All Was Golden

F I V E

Ryan shivered as a blanket of cold seemed to wrap around him. He continued to lift the lid of the smaller box until it sat propped open on its own.

The inside of the box was lined with a smooth, deep red velvet feeling material. At the bottom of the box, a paper looked as if it had been forced to fit inside. Ryan set the box on the floor just to his side before maneuvering the paper from where it was lodged. When it was free, Ryan quickly realized that it wasn't just a paper. It was a photo.

It was crinkled and torn nearly halfway down the middle. There were blocks of ink on the side that currently faced him, as if someone had tried to erase whatever was previously written there. Ryan tapped his fingers against the other, stickier side of the photo.

He was afraid to look at it. What if it was something he didn't want to remember?.. What if it was?

Ryan gulped, but twisted his wrist to look at the photo. When he realized what the image was, the photo slipped through his fingers and landed on his lap. It was an old photo that Ryan had his own copy of. Ryan's copy had been hidden away, but not damaged to this extent.

The photo showed two smiling figures with arms around each other. From the figure's eyes up, their identities had been scratched away. In the thin space between them, the tear in the photo went down to their mid-stomach area.

Ryan bit his lip as tears wielded in his eyes. His hands clenched into fists before grabbing the crumpled photo and throwing it across the room. In the process, however, he hit the lid of the wooden box, sending it tumbling over.

Something else fell out of the box, glimmering in the dull light and catching Ryan's eye through his tears.

A gold key sat on his floor. Ryan sniffled and wiped at his tears before reaching for it. When his fingers curled around it, warmth spread up his arm. He gasped, releasing the key as he did so. When the key left his grip, the warmth left as well.

He stared at his hand, twisting his wrist in order to look it over completely. Had he just imagined the warmth? Everything else had been so cold to the touch...

He turned his gaze back to the key on the ground. From the top of the key, the face of a skull looked back at him. The skull was carved in enough detail that he could make out its features in the dim light of the room even at his current distance from it. It had a wicked grin of golden teeth that pushed up on its cheek bones. Where the nose would be were two empty sockets. Toward the top of the skull were two eye sockets, but only one was dark. The left eye held a red, ruby gem that gleamed even with the lack of light.

Ryan reached out for the key again, holding his grip around it even as the warmth spread through his arm again. He brought it close before opening his hand to look at it.

Around the skull was a circle of overlapping, golden leaves. He brushed his thumb over them, taking in the design.

The bottom of the key was fairly basic compared to its handle decoration. Gold met silver before stretching out to its end point that fit into a lock.

Attached to the top of the key was a thin, black cord. Ryan twisted it in the fingers of his free hand.

He had never seen the key before. It felt out of place in his hand. Yet, at the same time, he didn't want to put it down.

"What are you?.." Ryan flipped it in his hand. The back of the skull was smooth, but the leaf circling was still the same. "What do you even fit to?" He wasn't sure anything in the apartment had notch for a skeleton key like this.

He flipped the key again to look at its skull features. He had never seen anything like it. Why would this be in a box of His things?

Ryan ran his finger along the cord that dangled from the key. It was just long enough to fit around his head. He lifted it to his head, just to be sure.

The key bounced against his chest as the cord set into place around his neck. The warmth that had spread up his arm now spread over his chest. He shut his eyes, wanting to melt into the feeling. It was as if another person was pressed against him. It was a feeling he hadn't realized he missed.

He reopened his eyes with a sigh. He felt heavy. The key weighed practically nothing but, with the warm metal now pressing against him, all he wanted to do was lay down. He rubbed his left eye before pushing himself up from the floor. He stumbled back a few steps before letting himself fall onto his bed. He turned his head towards the curtained window to check how much light poked through the cracks.

There was none.

Ryan, despite the heavy feeling, pushed himself upright. It was morning still, wasn't it? Where was the sun? It took a moment of motivation, but Ryan got back on his feet to look out the window.

The night sky looked back at him. Clouds scattered the darkness, occasionally broken up by patches of stars and the nearly full moon.

Ryan stared up, mouth hanging slightly open. How was it night? He had just eaten breakfast with Patrick. How long had he spent looking over the box? He hadn't even gotten past the wooden box with the key and...

He grabbed hold of the key as he thought about the partially torn photo. He had loved that photo. He could remember the day they took it so vividly...

"No." Ryan dropped the curtain and turned his head to the floor. Tears refused to come as he took long, deep breaths. "No..."

If he just let them remain a hidden away pile of polaroids, they couldn't hurt him... They wouldn't hurt him again.

A few feet away from where he stood, Ryan could see the crumpled photo. Anger flashed through him. He took a running step and kicked the photo, sending it flying somewhere under his bed.

Seconds later, his anger was replaced by exhaustion. His legs didn't want to move; he could have dropped right where he stood. Instead, however, he made it to the bed and collapsed. The key pressed against his chest as he quickly fell into unconsciousness.