Fear In A Box

"I am tired of life," Stacy complained to her support group of three long-time friends as they enjoyed their weekly dinner at The Food Place. An inviting and comfortable family-owned restaurant a few miles from their hometown. Which served tasty and soulful meals.

"My life keeps going in the wrong direction. No matter what I do, and which route I take I keep losing myself. It’s like I don’t know who I am anymore."

Nodding, Yvette encourages, reaching out to caress her right hand, then consoles,

"life isn’t perfect for any of us."

Sitting across from her, Anna encourages, "life lessons are in everything we do."

"Obstacles and trials are sent our way to strengthen us," Lani encourages, caressing her left hand as she sits beside her. Stares into her eyes and suggests, "after the life we live, the past is not the route you want to take. Forward is the way to go."

"I feel so lost directions doesn’t matter," Stacy said, pushing back the pain. “Even if it’s going back.”

Her three friends, who were a part of the struggles, hunger, pain, hatred, poverty, and everything else negative life threw their way as children that they fought and survived, which made them stronger as adults, stared at her in shock.

The pain of the past they were forced to endure connected them and took them to a place they vowed to forget. Only the three of them were yanked back. Stacy seemed to have forgotten what hell tasted like and was.

Pain sometimes prevents us from forgetting its taste and power, thus forcing many of us to do the right thing.

But what will become of the ones who forget?

Three weeks later, Anna, Lani, and Yvette got a group video call on WhatsApp from frantic Stacy. On the video was a brown box about eighteen inches by seven and the same depth, sitting on the coffee table in the living room.

In minutes, they were inside her home.

"Look at the address," she demands nervously, pacing around her living room surrounded by a bubble of dread.

Her three friends sighed deeply after reading the address, fear spreading across their faces.

Lani asked, "how did he find you?"

"That means he might have our addresses too," Yvette wondered.

"He still is incarcerated and is thousands of miles away," Anna tries to calm her friends' minds, hearts, and souls.

"Why don't you open it?" Lani suggested.

"Why don't you?" Stacy shouts while glaring at them.

"It wasn't addressed to any of us," Yvette reminds her.

"And it's a federal crime to open other people's mail," Lani adds.

"I won't tell anyone," Stacy coaxes.

Her three friends nod in refusal, easing away from the box in fright. Minutes later, they left Stacy's apartment, the box untouched.

For three months, the box of fear sat on the coffee table in her living room while Stacy slowly slipped over the edge. And her friends avoid going to her home.

It was her birthday, and they met at The Food Place to celebrate with her. Despite the happy atmosphere inside, the sadness and fear that accompanied them refused to be ignored.

Lani gave her a beautiful card with a gift certificate for a complete spa treatment. Anna gave her a gift certificate for a manicure and pedicure for a month.

Three hearts stopped when Yvette left and returned with the box that was on the coffee table in Stacy’s living room.

Eyes popped, hearts slowed, and fear took control as Yvette opened the box and took out a doll that looked like Stacy.

Along with a letter from him.

Yvette read the letter, and these words melted away the fear and pain threatening to rob them of their sanity, "I am sorry for what I did to you. You were the real deal. I wasn’t myself when I hurt you. Not being able to be me, complicated my life which pushed me over the edge. This doll I made from my memory of you has reminded me that being genuine is the only way I will survive in this hell I have created for myself. One which I forced you to share with me by being cruel to you. Satan doesn't like the ones that are real. When life beats you down and everything seems to be going wrong, go back into yourself. The solutions are there, loaded with strength, knowledge and wisdom. That will guide you into the right direction forward. I hope these words helped you. They helped me. Please forgive me. Ken."

Silence pushed everything away, briefly. In tears, Stacy said, "Damn, he is right. Lately I have been feeling as if I am losing myself. My manager teased that when I am my self, I do a must better job. She was right, also, my life isn't complicated and I am happier."

"Well," Yvette said. "He died five months ago. The prison has a last wish for prisoners who die in prison. His wish was for them to find you and give you this. I opened it from the bottom and read the letter. You were in hell. This is a way out. Happy birthday!"

Sometimes, Fate and Destiny convened at the perfect moment and time, doing what is impossible for mere humans. The right words at the right time are nourishment for the body, mind, soul, heart, and life.

Thank you for reading this piece. I hope you enjoy it.