Letting Go.
1/1
The apartment was cold and desolate, the epitome of dingy. It only had one room, with a small kitchenette and a bathroom off to the side. The man who lived there sat in the middle of the main room, seated on the bundle of blankets and pillows he pretended were a bed. In his oil-stained hands was a delicate gold locket, the only thing in the room, in his life, that wasn’t bleak or colorless.
His clumsy hands fumbled with the dainty necklace, opening it to reveal the tiny picture inside. A young girl, no older than ten, smiled up at him brightly, a slight gap between her two front teeth giving her a quirky charm. Her pale face was framed by light strawberry blonde curls and her hazel eyes shone with a childish innocent. The locket and the picture inside it were the man’s most valued possession. It was the only thing he had to remember his baby girl by. He had kept the picture inside her necklace for ten years, since her death. He had held onto it as a symbol of holding onto her, and the thought of letting it go was like the thought of forgetting her, unthinkable.
He knew the locket itself was worth a lot of money. It was 15 carats of pure gold, and could get him the money he needed to pay this month’s rent. The salary of a factory worker just wasn’t cutting it anymore, but he couldn’t even fathom selling the necklace. Where would he keep the picture? How would he remember his little girl? He took one last look at the photo before closing it again, rubbing his hand over the front.
Three sharp knocks on the door startled him. He stood up, sliding the locket into his pocket before opening the door.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wright. My father sent me up here to see about the rent.” The chipper voice that greeted him belonged to the seventeen year old daughter of his landlord. Though there was a thirty year difference between him and the young girl, he couldn’t help but tolerate her more than the other tenants. There was almost a friendship between them.
“Good evening to you as well, Miss Maureen. Ah yes, the rent.” His hand went into his pocket, fingering the golden treasure hiding there. Her eyes flicked to his pocket and she smiled sympathetically, knowing what he was holding onto.
“She would have wanted you to have a home, Mr. Wright.” She said softly, turning to go. She hesitated in the hallway, glancing over her shoulder, giving him a warm smile. “I’ll be in the office.” She said, turning and walking down the stairs. He sighed, closing the door and moving to the small dresser. He pulled out the locket, opening it and looking at the picture one more time. He gently pried the small picture out of its home, setting it down on the small table, running his thumb softly over her face. He pocketed the golden locket, grabbing his coat and walking out of his apartment, locking the door behind him.
As he walked down the stairs stiffly, he thought fondly of his daughter, hoping that the locket would get him enough money to pay his rent and buy a bouquet of flowers for her grave. He smiled at the thought of yellow flowers for her, and realized that accepting her death and letting go of the necklace didn’t mean he was going to forget her.
His clumsy hands fumbled with the dainty necklace, opening it to reveal the tiny picture inside. A young girl, no older than ten, smiled up at him brightly, a slight gap between her two front teeth giving her a quirky charm. Her pale face was framed by light strawberry blonde curls and her hazel eyes shone with a childish innocent. The locket and the picture inside it were the man’s most valued possession. It was the only thing he had to remember his baby girl by. He had kept the picture inside her necklace for ten years, since her death. He had held onto it as a symbol of holding onto her, and the thought of letting it go was like the thought of forgetting her, unthinkable.
He knew the locket itself was worth a lot of money. It was 15 carats of pure gold, and could get him the money he needed to pay this month’s rent. The salary of a factory worker just wasn’t cutting it anymore, but he couldn’t even fathom selling the necklace. Where would he keep the picture? How would he remember his little girl? He took one last look at the photo before closing it again, rubbing his hand over the front.
Three sharp knocks on the door startled him. He stood up, sliding the locket into his pocket before opening the door.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wright. My father sent me up here to see about the rent.” The chipper voice that greeted him belonged to the seventeen year old daughter of his landlord. Though there was a thirty year difference between him and the young girl, he couldn’t help but tolerate her more than the other tenants. There was almost a friendship between them.
“Good evening to you as well, Miss Maureen. Ah yes, the rent.” His hand went into his pocket, fingering the golden treasure hiding there. Her eyes flicked to his pocket and she smiled sympathetically, knowing what he was holding onto.
“She would have wanted you to have a home, Mr. Wright.” She said softly, turning to go. She hesitated in the hallway, glancing over her shoulder, giving him a warm smile. “I’ll be in the office.” She said, turning and walking down the stairs. He sighed, closing the door and moving to the small dresser. He pulled out the locket, opening it and looking at the picture one more time. He gently pried the small picture out of its home, setting it down on the small table, running his thumb softly over her face. He pocketed the golden locket, grabbing his coat and walking out of his apartment, locking the door behind him.
As he walked down the stairs stiffly, he thought fondly of his daughter, hoping that the locket would get him enough money to pay his rent and buy a bouquet of flowers for her grave. He smiled at the thought of yellow flowers for her, and realized that accepting her death and letting go of the necklace didn’t mean he was going to forget her.