A Valeween Night To Remember

Advice

A single box.

That was all that Amity had thought to move from her room for safekeeping.

It was the one thing that if something, somehow, in some way went south, she wanted to keep safe, and had come up with a backup plan to keep safe, even when she hadn't been planning to stay anywhere near Blight Manor in the first place. Just in case.

She had left it under the bridge that led to Blight Manor the day before Valeween began, and retrieved it the day after Valeween ended. No one would think to look for it there. No one had.

When she glanced at the remains of Blight Manor, she was glad that she had had the foresight to move it.

Everything else in her room was easily replaceable. Her parents almost certainly had insured the Manor, and even if they hadn't, it wouldn't be an issue anyway. They had plenty of money. A few contractors from the Construction Coven, and purchasing of the materials needed - It would be rebuilt in no time.

What was going to happen was that when they realised the state Blight Manor was in - Burned to the ground - and had reconstructed it, they would send a servant to her, Emira, and Edric each, have them write all their lost possessions on a scroll, and they would be replaced within a week. Certainly not out of love, but a simple desire to ensure they were content. Content children didn't cause problems. Content children remained loyal. Content children obeyed.

Of course, it didn't work like that. Amity, Edric, and Emira were anything but loyal and content or obedient, but they all played along. Right now it was easier to. Pretty much whatever they wanted, they got, and there wasn't a point to encroaching their parents' wrath. Not now, anyway.

One day there might be, but that wasn't now.

Everything that Amity lost in the fire was immaterial. Books, posters, clothes, some awards. She wasn't even particularly fond of the room - No more than she was the rest of the house, anyway. It was all replaceable.

The box wasn't. What was in the box wasn't. What it meant to her wasn't replaceable.

Couldn't be bought in a store with money. Couldn't be traded for. Couldn't be attained in a material way. Because what was in there mattered to her, and to no one else.

You couldn't buy sentiment.

Amity placed the box on the desk she sat at, and opened it up. One by one, the items came out, spread across the otherwise empty table.

A stack of photos from her cork board. A Grom Queen tiara. And her diary.

Of all her possessions, these were the ones that she wanted to look after. Make sure they were safe. Because these meant far more to her than any other object she owned. They were mementos of the things that she had come to care for in her life, more than anything else.

Her friends.

And Luz.

Looking at all of them, Amity allowed herself a brief moment of thankfulness. These things were important to her, and she was happy to have saved them. Had had the foresight to save them. Because of what they represented, where they had come from, and what they meant to her.

Her friends... They made her happy.

Happier than she had felt in a long, long time.

The pictures she used to decorate her room served to remind her how different her life was now that they were in her life. Pictures of her with her friends, in all manner of activity. Every morning, she'd wake up, and see them, and remind herself that things were different now. Better. Remind her of new friendships formed, and old friendships she had managed to repair. Waking up with them there reminded her that it wasn't just a dream she had had, but was real. Really real.