Do Not Open

It wasn't there when she moved into her apartment. Bryce would have noticed it immediately if it was. The brown box, wrapped in paper that said "do not open", just appeared on her kitchen countertop sometime in the night. All of the doors and windows were locked and double checked to be sure nothing would open them, but someone had to have dropped it off right?

For hours she stared at the box from her bedroom doorway. A tinge of fear beat through her heart, but why? It was just a box. Why would she be afraid of a box? With a quick exhale through her nose, Bryce approached the object. It was the size of a shoe box, but plain like cardboard. Aside from the warning written on the paper, there were no tags to show where, or who it came from. She picked it off the counter. It was surprisingly lightweight, almost like it was empty. Confused, she gave it a light shake. No sound or thunk against the sides. Maybe it was empty and someone was just playing a prank on her.

She contemplated just bringing the box to the police station, but quickly hushed the thought away. There was no reason to bring law enforcement into something as ridiculous as a box in her kitchen.

"You're overreacting, Bryce." She said to herself. "It's just a box."

Tucking it under her arm, she unlocked her door and tossed the box into the nearby garbage can. Being sure the door was locked behind her, she put the thought of the box out of her mind, and started a hot bath. After the week she had, she deserved to relax. No weird box was going to keep that from her.

Bryce stayed in that bath until the water went cold. With pruned fingers and toes, she wrapped a towel around herself and shook out loose drops of water from her hair. Through the veil of wet hair, Bryce thought her eyes were playing a trick on her. Sitting on the counter like it had never been moved at all, was the box. Perfectly wrapped in that brown paper without a crease in sight. No signs that it had been thrown in the trash. The only difference now was the writing. In bold red letters it read "DANGER: DO NOT OPEN".

"What the hell." Bryce swore under her breath, and cautiously approached the box.

With a worried glance, she looked around her apartment. No signs of anything having been opened or tampered with. Not a peep from the door or window that screamed like cats when opened. Someone had to be messing with her.

"This isn't funny anymore!" She yelled to the silence of the room, "Come out or I'm calling the cops!"

Nothing. Just the deafening silence around her. With a gulp of air, Bryce approached the box. She held the towel closer tightly around her, and took one last glance around the kitchen.

It had to be a prank. It just had to. If she opened that box it would be empty, have a haha note, or a dead animal sitting in there. The writing on the paper though. Why would a box be repeatedly sat here with a warning not to open it? What could be so dangerous about a plain shoe box? Bryce slowly grabbed the edge of the lid and broke the paper seal along the edge. Her heart thundered in her chest as she considered the possibility of a bomb being in here, but curiosity had taken over her movements. She had to know what was in the box now. Putting both hands on the side of the lid, she flipped it open.

If she told anyone what happened next, nobody would believe her. She hardly believed it herself, and she was the witness! Flying through every inch of her apartment were stars, literal stars! Galaxies, supernovas, meteors varying from the size of her palm to tiny pebbles floating in the air. Any color that you could imagine filled the space around her. Her jaw slacked with amazement as softball sized planets floated past her face. The universe itself was filling the apartment. It seemed to never end as more and more galaxies poured from the box.

Bryce wondered to herself how any of this could be dangerous as she held out her hands and held a star in her palms. She couldn't believe it. A star was in her hands. What would take humanity years upon years to explore, she could discover in just a few steps. Comets soared around her kitchen, maneuvering around her decor like it had a mind of its own. The sight of it all was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The smallest tug on the bottom of her towel pulled Bryce out of her amazement of the universe around her. She looked back to the box, noticing that stars and galaxies no longer poured out of it. The silence around her was becoming replaced by the sound of strong approaching winds. Like a storm was blowing outside her window.

The wind got louder and louder until it sounded like a freight train, and a black mass spilled over the box. Darker than black, it looked like nothing and everything at once. Very slowly, the nearest stars and planets started to be pulled back to the mass. Bryce felt the tug of the vacuum pull her towel and damp hair. Loose objects and small decor nearby were pulled from their shelves and disappeared into the mass. Anything not bolted down flew into the box, the universe also being pulled faster and faster as the vacuum got stronger. Bryce felt herself being pulled toward the black mass. Her bare feet slipped along the tile floor, the suction of the wind roared in her ears, and she panicked. Fighting against the pull, Bryce ran to her front door. Pushing planets and small meteors out of her way, she pounded on the door.

"Help! Help me please!"

Her voice was overpowered by the intense sound of the vacuum. Someone out there had to hear what was happening in here right? It was so loud, and she was so scared. Her feet flew out from under her and the black hole viciously pulled her to it. Desperately holding onto the doorknob, Bryce cried. The tears fell from her eyes and joined the stars and galaxies being pulled into the black hole.

"No! Please!" She sobbed.

It happened so fast, but felt like forever. The pull of the vacuum ripped Bryce from the door, she thrashed, cried, screamed, and begged. As the last of the galaxies disappeared into the black hole, so did Bryce. Swallowed into the darkness that had no end. The lid to the box closed. Silence enveloped the apartment once more. The box stayed on the countertop.

______________________________

One year later.

It wasn't there when he moved into the apartment. Daniel would have noticed it if it was. A brown box wrapped in paper that read "do not open" sat on the kitchen counter.