Pham 1 Amy Pham Ortiz 4th Hour December 16, 2011 The Lingering There was a yard sale

down the street from Mrs. Ailing. A new family had moved into the old, rustic house that had been abandoned for decades, and they were mindlessly selling all that had belonged to the previous owners. Normally, Mrs. Ailing wouldnt think about going to a yard sale, but the occasion was so abnormal, she couldnt pass up the opportunity. As she made her way up the driveway of the yard sale, Mrs. Ailings eyes were already scanning over all of the relics. She was interrupted by a quirky and outlandish-looking woman. Mrs. Spuke, the new neighbor, greeted Mrs. Ailing with a warm smile. It was hard for Mrs. Ailing to concentrate on what Mrs. Spuke was saying, for she kept rambling. Politely, she diverted herself from the one-way conversation with Mrs. Spuke and headed to the far end of the yard sale. Mrs. Ailing grew disappointed as she was getting to the last of the trinkets and gizmos. Finally, she came across a meticulously crafted box. Its intricately carved design held Mrs. Ailings gaze. Her fingers gently lingered over the cedar and cherry wood, as if she were trapped in a trance. The box felt so comfortable in her hands; she knew she had to take it home with her. She proudly walked with the box in between her hands down the street, knowing she had made a great purchase that day. When she got home, Mrs. Ailing set the box delicately on the dining table and proceeded to the living room to take a nap. She fell into a deep sleep, but was awoken by what sounded like a faint lullaby. Still half asleep, Mrs. Ailing arose from the couch and plodded over to the sound. To her surprise, the box she had bought earlier was actually a music box!

Pham 2 Astounded, she shut the box and brought it upstairs to her bedroom. As she ascended, she stopped and had an intriguing thought. Who could have possibly opened the box in the first place? It mustve been her husband, she thought. Pushing that thought aside, she began to hum the catchy little tune that played while she slumbered. She began to notice how tired she grew the more she hummed the tune. Too much sleep, perhaps? Or maybe she was just hungry. Whatever the case, she stopped humming, but the tune played over and over again in her head. It began to deteriorate her awareness, but Mrs. Ailing didnt noticed. The next morning, she took the box with her to the dining table to eat breakfast. She didnt even have it for an entire day and she already treasured that box as if it were her own child. She was so caught up in the boxs uniqueness. Frazzled, she anxiously finished her bowl and went out onto the porch to further explore the box. Everything was extremely calm outside that morning no sign of children playing, no obnoxious dogs barking, not even the steady sound of the sprinklers spraying across the yard. Mrs. Ailing knew that once she opened the lid of the box, the hypnotic song of the music box would break the peacefulness, but she didnt care. She propped the lid up against the back of the porch swing in which she was sitting and listened mindlessly with her eyes shut. The minor melody danced around in her head; something about it was very mysterious. Why? She didnt know, and the curiosity lingered over her uncomfortably. The song was interrupted by Mrs. Spuke. Slightly annoyed, Mrs. Ailing greeted her with a pretentious smile. They made small conversation, but it was obvious that their attention was diverted elsewhere. Mrs. Spuke asked about the box that Mrs. Ailing found at her yard sale and she proudly went into detail describing it. She lifted up the lid for Mrs. Spuke to dissolve in the song. Mesmerized, they sat down on the porch swing and let their thoughts drift along to the moving

Pham 3 melody. The complexions of their faces grew ghastly pale. Their eyes were sunken and dark. Their bodies began to tremble. But in their minds, they felt alive and better than ever. Without thinking, Mrs. Spukes fingertips gently glided beneath the lid of the box and felt some sort of engraving. Together, they inspected the carved letters that read attendite a fine. What could that mean? Mrs. Ailing shut the box just before the song ended and took it into her house in order to further investigate. Mrs. Spuke followed behind her like a shadow through the eerie corridors of her home. When they got to the computer, they grimaced at the bright and beaming LCD screen. They were abnormally weak, but neither of them wanted to admit it. They opened the lid in order to copy the phrase verbatim. Putting the phrase into the search engine, it translated to beware of the end. The entire computer spazzed out and shut down immediately. Fright filled them and drew the life out of their eyes. Quickly, the both of them slammed the box shut and sprawled over the floor in terror. The sound of them panting rung in their ears, as if their own fear was mocking them. Surprise and confusion flooded their thoughts. Was it really necessary for them to act so silly? It was probably just a coincidence, right? But as they began to reassure themselves, the lid creaked open on its own and started omitting the tune. Mrs. Ailing tried to scream, but her fragile body couldnt handle so much power being exerted. The song echoed throughout her empty house, amplifying the horror. How could such a treasure to her end up becoming the one thing she feared most? Mrs. Spuke could no longer take her own madness and tried crawling towards the door to her own mental safety. The door felt so close, yet the notes that flowed out from the box grasped her tightly and kept her from escaping. The once peaceful and calming song transformed into an agonizing torture weapon in a matter of moments.

