Tick,Tick,Tick Wind me up Watch me dance Shut me up When youve had enough Picking up the peices around me Leaving me untouched Dust on my tutu Twirl,Twirl,Twirl Watch me dance It’s quite a thrill Then walk away And come back another day Dance,Dance,Dance Upon my toes I’m tired now But nothing will I say For I love seeing your eyes Before you shut the lid And leave me in the dark

I stare at a blank screen for most of the day.

It’s dark and stuffy. The only I color I get is the exotic sounds and melodies floating through the cracks. The noise fills my heart with longing more than any light and color ever could. How I wanted to join in with the band. The constant orchestra, each having their own role. Their own place.

But I only get a few minutes to shine.

You open my home sometimes. Gently twist the key and unfold the lid. You wind up the knob in the side and I twirl to the music that seems to sparkle.

I take in all I can.

Your colorful eyes, the sunlight through the windows, the lacy curtains.

The smell.

It’s so fresh and lively.

Everything just feels so…

Clear.

I wish I could stay.

But you always tuck me back in.

Back home.

Back to my prison.

The lonely walls surround me in the music box while I dance away to its tunes. I listen to the tunes sing. While I dance in circles to its. It’s always the same everyday. Alone and afraid in my tiny music box. Barley ever opened. My music box is coughing up dust. If only somone cared about me and my music box.

All I hear is myself and my music box. The tune always the same as the other day. But the tune is getting older and more frail. Its bones are getting weak. It’s voice is getting softer and more croaky. I know soon the music box will die and I will be left all alone in its remains. Alone and afraid in my tiny music box.

I remained still and silent to all outside of my box, but the thoughts swarming my mind were impossible to cease. The questions were never ending. Who was I? Why was I stuck like this? Why couldn’t I speak? Why was I stuck in this freaking box? Those were just a few of the thoughts that plagued my mind. Then all of the sudden, light poured into my box; someone had opened it. Soft music started playing, and it was as if I had no control over my own body, for I just started to dance. I did love to dance, it was the only thing I could do anyways, though it was never by my own wish. Some unknown force was making me dance. But soon enough, the light and music disappeared along with my ability to move as the box was shut once more. So I simply waited, waited until the darkness was gone and so was my dread for the light. But for now, I was trapped, alone with my thoughts in this dark music box.

Inside the box, it was dark and lonely, but when I see light start breaking in, I get so happy that I dance. It is very rare that I get to dance, so I do it as long as the music, that always accompanies the light, plays. When the box opens and light floods in, I was always greeted by a giant smiling face with wide eyes and a smile with missing teeth. She would open the box often. Sometimes, I would see two other giants, much bigger than her, behind her. The smaller giant would often open the box, but at some point, I wouldn’t see the light as much and when I would, she seemed bigger each time. My last memory of the light was a long time ago; I heard a scream and then some strange siren noises, then complete silence. After a few hours I heard a door slam and sobbing. My box was lifted and opened. I begin to dance but slowly stop as I register the giant’s face. I had not seen her in a long time; she was much older, and water was running down from her eyes. “Why won’t you dance!?” she screamed. “Please dance!” she yelled. but I couldn’t. Her sad face made me not want to dance. Suddenly she burst into louder sobs, and I was raised into the air and quickly slammed down. I haven’t seen the light since. I miss the light. I miss dancing. It’s lonely in here. and cold. it hurts now too. I think I’m broken. Maybe I have been broken; I couldn’t keep the little giant, who isn’t little anymore, happy.

Once upon a time there was a ballerina box in an antique store and one day a little girl came over with her grandma and declared I want her and she got everything she wanted so of course she got it when she got home she opened it the ballerina danced and danced she kept it open and she kept dancing for 1 hour until the ballerina had enough she stopped dancing and glared at her then little girl Abby said grandmaaaa my dolly is broken ugh she is asleep whatever this was cheap anyways she said then she decided to break it by smashing it on the floor oh my goodness why I danced so much for you I danced all day without a break then she got shut oh my what a horrible child then she got smashed again this time she broke off then she cracked then she felt lighter her metal body was fragile ur now she felt free she was human but what happened to the girl she couldn’t be found when she opened up her old case she dropped it of fear they had switched places

Stuck. That’s how I feel. Stuck in this small jewelry box. Cursed to forever dance in the same place. To forever spin. Around and around. But that’s when it’s open. When it’s closed, I’m trapped. Trapped in this tiny box, forever. I like to dream though. Of being free. I could still be a ballerina, if I wanted too. I would love to actually dance. To actually move. Or I could be a singer. A florist. A baker. Whatever I wanted. But no, I’m stuck. I try not to think about it. The pain. The little girl makes things easier. I love to watch her dance to my music. She spins and twirls around her pink room. Jumping higher and higher. She laughs. If only I could join her. To dance with her. Laugh with her. She’s my human. My only friend. I can imagine us dancing together. She tells me she imagines it too. She loves to talk to me. If only I could talk back. But I’m stuck, in this jewelry box. Forever. If only I wasn’t Stuck.

