke into the phone. He felt like he was speaking through a thick fog.
“Richard, are you okay? Where are you? What’s happening?” Ellie asked with concern.
Richard was holding his head. He didn’t know what to tell her. He couldn’t remember their past conversations. He couldn’t remember the place he grew up. He didn’t know who was speaking to him on the phone.
Ellie tried to calm him down. She said, “Just stay there. I am coming over now.”
Richard sat on his couch. The silence was deafening. It was like the music box was stealing the quiet sounds around him, too. He felt his own heartbeat. It felt so slow, like a drum at a funeral. Then, he noticed a smell. It was the scent of old books. He knew he knew that smell. But, he couldn’t remember from where. He started to have visions. It felt like he was flipping through an old scrapbook. The pictures flickered quickly. He could see himself as a kid with a big toothy grin. The picture warped into a blurred image of a man. He couldn’t recognize the man. He could feel the fear rising in his chest like a balloon about to burst.
Then, he noticed something on the nightstand. He did a double-take. It was the music box. How did it get back in his apartment? He ran and grabbed it. He wanted to throw it again. But, he couldn’t. He felt an irresistible urge to open it. He opened it. The tune was louder, more powerful than ever before.
He saw a flash of his first kiss. He remembered the nervous feeling. The excitement. The way she smiled at him. Then, it all started to fade away. He saw his first heartbreak. He recalled the deep sense of loss. The painful loneliness. Then, that was gone too. He could feel the music box sucking his memories. He knew it was stealing his most precious moments. He closed the box but it was too late. He remembered his life flashing before his eyes. Then everything turned to blank. There was no past, present, or future. There was only emptiness.
Ellie knocked on his door. “Richard! Open up!” she yelled with her voice trembling with fear. She called his cell phone and there was no answer. She knew something was very wrong.
She finally managed to open the door. The apartment was dark and cold. It felt like someone was draining the air out of the room. She didn’t see Richard. She called out his name. “Richard! Where are you?”
She heard a faint noise from his bedroom. She rushed in. She saw him sitting on the bed, staring at a dark, old music box. His eyes were blank. He didn’t seem to recognize her. She tried to talk to him, but he didn’t respond. She could not see the music box. It had disappeared right in front of her eyes. There was nothing in his hands.
“Richard, what’s wrong?” Ellie’s eyes were filled with tears as she tried to touch him. She felt his hands. His hands were ice-cold like a dead person.
He turned to her with a blank stare and he spoke in a raspy voice, not his own voice, “The music… it never stops.” He looked up and saw an empty space where the music box was. He then continued, “We are all part of the music now. There is no past, present or future.” And then he started laughing manically.
Ellie backed away. Her heart was pounding. She didn’t recognize her brother. It was like someone else was inside him. She wanted to run but she couldn’t. She was rooted to the spot. She didn’t know what to do. She was scared.
She ran as fast as she could from the apartment. She knew she had to find help. She knew that Richard was gone. He was no longer her brother. The music box had taken everything. She didn’t know where Richard was. She couldn’t see him anywhere. She only saw a empty space. An empty shell of the person she loved.
She never went back to Ashbridge Avenue again. Every night, she would hear the faint tune of a music box. It was like a haunting echo. It was always there. Lingering and waiting.
The story of the music box of Briarwood became a chilling tale in Havenfield. Some people said that if you listen carefully at night, you can still hear the faint tune. They say it will steal your memories and replace them with a cold, empty void. The tune keeps playing. It never stops. It is always there.
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