Crystal Plains

The Red Box

The dust ridden wood box was scarcely visible. Yet somehow a tall, muscular Indian man found it. Grasping it with his long grandfatherly fingers he pulled it from its hiding spot. Gracefully dusting it off he heads from the dim lit basement to the upstairs kitchen. The new light shows a golden symbol in a black sea. "Aahh." The old man sighed. After grabbing a rag he ran it over the rectangular surface. The black sea turned into a beautiful deep red. The black sea was only a square. The symbol in the center is a star with a flower blooming from it's top. Opening its hinged lid lay a bed of golden velvet. A small navy blue book with golden letters lay in this soft bed. With it a leather bound journal and a small oval box. The Indian lifted the oval box to find a used deck of fire playing cards. He put it all back in the bed of gold, shutting the lid with gentle precision. Pulling a thin black cloth from his coat pocket he wrapped the red box. Once a neatly tied knot was secured he whispered, "Can't have any misfortune befall you before her birthday tomorrow." With the box in hand he went straight to his room. The most modest, and humblest room in this mansion is this one. Its average sealing painted cream, and cream walls with gold trim made it look much bigger than what is. The old man pulled a black coin pouch from a drawer in his waist high dresser. The 3,000 year old coins should do the trick. He put the box and the coins on his night stand before showering and going to bed.

Sitting in bed in his black pajama bottoms the old man watched the clock. At 1:00 the whisper, "Happy birthday, Mat." passed between his lips, and sleep took over.

Silence and darkness filled his sorrowing mind. The sound of warm laughter and tinkling bells filled the silence. "Come on!" A sweet voice playfully said. "Swim with me.". He could almost see her smile before she's ripped away from him. The enviouse laughter turns into her screams. "Kishan!!" The only woman he ever loved disappeared. Sucked into a vortex never knowing his love on the anniversary of her birth.

Waking with a start Kishan's memory bit and tugged at his heart. Tears began to stream down his face. Pulling a pillow close to his chest he freely cries. Opening his golden eyes for a moment he saw the gift and pouch gone. Sitting up, pillow to chest, he looked around. Moonlight fills his room. Nothing wrong, but the missing gift. That sweet voice came to his ears. "You remembered." Sighing he states, "I never forget." The voice comes back. "Kishan. You kept this for 3,000 years. Why?"

"Do you not know?" His deep voice rumbled in the air.

"Tell me."

Breathing for a moment he says, "I love you. I have always loved you, and I will never love another like I love you."

"Then find me." Her breath brushed his cheek. His heart raced. "I have something to tell you." She said before leaving. "Wait. Wait!" He stood, pillow falling to the floor. "I will find you!" His voice dripping with promise. His door creaked open. "Brother? Another dream?" A man about the same age stood in the doorway. "Yes. I'll be fine." Kishan states. "Okay." The bother left with those words. Kishan crawled back into bed. "I will find you!" His promise rang through all time to her ears. She grinned at hearing it. Sitting in her cell of broken time. Hoping he can fix what was broken. "I love you," escaped her lips. Her fingers fondled the soft cloth wrapped around the gift. "I love you."