• Milo walked through the door of her bedroom, holding tightly to a small wooden box. She had spent most of the day sitting in a lawyer’s office, being read the will of her old grandmother. The old woman was the only real role model to Milo and it was almost unbelievable that she was gone. Her caretaker had found her in her reading chair in the morning, she had died sometime in the night. It had happened so fast and sadly, so did the funeral.
    Few people had come to her visitation and it seemed only close friends came to the actual funeral. Milo remembered that her grandmother kept to herself a lot but whenever they began to talk about boys or school the old woman would open up from her usual closed state. The stories her grandmother told were captivating. Milo would listen for hours to the old woman tell about her younger days. She told Milo about how she had met Michel, Milo’s grandfather, and how it was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
    One thing Milo had heard with every visit was how her grandmother was never able to forgive herself for misplacing her most precious piece of jewellery. It happened to be a pearl necklace. The necklace was one of the first special gifts of many, which Michel had given her. All the pictures that hung around the small one room apartment was with her always wearing the small string of pearls around her neck.
    She never knew where she had put the necklace or where she had put it. It was one of the things that she would always regret even to the day she passed away. Milo remembered that after hearing the story she had helped her grandmother look for it, but she was never able to find the hidden piece of jewellery. But now, Milo didn’t care.
    Throwing herself on her bed, Milo looked up at the ceiling. Her parents hadn’t come home yet from the lawyer’s office and most likely they would go back to work afterwards. Milo’s parents were work obsessed and put their job before their family. Throughout her life Milo could only remember spending time with her grandmother. She had practically raised Milo until the girl was old enough to go to school.
    Even then, Milo went to the old apartment building after school. Milo had always been forced to spend Sunday evenings eating dinner with her parents, whom she had nothing in common with. Taking a deep breath, Milo looked at her hands that rested on her chest. A small jewellery box rested gently under them. She watched her chest rise and fall, remembering what happened throughout her day.
    After dividing the money between family members and giving the china set to some person neither her nor her parents knew, the will came to Milo’s name. Hearing that her grandmother was giving her a jewellery box, Milo at first was excited. Now, after seeing the small box and how useless it ended up being, it made her even more upset.
    After all the time she had spent with the old woman, Milo thought she might have gotten something better then a crummy jewellery box. It upset her so much. The music didn’t work and she couldn’t use the box for anything because it was locked shut. The lock could only be opened with a key and of course, Milo wasn’t lucky enough to get the key with the box. It was likely that her grandmother lost it or sucked the small key up with a vacuum cleaner.
    It was going to be a dust collector. The box would sit up on her shelf for the rest of her life or it would until she wanted to throw it out. Rolling the small box in her hands, Milo looked it over. The pink and white painted flowers on the lid were pealing and the hinges were rusted. Even if she had the key to the lock, it would most likely not open because of the rusted hinges.
    Glancing over at her desk, Milo eyed a pair of scissors sitting next to her laptop. Maybe she could pry it open, but then again the box would be useless, if she broke the lid off. It would have been useless even if she didn’t break the lid. It would just sit there doing nothing. At least if she broke the lid open she would be able to put things in the box. She didn’t even care if the music didn’t work. As long as she could do something with it.
    Grabbing the craft scissors from her desk, Milo opened them. Taking the box in her hand, she rammed the blade into the crease of the box. The wood splintered as she wiggled the blade back and forth. Still the lock didn’t pop, it didn’t even budge. Pulling the scissors out again, Milo wedged the blade in-between the crease.
    “Come on you piece of junk, pop!” Milo grumbled more then a little annoyed that her idea wasn’t working. Once more the lock didn’t pop and the box now seemed to have war wounds from her feeble attempt at breaking it open. “I can’t believe this.”
    Throwing the box onto her bed, Milo watched as it bounced onto the floor close to the door. Why did it matter anyways? She didn’t have anything to put in the box. Milo only had plastic jewellery from when she was six. No one had ever given her a nice gold chain or a ring or even a cheep bracelet. She wasn’t into that short of thing. Hearing as the front door to the house opened, Milo could hear a murmuring at the entrance.
    “Milo?” A soft woman’s voice called down the hall. “Milo, you home?”
    “Yeah mom,” she replied in a monotone voice as she dragged herself out of the room. It was fine when she was alone before, but now her mom probably wanted to talk. Her parents only started to care about Milo after her grandmother died. Now that her grandmother was gone Milo’s parents were finally stepping up to the plate. Sadly, Milo thought it was a little to late to try and make up the time. “Why aren’t you at work?”
