- One sock.
- A monster!! DA…I mean…MOM!!
- Nope, sorry, that was a sweater. I forgot about this one, I used to wear it when it was cold on the boat.
- My nunchucks. How else can I defend the family?
- Just some oregano. It’s my “pick-me-up” for when I’m sad.
- 30 boxes of pop tarts. Uhh I need to eat something with the “oregano.”
- A box. Within the box is a ball, a string, and a letter. The ball was my favorite toy when I was young; I used to bounce it for hours. The string is what’s left of the rope that tied the family boat to the harbor. I remember the day it snapped, the day my father took the boat and left us. As I’ve grown older and my feelings toward my father grow colder, I’m not sure whether I miss the boat or the man more. Within a week of him leaving I received the letter from him. He didn’t explain himself, he just wished me a good life and left me some money. I bought this box. Innocence lost.