There's No Going Back

Anna never knew there was another world trapped inside her great grandmother's music box.

***

On a gray, rainy Saturday in the middle of April, Anna found herself rummaging around in the attic for no reason in particular. She had just turned 14 and had already tried all of her friend's phone numbers that morning looking for company. And of course, she heard all the usual, sheepish and obviously rehearsed excuses answer on the other end.

"Can't today, gotta watch the dog while my parents are out," Susie stated.

"Wish I could, but I'm coming down with a cold, don't wanna get you sick," Lilly sniffled, ending the call with a dramatic achoo!

"I'm way behind on our English project, gotta get started on it this weekend," Beth claimed with a frustrated sigh.

Great. Just perfect.

Anna slammed the phone back on the plastic stand in the living room and cried for a minute. Her parents were working today. Of course they were.

Her mother was a nurse. She had been on call that weekend, but a nasty car accident on the thruway had sent her pager into a frenzy and back to the hospital she went. Her father was a plumber. A buddy of his had called about an issue with his boiler, so her father had gone to "take a quick look and see what he can do."

So Anna was alone for the day. Normally it wouldn't have bothered her. She would've ridden her bike around town, gone frogging in the creek behind the school, or constructed pixie cottages out of leaves, moss and twigs in the yard. But today was a wash out, which dampered her spirits a great deal.

But, there was always the attic.

Coated in a thin veil of dust and lit only by a single, solitary light bulb that hung by the hatch door, the attic was a neat enough place to explore on a day like this. Family heirlooms, photo albums and old memories were tucked away in the gloom, just waiting to be discovered again. Every now and again, Anna found the room irresistible.

She placed a stout stack of books in the upstairs hallway under the hatch door. Standing at just five feet and two inches, even on her tip toes, reaching the short rope to pull down the attic ladder was a tall order. She stepped onto the books and snagged the tail end of the rope with her fingertips, winding it around her hand so she could give it a firm tug.

With a groaning creak, the door opened slowly, the ladder easing its way down. She stared up into the dusty dark of the gaping doorway for just a moment, then began her climb.

***

The hours ticked by, but to her surprise, Anna was enjoying herself.

She had found an old wicker chair with plump cushions and made a nest where she could look at each attic artifact in comfort. Dozens of photo albums passed through her arms, each bursting at the seams with pictures of Anna as a baby, her mother heavily pregnant, her parents' wedding day, and so on. The last album she found had a faded leather exterior, the years clearly rotting away what was once a radiant red cover. Inside were pale, colorless pictures of her great grandparents, smiling in their wedding attire in a church that no longer existed.

She stared at their out-of-focus faces and wondered how different their lives might have been from hers. What did her great grandmother like to do on a rainy day?

An answer to her question drifted to her ears from the corner of the attic.

A quiet twinkling sound, almost like a wind chime, but there was a melody within it trying to break free into the dusty, stagnant air.

Anna closed the book with a firm thud and got up from her seat. She spied an old chest in the corner, no larger than an igloo cooler, like the one her dad would bring to the shore during their summer trips. The chest was filthy, weathered and peeling on the outside. And within it, quiet as a whisper, that twinkling sound.

She reached the chest and ran a hand over its latch. Unlocked. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open its lid and peered inside.

There, nestled in partially unfolded parchment paper, sat a music box.

It was about the size of her hand, ornate with royal blue and brass designs on the outside. The box was open, revealing an enchanting castle and lush surrounding landscape, hand-carved and painted, with a surgeon's precision.

And as Anna stared at the scene, she could swear it moved.

In the castle's windows and entryways, there were flickering lights, like burning lanterns warming the interior. The nearby stream appeared to actually flow, its waters deep blue and sparkling. And to her amazement, there were people. Castle guards posted outside, merchants selling their wares, mothers leading their children in the streets, even horseback riders racing each other in the rolling pastures nearby.