    “We thought that spending some time with one another would be good,” her father answered as he tugged on his left boot. “It’s been a while since we’ve bonded.”
    “Yeah,” Milo replied. The last time she remembered them bonding was the past Sunday evening. Even then her mother was in the home office for most of the night and her father was using his blackberry at the dinner table. “Bonding would be good…but.”
    She had to think fast to get out of spending time with her parents. It was boring just sitting there waiting for them to be done their work to pay attention to her. Milo knew she was going to lose the fight against technology if she tried. Seeing as her parents looked at her, Milo couldn’t seem to think fast enough. They were waiting for an answer and were obviously becoming impatient as they looked at her.
    “I was working on a project, so maybe another time.” It was a lie but at that point she didn’t care. Milo didn’t want to spend time with her parents. They were obviously forcing themselves to spend time with her, anyways. Diving back into her room, Milo closed the door quickly before her parents could say anything more. “Now what to do with myself until dinner?”
    That was a good question; she had no homework and no projects. She could search things on Google and see what she could find. But, of course that had proven to be dangerous many times before. She could read a book but there was nothing she hadn’t read before. Giving a sigh, Milo leaned against her door.
    Her room was a cluttered mess, but so were most teenagers’ rooms. Pushing off the door, she walked back over to her bed. Feeling as her foot knocked against something hard, Milo looked down. On the orange and yellow carpet was the small wooden jewellery box.
    Once again the useless box had gotten her attention and again it was in her hands. She looked the box over. Maybe she could spend her time prying it open. There was nothing else to do. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Milo twirled the box around and around. There was no possible way of opening it, other then to break the lock. The cherry wood varnish was worn and so were the felt pad at the bottom of the box. A small music key rested at the back between the two rusted hinges. She twisted it but like earlier that afternoon when she had first gotten it, the key popped out from the hole it was placed in.
    “Stupid piece of junk,” Milo growled now even more upset with it. What was the point of having a jewellery box if it was unable to be opened? Sure her grandmother kept a lot of broken things around her apartment, but most of the useless things had been thrown out. Not this though, Milo hadn’t been lucky enough.
    Dropping it on the floor again, Milo wanted to see if it would bounce or just roll across the carpet. To her surprise as it hit the carpet, she was able to hear a faint clatter of something inside the box. Unsure of what she had heard, she knocked the box with her foot. She hadn’t heard the noise before when she had tried to pry open the lid with the scissors. But, of course she could have been too distracted with trying to open it to even notice such a faint noise.
    Picking up the box again, Milo held it to her ear. Shaking it slowly, she was able to hear a faint clatter again. It sounded like small stones being knocked together. Almost like a rainmaker, one she remembered making in grade three. Now Milo wanted to find out what was inside. She just had to.
    Rolling across her bed, she grabbed hold of the craft scissors again. This time she wasn’t giving up. She would run over the box with her parents’ car if she had to. Ramming the blade into the crease, Milo twisted and wiggled but still nothing happened. The box now had more splintered edges and pealing paint.
    Pulling the blade out of the crease, she went for the metal tarnish lock. The metal blade scraped against the lock, pealing metal away from where the two metals met. Wiggling and jiggling the scissors continuously didn’t seem to be working. She pushed harder and rested the box onto her lap. The faint clattering noise from within the box seemed to sound like a faint heart beat. As she wiggled and jiggled the scissors some more, Milo couldn’t wait to see what was inside. CLICK!
    “Yes!” Milo shouted in triumph. The lock was broken and the lid was loose. Now all she needed to do was pry open the lid enough if the rusted hinges would let her. As she dug her finger nails into the crease it seemed almost like child’s play pulling the lid up. Tipping the box to its side, Milo shook the box of its contents. The clattering noise was followed by a slither of white into her hands. “It can’t be.”
    Looking down at her hand, Milo couldn’t believe her eyes. Sitting in her hand perfectly still, were the pearls. The soft white pearls attached to a delicate silk string. A small gold latch held the piece together. Milo had heard the stories and had seen the pictures. She had heard how precious the pearl necklace was to her grandmother. Looking at the box again and then back to the necklace, Milo couldn’t believe her eyes. At first she couldn’t understand why she had gotten such a useless object from her grandmother’s will. Now though, Milo was happy that she ended up with her grandmother’s most precious possession, her pearl necklace.