Some experts in the field I received my degree in express that the person is made up of our memories and that certain triggers - sights, sound, and smells - can make you relive that moment. First let me express the vision that came over me for some brief seconds... There I stood the end of grade 3 not my best year but there had been some memories (see above). My locker stood before me - a sanctuary of all my private things from notes from BFF, or my my little pony stickers. My locker was a reflection of my troubled 9 year old psyche. Organized with the things that were required textbooks, my stickers, and my jacket. Down in the lower half of my locker lay something darker. A hodgepodge of papers, worn sweatshirts, old gym shoes, discarded garbage and papers laid the area of my locker known henceforth as the void. I merely added to the void, never ever ever venturing to remove that which had been passed into its depths. I had seen voids in others lockers and in my own in the past but never had one in my 9 year old memory been so compressed and intimidating in general. As memory serves I had attempted to compress the void half-way through that year in order to fit my fluorescent pink snowsuit in. There may or may not have been jumping on the void in an attempt to compress it. But no matter, there I faced it, the end of the year it was now my duty as given by my teacher that year to clean out my locker. Provided with a garbage bag to keep the things I wanted to keep and a garbage can for the things I wanted to discard, I stared at the void for a long moment. Did I remember having trouble closing my locker in the past? I twirled my scrunchy formed topknot eying the pile - I truly did not remember owning a green sweatshirt but there packed in with the rest of the void was the arm of a green sweatshirt. But never minding the odd thoughts that went through my head at that moment, I had a mission...

My mom who knew - as moms will - that this day was coming. The day I would trudge home with a garbage bag full of things from my locker, she expressed that she would like me to try and find my lunch box that I had begged her to buy me at the start of the school year. My mom has the craziest memory for Tupperware. I hardly remembered that - from what my 9 year old memory told me it had gone missing some time in the first months of school. It was just as likely to have ended up in the void or traded to my BFF for a cool locker sticker or cherry Chap Stick. Focused now after the moment of due silence for the awe striking beauty and horror of the void was over, I started to dig in, pulling out a pile of papers from our music classes short stint with the ukulele. Many things pulled from the compact void went straight into the garbage including recyclable paper clothing and other such items. Some were covered in gum, some I just didn't want anymore. I can feel my mother frowning in the back of my head now, but this was my locker and anything lost in the void was mine to choose its future. It was going faster now that I had dislodged a pair of snow boots that looked like they still fit, throwing them into the home bag, I saw my prized velveteen rabbit diorama. It had found a nestled safe zone in the void and had been removed relatively unchanged from its experience. Poor Velveteen bunny, loved and then discarded...with a sigh I remember the love I had for that book and placed the diorama gently on the bag of keepsakes. The Lower levels of the void had the consistency of real Scottish oatmeal... I enlisted BFF to help pry some more items from the pile. She was the only one I trusted to see into these deep levels of my void and my psyche - even though she had embarrassed me completely 3 months before all was forgiven when she apologized and then we played like 3 hours of secret of mana on her snes. Pencil crayons, more paper, clothes, all covered in a sticky hard substance... dislodged and in the trash. There I was left with the lowest level of my void nestled in the middle of my locker, was the prize I had been hunting for. Pink hard plastic, with a handle on top and a stylized Barbie sticker on front lay my lunch box, lost so many months ago. I remembered why I had begged my mother, Barbie or Disney movies were my favorite thing at any given time... it would be another year before Barbie was left behind for more exciting things. How my parents would dread going anywhere with me because my Barbie’s would have to travel too. One bag for me and another for the collection.. Only for long trips, they were typically left at home doing school hours. Safe not to be lost in the void.

I grasped the lunch box tightly in my hands like it was made of glass... it was like new I had treated it like gold until I had thought it had been misplaced. Brushing off the top slightly with my hand, I stared at it - there had been no dust to brush off - its cocoon in the void had kept it from of such contamination... Why had she fallen into the void... It didn't make any sense.. I loved this lunch box. But at least she was back...

I casually opened the lid to see if the patented Barbie thermos was still inside. My vision went black the worst smell that had reached my 9 year old nose flooded my nostrils and caused an explosive tear duct reaction. Quickly I shut the bio-hazardous carrier. And was it not for my left arm remembering my mothers orders my right arm would have flung the putrid holder in the filling trash can. My mom can't want this back; it has grown its own intelligence and is bent on killing anything that smells it. So sadly I dragged my garbage bag of keepsakes out to the car with the container of toxic waste at arms length. My mother was needless to say not impressed but through the miracle of mothers spit bleach and ten other cleaning supplies the lunch box was saved until about 6 months later barbie lost her place at the top of my heart.

Today I opened my bag which I keep a good amount of the material I saved for projects I’m working on in. My goal was to work out some ideas over my lunch hour. Unfortunately when I opened my bag I went into a sort of lucid trance of 15 years ago and needed to write now everything down so that I might remember the things long forgotten. Merely a container of Motts apple sauce that had gone rogue in the bottom of my bag.. no official damage to idea land merely a mess on the bottom of the bag.

The End

- Marie-Claire

Sometimes I wonder about you...

EMAIL ME DAMNIT