The end

Mariettes life consisted of two things. Waiting to perform and performing. It was always so dark, waiting, always oh so dark. She would sit, twiddle her thumbs and fidget with her pale pink tutu. Sometimes she would stand up and try to peek outside through the little keyhole in her box. She never saw much though. She liked to listen instead. She stretched, practiced, and waited for her human to come and watch her perform. While she waited, she liked to think about the past.

She adored her human. She had known her since she was a grubby toddler who's jam covered hands would press the button that made Mariette perform and would dance alongside her in a sparkly tutu of her own. When her human was small, she would talk to Mariette. "When I grow up, I'm going to be a ballerina too!" If she could have smiled, she would have. She remembered when her human had given her her name. "You're names Mariette! My name is Lily! We're both ballerinas!" The toddler giggled and then pressed the button to make Mariette perform again. She performed almost all day back then.

As Lily grew older, Mariette performed less and less. She heard more and more though. Lily arguing with her mother, Lily playing pretend with her friends, Lily blasting music from a radio, Lily crying about a bad grade, and Lily excitedly talking about some boy to her friends. Mariette knew everything about Lily, she watched her grow up and she loved her like a sister. Lily had seemed to forget about Mariette though.

Now, Lily was a senior in high school. Mariette hadn't performed in over a year or so. She only knew because she counted the times the keyhole went dark, then light. 405 since the last time she performed. She thought about her last performance. Lilys friend had opened the box and pressed the button. Mariette jumped up, and danced with so much energy she thought she might fall over once it was over. She was proud of that performance. Lilys friend had just laughed, and said something like, "I used to have one of these. I don't know what happened to it." Lily just smiled.

Now, Mariettes life consisted of waiting. She wondered if she would ever perform again, or if she forgotten about. Lily was using a new word all the time. "college". Somehow, Mariette knew that her end as a ballerina was near. The thought made her want to cry, but she couldn't. She was just plastic after all.

She lives for the moments out of the blackness of her room. Moments when she is let out. Even if it is just to dance.

She often imagines the life before this colorless box of a room. Before the solitary sameness of every day.

A life of choice and time biking through the city in a sundress. Bare feet paddling on while smiling and grinning to the people walking along sidewalks in shorts and short shirts.

How the parks where full of young people sitting in circles, talking and listening to music. Playing games. Laughing. Cheering each other on. Throwing their hands up in the air when missing their mark. The woodden stick missed by an inch.

All these moments captured while biking past them on a hot summer day. The dress yellow and dotted. The hair loose and ruffled from spending the night with him.

Again.

Leaving as the one on top. The one needing the other less. The other left hungry for more. Slightly uneased. Unsure of their situation.

Being happy she was not the hungry one.

Life felt warm and happy. And so bright. Sun shining from a blue sky. How the shadow formed from rays touching the trees in the park.

Two girls shaking from laughing while walking next to each other as they crossed the park. Waving at a group of friends. Possible some boys they like.

All the little moments that she saw from the rush of her bike.

These are the moments she relived from the depth of the darkness in her room.

Not cold, nor warm. Less like a room at all. No windows or doors to open or close. No wind moving through the air around her. Instead it all stood still. As if time wasn't real in this room.

A blackness so thick it made reality disappear. She might as well be swimming in the depth of an ocean. Or gliding through the universe.

But even then, she would be surrounded by fish or a sort of life in the sea. fluorescent bugs or large octopuses. Or in space there would be stars. And stardust. The occasional comet or asteroid. Or a blinking sattelite would pass her.

She would see life in the depth of the ocean, or experience things out there in space.

She would see human innovation. Space stations with large space telescopes showing us what is out there in the great beyond even further into space. A blackness, but with moons and stars and the burning soon.

Here, there was nothing.

Not even a stir in the air.

A sort of prison that would be horrid, if at all it felt like it existed. Like she existed.

It left no hope.

But then the lid would be lifted. She would be blinded from the light. She would be deafened by the tiniest sounds.

A sort of temporary hearing loss from coming into existence again.

One or more objects would show themselves below her. Shiny artefacts that someone loved. That would feel the warmth of someone. Be close to someone.

Be part of the world somehow.

Move past things and people, see colours and hear birds churping.

Like biking down a summer street while passing people living through small moments in the blossoming park.

They would go out into the world.

But she would be stuck.

Forever turning and turning, being blinded and deafened. Only to return in the darkness of the box once more.

I live in my box, just stuck in an awkward pose; waiting for someone to open my box so I can finally move for their amusement. But, unfortunately, at this moment, it seems that my box is not “modern” enough for people to open it. I have been left inside my dusty, old, wrecked box, and that I am lost at some place. I would not know where….because I AM STUCK IN THIS BOX ….of mine so I can only see what is inside my box and NOTHING else. I am alone, all alone with no one, with nothing, but just me IN THIS STUPID THING! TRAPPED IN THIS….this box of mine, just….trapped with nothing, nothing……at……all.