Cat Chengery- the key to growing up

Cat Chengery
Assignment #3
The key to growing up
He gave her one handful of keys, and one handful of caution. She could go into any room she pleased except one- it came with a small golden key that was detached from the set of hundreds. If he wouldn’t have given her the key to that room, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Sure the girl would have curiosity, but without the key- her knowledge of the room and its contents would remain in her fantasy. They would remain a part of her innocence- upon which that small golden key determined its duration.
Every time I face death, I lose a part of my past. I am robbed of any physical proof of my memories and burdened with the realization that they are, in fact just memories; recollections of events that may be real or not. Without another perspective account of the event, my objective mind gives into the ambiguity of the universe and I throw the remembrance away. It started when my dog Brandy died.
She was practically as old as I was, which for me was a teenager; for her, in dog years- ancient. I remember watching her dwindle down in size over the last few years of her life, and we began to expect her death. What a horrible thing to anticipate. I remember getting ready to go out to a party, some stupid get together I look back on with shame. My sister was home from college and noticed that Brandy didn’t look so good. I assured her that she was fine, that she had been looking worse lately since the last time she had seen her. But, my sister refused to accept that response, and crying hysterically took Brandy in her arms to the car. I was done getting ready, and my ride for the party pulled up at the same time. As I watched Brandy leave in the car, I knew she was going to die that night- and she did. She died before they could even get her to the vet.
Granted Brandy was a dog, it was my first experience with death. Sure I had lost many other animal friends in a list of varying species, but Brandy was my friend- more human than a hamster or turtle to me. When you’re young everything is indispensible. You constantly have adults supplying you with necessities, (and in America mostly at your discretion), and your concept of reality is infinite until you experience the loss of it. Once this happens, there is no going back. You’ve lost the sense of wonder that comes with youth and you’re now able to process balance of life. In worse case scenarios, tragic deaths hold even a stronger correlation with the loss of innocence.
The girl received the gold key, because it was inevitable. She went into the room, because she had the key and it was inevitable. It was a life test she was meant to have from birth. The success in the test is measured not by her power to resist the key, because once more, the key is inevitable; but it is in her power to comprehend and deal with the after math of the room’s contents.