The Girl with the Magic Camera

WRITING PROMPT: If the title of the story is "The girl with a magical camera", what is the story about? Who is the girl? Where does the camera come from? Write your story.

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Part Two

The sun was barely up when Deeta woke up the following morning. Under the guise that she fancied a morning run, she dashed out the house. She trudged the path she took yesterday and found the shrub. She looked around to make sure no one was around. But before she could stop herself, she excitedly dug her arm into the shrub only to feel nothing but empty air. The bucket was gone. Whoever left it there had gone back and retrieved it. Deeta sighed and with a heavy heart, headed back home.

"Back so soon?" her mother asked.
"I didn't fancy running that much after all." Deeta shrugged, flopping herself on the sofa.
"Honestly dear, you can really get fickled minded from time to time." Her mother said. "Well, I'm off to meet Dad at the auction."
"Bye." she replied. "And get something nice." she called out. As soon as she heard her mother's car drive away, she switched on the television and flipped through different channels. She was not paying attention to the programs though, her mind was still stuck on the small chest. 'What a wasted opportunity.' she said to herself, remembering the the chance she passed up yesterday. Lost in thought, she did not hear the knock on the front door. Three more knocks, this time louder, and it snapped her out of her reverie. She dragged herself to door.

"Yes?" she greeted. But no one was there. "Hello?" she called out, glancing around. She had heard the other day that there were instances of neighborhood kids knocking on doors and then hiding from owners as a prank. 'Some things don't get old, I suppose.' she thought. She walked outside and checked if there were kids hiding in the porch. Then she stopped dead in her tracks. Sitting at the bottom of the porch stairs, like a taunting figure, was a bucket. With tiny steps, she made her way towards the bucket. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking inside. But it was empty, no small chest like she anticipated, save for a neatly folded piece of paper. Deeta picked it up. Beige and folded in three parts, her heart began to race. It was the same kind of paper taped to the small chest. She opened it.

"Good things come to those who wait."

She could feel her heart thump wildly inside her chest. It was the same handwriting as the one taped to the small chest. 'Did someone see me come back for that chest?' she thought. 'Did they follow me home?'

Panicked, she grabbed the bucket and went inside the house. She locked all the doors, barred the windows and shut the television off. Carrying the bucket with her, she went to her room and shoved the bucket under her bed. She hid under the covers and waited. She fell asleep clutching the note.

Deeta awoke hours later by the sound of her name being called.

Her mother was standing over her. "Did you sleep off the entire morning?" 

Deeta glanced at her wall clock, it was quarter past one in the afternoon. "

"I got up too early today, I guess." she replied.

Her mother shook her head in disapproval. "Well if you're wide awake now, come down and help me sort the things we got from the auction."

Deeta nodded then saw the note was still in her hands. There was little possibility but she knew she had to ask. "Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you leave a bucket on your way out this morning?"

"A bucket? No, dear I didn't. Why?"

"Nothing. I found one on the porch today."

"It's probably one of the neighbor kids."

Deeta decided to keep the note a secret. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Now help me downstairs."

"Okay." she responded. She tucked the note inside her pillow case before she followed her mother downstairs.

They found her father already unpacking most of the items from their boxes.

"Hey Dad, found anything interesting?"

Without looking up, her father replied, "We did. We even found something for your grandmother." Then he glanced up. His eyes beamed with excitement. "As a matter of fact, I even found one for you."

Horrified, she peered inside the box, "It's not another porcelain doll, is it?" she asked.

"No. There wasn't one."

"Ah, what a shame." she sighed.

"We can do without the sarcasm." her mother said. "You told us last time you didn't want anymore of those."

"So what'd you get me?"

"I think it's in that box over there." her father said, pointing at a small box near the foot of the table. "A little 'thank you' would be nice."

Deeta carried the box to the sofa and placed it on her lap. "That depends on what's inside."

Her father shook his head but smiled, nevertheless.

"Let's what's behind box number one!"

" Deeta said while opening the box. Her heart dropped. It was the chest, with the engraving 'Open it' staring at her in the face.

"Are you okay, Deeta?" Her father asked as color slowly drained from her face. "It's like you've seen a ghost?"

"I'm fine." she replied, forcing a smile. "I hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch." She stood up. "I think I'll make a sandwich in the kitchen." She took the box with her and settled it on the dining table. She stared at it, wondering how the chest ended up in her hands. "The note!" she gasped. 'Is this what the note meant? Good things come to those who wait?' She lifted the chest out of the box. She traced the engraving with her fingertips, wondering what it contained. Could it be a piece of jewelry? Could it be old letters from old lovers? A music box maybe? She lifted the latch and opened the chest. It was nothing she expected. Inside was an old-fashioned camera.

Disclaimer:
All photo credits go to respective owners.

The Polaroid SX-70 is just the basis for the camera but not the exact camera used.
:)