I smile to myself as I open the little pink box with the lavender, heart-shaped clasp. I see my reflection in the mirror on the inside of the lid, the face wider, hair longer, eyes harder than the last time I opened it.

I take a deep breath and reach a hand into the chest, pulling out a misty, liquid-filled orb. The contents are dark. I shake it just a little, streaks of yellow and blue and green swirl within the murky blackness, only to retreat once I still my hand.

"Ah," I say to myself, "My sense of wonder." The grind of adulthood turned a beautiful brook into a tar-filled ravine.

I place the orb next to me and return my focus to the chest. My fingers close around a key. Once encrusted with precious jewels and hanging from a golden chain, the key was now a deep rust-red, soot and jagged stones lying in place of polished rubies and glittering emeralds.

"My trust." Destroyed by lies and broken promises.

As I turn to put down the key, a photograph in the chest catches my eye and I pick it up. The picture is over 30 years old, brown at the edges and discolored in one corner. It is a very small version of me, two feet tall and wearing a blue and white Minnie Mouse track suit. A woman is kneeling beside me, smiling.

"My mother, as she was." Dementia, slowly invading her brain and replacing the woman she was with the woman who may one day not remember my name.

My smile fades, my eyes brimming with tears.

"That is enough for today."

I return the photograph, the key, and the orb to the chest and close it. I then place the little pink box with the lavender, heart-shaped clasp in a bigger chest, black and nondescript. It locks with a click and I slide it back under my bed, a dusty void.

One day I will restore all the items in the chest to their former glory.

But not today.

WEDNESDAY 11:42 AM

A little girl sits, transfixed by the scene unfolding before her. Her eyes widen, tiny fingers gripping her own thighs as she watches the creature move closer to the man. She wants to shout a warning, but something in her tells her to stay quiet, that making even the slightest sound will only cause trouble for her. So she sits. And watches.

TWO HOURS EARLIER

The children climb into the unmarked van.

"Oooouch!" A shriek rang out as a child stumbled, fell. The woman in white rushes over, takes a look at the child's knee and mutters unintelligibly, but not unkindly, as she takes his hand and helps him into the van.

"We're late," the woman in white says to the man in the driver's seat. He nods, and the van peels away from the curb.

11:43 AM

It was too late. The little girl could not call out or run for help. In fact, she couldn't even move, her limbs paralyzed as she looks on in terror. As she drew in a deep breath, the creature leapt, claws outstretched.

"No!" The little girl finally says, in a barely audible whisper. She closes her eyes as people take the man away.

ONE HOUR EARLIER

"In here," says the woman in white as the children enter a dimly lit space, with only the lights on the bottom of their shoes to guide them. Suddenly, darkness. A hush falls over the children.

11:46 AM

The man is laying on a table, his injured leg outstretched as another man tends to his wounds. Relief washes over the little girl when she realizes that he is okay. She relaxes now, and continues to watch as people go to and fro, paying her no mind at all. Several more minutes pass, then the man and his friends prepare to leave. She wants to go with them, but she knows in her heart that it is not possible. Just as she can no longer see the man, a creature bounds in from her right and gives a mighty roar. Before the little girl can completely react, the light returns, brighter than before.

The woman in white stands and says, "Well, what did everyone think?"

The little girl also stands, a smile on her face, and exclaims, "I love Jurassic Park!"