My story began 2 years ago when I moved out of my parents house and into an old apartment. Three other people lived in the building but we never really spoke. I’m twenty now but first let me tell you how I got here. I was born in 2000 and I’m an only child, I grew up in south London and moved to the countryside 4 years ago with my parents. I don’t really have any friends if your wondering I left them all back in London. Anyway, I live a fairly quiet life in my apartment; it used to be a hospital in WW2 and there is a lot of space that I haven’t filled. I realised this when I first moved in. I didn’t have much money and hadn’t found a full time job yet so I wasn’t thinking about filling the space at that time. That was until one of my neighbours decided to move out; he was an older man and most likely had to move into some kind of care home. He had loads of antique furniture that he was giving away for free so I thought I would take this as chance to fill up some space. I found a wooden chair and a beautiful wooden jewellery box. I haven’t seen that man since and no one has lived in his apartment for the past two years either. I put the jewellery box in my bedroom closet and the chair in the kitchen corner. I went to bed thinking nothing of it.