Pham 4 Mrs. Ailing opened her eyes to the familiar view of her front yard. The song was still playing. Her eyes glanced under the lid, and surprisingly, the engraving was gone. It was difficult for her to catch her breath again, but she was so relieved to have dreamt of the horrifying scenario. She quickly composed herself and woke up Mrs. Spuke to invite her in for a glass of lemonade. She told Mrs. Spuke about her dream, feeling extremely foolish. They both agreed that it was quite an absurd thing to dream about, but oddly enough, they both had the exact dream. They exchanged looks of deep concern that seemed to flush every drop of sanity in them. They both needed to get away from that box. Hastily, they scurried out and began walking towards Mrs. Spukes house. Neither of them felt safe nor put their minds at ease. They had little conversation, and any at all was to distract them from the terrible dream that left deep imprint in their heads. Once inside, they had a quick brunch and Mrs. Spuke gave her a quick tour of the house. What she initially noticed about the house was the wood. Mrs. Spukes house was built of the finest cedar and cherry wood, just like the wood of the music box. Mrs. Ailing couldnt help but feel like she was trapped inside her music box. The song faintly played in her head unwillingly, but this time it had the similar welcoming tone to it. The house built up the confidence needed for her to proceed back home, where the box was waiting for her. Before leaving, she noticed some marks on one of the wooden columns of Mrs. Spukes foyer. The marks were no larger than the size of a pinky finger, but they were highly distinct. It took some time for her to make out what it had read, but once she recognized the marks, her heart skipped a beat. The marks on the column read attendite a fine. Those evil words drove her out of the house faster than death could take a life. She sprinted as fast as her weak legs could take her. She wanted to escape, but her condition only permitted her

Pham 5 to go as far as her house before she collapsed. Her heartbeat was racing, in fact, it raced to the beat of that horrid song. She couldnt think straight - all of her thoughts were scattered as if the song had reached inside her head and jumbled everything around. Everything went black. It was strange to Mrs. Ailing because she had no idea whether or not she was dreaming. It was as if she was caught in between the realms of fantasy and reality. And yet the music box was still playing. She began to laugh. It started as a little chuckle, but it wasnt long before it grew into a gasping for air filled with ill humor. The thought of a simple song frightening her was suddenly hysterical. Laughing was, in a way, comforting. But with every laugh came a piercing headache that was too excruciatingly painful to hardly bear, however she would rather feel this pain than the mental frustration caused by that box. Her fear of the box eventually diminished. She lived day after day barely noticing it sitting tidily on her dining table. Her health began to recover and she found the initial appreciation she had for the box once again. However, she never did find the reason why she found it so alluring. Every time she laid her eyes upon the box it tempted her to open it. And even though she was no longer afraid of the box, she still didnt dare open the lid. As time went by, she eventually forgot what the song even sounded like, which was probably beneficial for her anyways. She forgot the tune, but the memories of what it had caused her remained imprinted in her mind. She had no desire whatsoever to relive that tormenting experience. Mrs. Ailing spent the day with Mrs. Spuke - they had become very close friends after all. It was a normal morning consisting of brunch, shopping, and sightseeing at various spots in town. In the afternoon Mrs. Ailing invited her over for some fresh lemonade and a dinner party hosted at her house later on. They, along with the other neighbors, were celebrating the one-year anniversary of the Spukes moving in.

Pham 6 When the guests arrived, they greeted each other and placed all their home-cooked dishes on the table, where the music box was also sitting. Dinner went very well and it was time for dessert. Mrs. Ailing excused herself to the kitchen to bring out the decadent triple chocolate cake she had made earlier. She assured her guests that it was to die for. Out of curiosity, one of the neighbors opened the box after having cake and the sound of the lullaby filled the room. Mrs. Ailing was paralyzed by the song. She just sat there in her chair, frozen and not able to do anything about it. She tried tuning the song out, but it just kept creeping back into her head. She listened as it intoxicated her body. It was weakening her the more she devoured into the lulling melody. But something was different. For the first time, she didnt recognize the tune. The song was slowing down. The sound of her own heartbeat was flooding her ears. She panicked. What would happen once the song ended? The very last note of the lullaby rung in resonance. In that very same moment, there were multiple sharp shooting pains attacking her chest. She got very warm and her breathing became shallow and difficult. She grabbed her chest and fell on the floor. The last thing she laid eyes on was the music box.