The Box

Watching the grandkids helping me clear out the cupboards warmed my heart. Yes, they were being bribed with money and chocolate to do so, but still it made me smile. The youngest one trotting around in my old high heels, the other two pottering around looking for anything they could keep.

I was putting some old shirts into a charity bag, when I turned back to look at the children. The oldest two Shuana and Daniel were pulling out the mahogany box. No matter how hard I tried to hide it the smile on my face completely dropped. Pausing a little to let the shock of the whole thing pass, I called out to them to put the box onto the bed next to me.

Placing my hand on top of the box, stopped me cold. I became quickly overwhelmed with all of the memories flooding back. I called for them to sit around me as we go through the box. I open it and pull out all of my old photos. There were photos of their mother when she was a baby. She was always such a happy baby, and photos from my wedding. Just seeing Michael’s face again made me sad. It has been five years since he passed, but seeing his face was always bittersweet, I can just imagine him smiling back to me. Daniel is shocked to see how young I looked.

Shuana called for me, she looked puzzled. I asked her if everything was, ok? She replied “yes, it’s just, why do you have pictures of all of these people? Who are they?” I reached out my hand and she placed it into my hand, gathering more. Even without looking at it I knew what photos she was referring to.

“This is my family. My Mum, Dad and sister Laurel.” They asked me all the questions that they could think of, but the one they wanted to know the most was why didn’t they know about them? What happened to them? With some apprehension I thought that they were finally old enough to know the truth. Their Mother didn’t know about it, but I’m sure she’ll find out soon enough.

It was the early Nineteen Forties, my parents decided that it was best to move out of the city, to try to minimise the threat that came with the war. The house was in a small street. They were all dull brick buildings, the whole street just seemed to lack the energy of life. Pulling up to the house, it looked the same as all of the others. Walking into the house the first thing I noticed was that it was freezing. It was a July morning and yet it felt like winter. The paint was peeling off the walls and the floorboards creaked as we walked along. I just remember crying, mourning the old life, mourning the loss of my friends but most of all mourning the loss of my old home. This building might be our house, but it was not our home.

We spent the whole day unpacking things around the house and before we knew it, Mum was calling us down for dinner. Sitting at the cold wooden dining table, the house just seemed darker. I wasn’t hungry and pushed my food around the plate. Glancing over to Laurel I could see that she had barely eaten too, clearly the move had got to her as well. We finished up the night by having a bath, I was always the last to get in, so the water was always pretty much cold, so I was used to it. But this time I just felt miserable.

Laurel and I got into our pyjamas and Mum put us to bed, she was trying her hardest to get us all settled and to make us feel better. Even at my young age I could tell that she was trying her best to help us adjust and that she truly understood us. With a kiss on the top of our heads, she turned the light off and shut the door behind herself. I laid there looking up at the ceiling, trying to fall asleep. It was so difficult, and I was complaining so much that Laurel gave in and let me get into her bed and sleep next to her. Even though it was still horrible sleeping in that room, laying next to my sister I felt safe and was able to slowly fall asleep.

Laurel and I were woken to a large series of smashes coming from downstairs. I don’t remember what I was dreaming about but at first, I thought I had dreamt the noise but quickly looking at Laurel’s panicked expression I knew it was real. We laid their listening, too afraid to move or speak, we just put the cover over our heads.

The smashing continued, then we heard the door of my parent’s new room open slowly and footsteps making their way towards the stairs. All we could do was listen. Coming from the downstairs hallway, we could hear Dad shouting “hey, what are you doing here?” This was followed by more smashing and the sounds of thudding.

We were so focused on those sounds that we didn’t hear Mum sneak out of her room and into ours. Laurel peaked out of the cover and saw Mum coming towards us. She got on to the bed with us and we cuddled into her. When the noises continued from downstairs and there was no sound or sign of Dad, Mum decided that she needed to go and find him. She left Laurel and I cowering under the covers with a gap in between the draped sheets. She got to the top of the stairs; the footsteps stopped. A piercing scream fled into our ears. It was Mum, she ran down the stairs. All we could hear her doing was shouting our dad’s name, we could tell she was crying.

The sounds of our Mum crying and shouting my dad’s name didn’t seem to hinder whatever was making those noises. The footsteps continued down the hallway towards the bottom of the stairs. Mum let out another scream, screaming what on earth are you? She screamed again but this time the scream was snuffed out.

Laurel and I knew that we couldn’t just sit there anymore, we needed to get out. Before, we could even get enough courage to pull the sheet off us, there were footsteps slowly making their way up the stairs. It was making its way towards us. The door slowly creaked open, the light from the hallway filtering in through the opening. Through the sheet we could see a shadow, the shadow was large and hunched over. What ever was in the house was now getting close to us. It looked around the room and stopped. It headed back towards the door. Laurel and I moved the sheet slightly and we saw what it was. It was a large, pink, hunched over monster. It was not human; it was like something we had never seen before. As it made its way to the next room we made our move.

As we made our way down the hallway, I saw it again. I couldn’t help but scream. I shouted to Laurel for help. Just as with Mum the scream didn’t seem to bother it. We stopped and went into the bathroom and Laurel shut the door behind us. “Look Mia.” She paused. “It seems to”. “Only hear us”. “When we speak.” “In sentences of”. “More than three”. “Words.” “That’s where Mum”, “and Dad went”, “wrong”. At that point I was too scared and young to really question anything, so I kept quite and followed Laurel.

We got to the top of the stairs. Before, I could even look down, Laurel put her hands over my eyes. Not really understanding why and being the child that I was I moved her hand. At the bottom of the stairs, I saw Mum just laying there. Before, I could really think I screamed and ran down a few of the stairs shouting, “Mummy get up, you can’t lay there.” The thing that was in my parent’s room stopped its banging and you can hear the footsteps making its way towards the door. I turned and looked at Laurel, her face had turned a deathly shade of white and her eyes were wide with fear.

She shouted for me to run and not to stop and to just get as far as I could down the street, while she distracted the monster. That was now darting towards the stairs. Laurel shouted long sentences, and banged the walls. It seemed to work the monster was now following her. I listened to what she had said and ran down the stairs, I shouted for Mum to get up again, but I ran around her and out through the front door. I ran as fast as I could to the house at the bottom of the street asking for help.

They took me in that night. They did phone the police. Growing up whenever I would ask about what happened, they would tell me that it was a home intrusion gone wrong. Yet I saw it, I saw what it was, and it was no human. For years I expected it to come back for me. I was too scared to ever talk about it. That’s why I hid the photos in that box. But now at my age I no longer feel that fear.

The End.