pandoras box

Pandora is tempted by her box.

The whispers curl around her ears like banshees as she sits perched in front of the box. No one would know, it's okay. Just a peek.

Open it she can hear them say. The thought is oppressing as it is terrifying. She was told never to open it. That it was a terrible decision, but the thought captivates her all the same.

As if of its own volition, her hand glides out in front of her until it lands softly on the lid. Just one look, just one glimpse to see inside. A lump rises in her throat, tightening—choking. Pandora leans forward, thrill alight on her skin and-

Epimetheus yanks Pandora away, throwing onto the ground. She shrieks from the force of it.

“What do you think you're doing!” Epimetheus yells at her.

Frighted, she curls up on the ground. “I'm sorry dear. I was only cleaning the box, it has gotten dusty as of late.”

The man above her scoffs. “I told you to stay away."

His voice pauses, she knows he wants to say something else. Instead he only sighs.

“You truly are a hollow beauty.” his tone is distant—off somehow.

The flicker in his voice vanishes. “go tend to the garden if you wish to do something so bad.”

Pandora shakily climbs to her feet. Her head downturned towards the floor. She nods her head.

“Good.” Epimetheus sniffed curtly. “I don't want to see you until night, get going then.”

Pandora leaves toward the garden and begins to pluck flowers. She gently places them on the ground and into a pile. They lay by her side unmoving and beautiful in perfection. by tomorrow they will have grown even longer stems and they will serve the purpose of calming her husband's temper, he always enjoys seeing nature thrive.

Pandora looks down at the pieces of flora and pauses. She wonders how these flowers are still able to grow despite no longer being connected to the ground. Her eyes roam the creases of the petal and lines embedded in the stems. What interesting plants.

Pandora leaves the garden that night when the moon has risen high above her head, it would be dangerous to stay out too late for a woman. The wolves in the forest might sleep in the flower bed again and trample the barley budding blossoms, and the nymphs might try to whisk her away, by which she will feel too bad to refuse. It’s getting late so, she should go inside.

After a moment of no movement from her body she decides that she cannot hide from herself, for the part she doesn't tell will become far too curious. Even now she can feel the want for knowledge writhing within her bones.

The truth is it's not because of nymphs, or wolves—no. Something far worse.

But because the darkness in the trees had started looking enticing again. What's in there? She wonders insatiably.

Pandora dusts off her robe, making sure to grab the flowers, then she walks back home.

When she arrives in the bedroom Epimetheus is already sleeping soundly. Pandora watches him for a few moments before she pulls the slipping blanket back onto his shoulders. The flowers are gently placed beside the bed, the sight of something beautiful is sure to brighten his mood in the morning.

Pandora leaves the room and closes the door behind herself. There is something brewing inside her.

Her footsteps are poised and balanced as she glides to her destination. She is every bit as graceful as the gods made her to be, the epitome of the perfect woman.

Even so–underneath the skin her feet feel frantic. As if her feet are chasing a whisper her mind can’t silence. Her mind is poisoned with the thought, unable to escape the all consuming presence in her mind.

What. is. in. the. Box.
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One
Two
Three
Four

That is how many steps it takes until she finds herself standing in front of the box once more. The forbidden box that mortals must never lay eyes on. The one she knows she should not open.

Pandora kneels in front of the case and places her hands atop of it. At the first crack the lid burst open.

Smoke-like entities flood out. Her vision is blocked and panic consumes her mind.
Her arms flail around as she tries to scream. The sound barely leaves her throat before she is choking on the black fog, it obstructs her airflow. The smoke feels as though it is digging into her eyes. pandora gags on the protruding presence in her mouth. Shakily her arms struggle as they try to reach past the torrent of smoke.

Once she feels like the lid is in her grasp she slams the box close once more. She leans over the container, holding it shut as she coughs and splutters.

What has she done.

She thinks in horror of her actions.

What has her wicked curiosity unleashed on this world?

Suddenly the night feels cold and dreadful. No longer does the house hold the warmth it once did. Pandora sits by her box as she weeps in sorrow.

The door behind creeks open and Epimetheus walks in the room. Pandora had expected anger from him. Rather she is met with a look of dismay. He stays frozen in place with regret in the depth of his eyes.


In his hands he holds a sight pandora has never seen before. Her sinful curiosity, still intact–still aching to understand, can't help but stare at the object in stupefaction.

Her gifts from the garden rest in his clenched palm.

The flowers are no longer their lustrous color. Faded and wrinkled, the petals droop strangely.

The flowers are….wilting. Guilt burrows deep in her heart. Pandora has released death onto the world. This is a mistake that can never be fixed.