“Family Ties”
I was five when I discovered my first fear: claustrophobia. My two older brothers, one seven, the other nine; were playing with an old wooden toy chest before I joined in their fun. The box was plain: its wood a faded white, the inside a dark brown.
“You getting in?” My brother Johnny asked.
I looked at him, then the box. “Are there holes?”
“Duh” my other brother Jerry replied. “Why else would we get in it?”
Still skeptical, I shook my head ‘no’ and seeing my disbelief, Jerry crawled into the depths of the old box and closed the lid. About five minutes had passed and as I became worried, my brother opened the lid. With the silliest grin on his face, “Do you believe me now?” With lips pressed in nervousness,
“I guess.”
Jerry climbed out of the box and Johnny was about to go next, but Jerry stopped him. “No, it’s her turn,” he said. When both of them looked at me, I knew there was no escape, no turning back. Getting into the box, I laid down and crossed my arms over my chest. When I was ready, Jerry closed the lid. Immediately, the darkness engulfed me and the silence was deafening.
I told myself it was going to be okay; that it’d all be over in five minutes. I laid in the box for what seemed like an eternity, wondering where the breathing holes were. Wondering why I was suddenly having a hard time breathing. I tried to breathe slowly—tried to take small, steady breaths; but my pulse just quickened. I was honestly becoming scared now. It was too dark, too quiet and it felt way too long to be in this box. So, wanting out, I go to open the lid and to my horror, it doesn’t budge. Panicking, I tried harder. I yelled out my brothers’ names, nobody answered. I yelled for my parents, still no answer. By now, I could hardly breathe and it felt like time was running out. In my despair, tears pricked my eyes and ran down my pale cheeks. I sobbed for about ten minutes, the tears disappearing because I was too weak to cry. All seemed lost in this dark box...
More moments of silence had passed before I heard the voices of my brothers. In a desperate call for help, I knocked as hard as I could on the box. This time, someone heard me and my brother Johnny opened the box. “Where were you? We’ve been looking for you for an hour.”
Rushing out of the box and into a world of light and fresh air, I take a few deep breaths before answering. “What do you mean? I was in there this entire time.”
Johnny looked confused. “Jerry told me he had let you out fifty-minutes ago.”
Shaking my head, “No, he didn’t.”
After that situation, we never spoke of it again. My brothers never mentioned it and I was too scared to bring it up. To this day, I’ve always wondered why my parents were going to toss out that old toy chest back then. Were they scared of us kids playing in it? Did they know there was no airholes?
The worst part was: did my brothers know about it and if they did, why’d they let me climb into it, thinking it was all just a game? I shudder at the thought.