Thinking Inside the Box

I opened my eyes to see nothing but black. Was I asleep, or was I awake? Was it day, or was it night? My thoughts were actively running so I deduced that I was awake. But where was I? I could hear the ruffling of Styrofoam. I could feel the stretch of plastic wrap. I tried to move but I was strictly secured, as if for my own protection. There was no light, no space, and absolutely no sense of time. I began to doubt myself again and question whether I was actually asleep and this was all an elaborate yet intimidating dream. All of a sudden I felt movement. I felt myself being pulled against gravity, as if I were being lifted upwards. And then thumped on a hard surface, I was dropped. I heard a pop of bubble wrap, the sound so close to my ears that it made me flinch. My immediate instincts were to thrash until I could break free from my restraints, but the more I tried, the more I tired. It was useless. I heard an engine turn on, and I was on the move again. Am I being kidnapped? Who put me in here? Where are they taking me? My mind was racing with thoughts, puzzling myself into a deeper mental constraint than the physical one I was already in.

I decided to calm down and think. I took a few deep breaths, but oxygen was tight in here. I couldn’t get a full gasp of air. “Listen to the sounds, maybe they will give you a sense of where you are,” I thought to myself. All I could hear was the engine roaring, and the shifting sounds of objects sliding on the surface that I was on. There was an occasional feeling of a bump; I was definitely in the back of a vehicle. I was being delivered. But where? I had already exhausted the same questions over and over in my head, still with no certain answer. The vehicle stopped. I tried to look around but I couldn’t move my neck, it was fitted perfectly in a mold of Styrofoam. My entire body was. I was essentially in a casket made of Styrofoam, I thought “at least this will reduce the cost of my funeral.” I liked to make humour out of stressful situations, but this was more than a stressful situation. This was disturbing. I heard something creak, such as doors being open. Somebody was opening the back of the vehicle. I decided to stay silent, until I was sure it was safe to make a sound. Again I felt myself being pulled against gravity, being lifted and put back down on a hard surface. Another pop of the bubble wrap startled me. I told myself I wouldn’t fall for that again. I felt myself being carried over some distance, and put back down on what I assumed was, the ground. Then, I heard a knock on the door. Who have I been brought to? At this point I was assuming the worst. I had been kidnapped, I had been put in this compartment, I had been delivered to some psycho killer who was going to put me in his basement and chain me to the wall. I would never get out. I was going to be tortured, I was going to be beaten, and I was going to die. “Keep me in this dark space” I pleaded to myself. I would rather be here then know what was going to happen next.

“Hello” I heard low male voice speak, however it sounded friendly. “Can I help you?” There was no response that I could hear clearly. “Honey? Did you order a package?” he said with a high pitch tone of curiosity. All of a sudden I hear a woman’s voice “No dear, I didn’t, who left this here?”

I took my chance and started screaming “Please! Help me! I’m stuck in here! Please let me out!” They couldn’t hear me. Was this soundproof? Seriously? But this was no time to be cynical.

"There’s no label on it, that’s very strange” the man said. “Honey, we should probably leave it alone and call the police” the woman responded.

“I’m begging you please help! I’m stuck in here and I can’t move! Please! Can you hear me?” I screamed to the top of my lungs until my throat hurt so much I started coughing. How could they not hear me? How could I hear them so well? Why couldn’t they just open the damn box and let me out?

“Yes hello? There is a box that was placed outside of our home. It’s quite large, but we never placed a delivery. What does it look like? It’s simply a rectangular shaped box covered in in brown paper. There’s no return label or anything.” I heard the man say. “Yes if you wouldn’t mind coming to look at it, I would appreciate it” he sincerely declared as he hung up the phone.

I’m in a box... that much should have been obvious. But what is it made of? They can’t hear me scream. It’s clearly not a cardboard box. Is that why there’s brown paper wrapped around it? So they can’t see whether it’s metal and sound proof? I kept screaming in between all of these thoughts to try to come to some conclusion that would help me get the hell out. But then I heard the door close and my heart dropped. It’s all right though; the police are coming so everything is going to be okay. Once they’re here, they’re going to open the containment unit and set me free. I just have to wait it out. I remember seeing on a show one time that a random crime show that a random deserted package can be assumed to be a bomb, so perhaps they will slowly take it apart. But I’ll be free. Suddenly, the sound of sirens travelled through my ears as though I was listening to Clair de Lune. It sounded heavenly. I heard a vehicle pull up, a door open and slam shut, and footsteps walk closer toward my ears. A knock on the door, and what felt like an hour but was in reality only five minutes, I heard the door finally close shut. Again, I felt myself being pulled against gravity. I was being lifted and moved toward the vehicle. What was going on? Why aren’t there more police sirens, cops speaking, radio transmissions, anything? I was thumped against a surface, and heard another door shut which I assumed to be the vehicle door. I was experiencing déjà vu. This exact movement and activity just happened to me, why were the police not helping me? Why was nobody communicating with me?

As time went by, I was delivered to several different homes. It felt never-ending. Each time I was dropped off the front door. Each time the residents would question the package, where it came from, why there was no label, whether they had even ordered a package in the first place. Each time, they would debate what they should do. Each time, they would call the police. If they didn’t call the police, they would ignore it and shut the door. Each time, they were reluctant because they questioned the safety of opening the package when the reality was that by not opening it, they were causing harm, to me. Each time I screamed for help, for them to just open the damn package. Just have some faith and open the goddamn package! Each time I heard the sirens, I again placed into of the vehicle. Each time, nobody wanted to trust. Trust. That is all it would take to save a human life, my life. But nobody trusts anyone anymore. Nobody trusts anything anymore. I began to wonder, would I trust a random package being delivered to my door? Would I also choose ignorance over curiosity? Curiosity killed the cat they say, but in this case it would save the cat. Actually, it would save a human. I then realized that I was no better, that I had never taken chances in life, and that I too never trusted. The collective lack of trust amongst people is what severs the capacity for us to take chances, especially on each other, and my part this is what would ultimately lead to my own demise.