She blinked. Twice. Thrice. The movement didn't stop and the people didn't seem any less real. And she knew in the back of her mind it wasn't just that they seemed real. They were.

Anna sat there marveling at the tiny world living within the music box for what felt like hours. Everywhere she looked there was more to see, and the longer she looked, she found she could actually hear things too.

She could hear birds chirping. She could hear the gurgle of the stream and the breeze through the trees. She could even hear voices. She could hear the castle guards joking with each other, the merchants haggling with passersby, the mothers chastising their children for walking too slowly and the horseback riders egging each other on as their valiant steeds galloped.

She laughed in disbelief, wondering when exactly she had gone insane. She supposed she never had. The music box was more real than anything else she had discovered in the attic that day.

"Anna!"

Her mother's voice jolted her back to reality, sending the music box careening out of her hands and onto the floor. She tried to catch it. God knows she did. But her shaking hands wouldn't cooperate, and the beautiful box hit the floor with a hard kerplunk.

Anna froze in horror, staring down at the box. It was still open, but facing away from her. She couldn't hear the sounds anymore. The voices had suddenly quieted.

"Anna!" Her mother's voice rose up through the floorboards again. "You home?"

"Just a second, Mom!" Anna shouted back, still rigid. She felt like a very small child again, panicked and guilty, praying her mother wouldn't come looking for her and see the mess she had made.

She wondered what her great grandmother would think. Anna had never met her before. In fact, thinking about it now, she didn't even really know her great grandmother's name. But she still wondered. Had her great grandmother ever dropped the music box before?

Finally calming down a little, she sat up and got to her knees. Keeping her hand steady, she reached for the music box, her fingers curling around its base and turning it around.

At first, everything seemed fine. The scene looked almost exactly the same. And despite the fact that their conversations didn't appear to be carrying on like they had been moments before, the people seemed to be going about their days like normal.

But as she looked closer, Anna did notice the scene seemed to be expanding.

The castle seemed to be reaching further into the air. The pastures seemed to have spread out till their grasses brushed against the outer frame of the box. And the birds, as they flew between buildings and trees, eventually making their way to the edge of the scene, started to fly out.

Anna watched as a flaming red cardinal rose out of the box and hovered in the air just outside of it. She reached a cautious finger toward it, and rather than fly in the opposite direction, the bird flew to meet it. And just as her fingernail brushed against its feathers, in a puff of sparkling dust, the bird grew to full size, lightly perching on Anna's finger.

Rather than scream or jerk her finger away, Anna smiled at the bird. Its beady eyes smiled back, its nimble feet clutching its new perch firmly.

"Pretty bird," Anna said, petting its feathers with her other hand. "I'm not sure you're supposed to be out of your box, though."

The bird cocked its head and chirped, stretching its wings.

"I'm sorry," Anna apologized, glancing from the box to the bird. "I have to put you back. My mother's home, she gonna wonder what's taking me so long. I can come see you again tonight after supper."

The bird twittered again, cocking its head to the other side as it stared at her.

"Come on, let's get you home-"

But Anna froze as she glanced back at the box.

The castle was undoubtedly larger now, its towers reaching up, almost touching the box's lid. The pastures were overgrown, the grasses and vegetation now starting to inhabit the box's grooves and mechanisms.

But what scared Anna most of all was the stream. In the very short time she had been speaking to the bird, the stream had begun to pour out of the box like a miniature waterfall, creating a small puddle by her feet.

Anna poked a finger into the shallow pool. It was cold, wet and entirely real.

She wished she was dreaming, that it was just her imagination, but the cardinal perched on her finger and the puddle soaking into the floorboards beside her told her she was wide awake.

This enchanting, medieval world was starting to bleed into hers. And very soon—in a few hours, maybe even a few minutes—there would be far more occupying the attic's small interior than a curious cardinal and a waterfall the size of a water fountain's stream.

"Mom's gonna kill me," Anna sighed.