Box

Every day, I went through the motions. In a home where my self-awareness peaked, overreaching any kind of normalcy I usually longed for. You could say that my life was so normal that it became abnormal. Too much of normal can eventually lead to abnormal.

Until came the day when the doorbell rang. I lived in an apartment on the second floor, as par for the course that sounded. Again, I was living a too normal life. What was normal anyway? Do you have to become middle-class to live a normal life? And those who are either poor or rich live an abnormal life?

It’s getting relative at this point.

In any case—back to the sound of the doorbell.

Once I’d heard the doorbell, I didn’t so much as hesitate as I opened the door and saw a box sitting in front of me. A packaging box sitting straight on the doormat. It was as if the delivery man had perfected the symmetry of its position. The typical reaction after seeing a package box that I hadn’t ordered would be to look to the left and the right, and down at the box, with a sense of either curiosity or confusion.

It was more like the former. I lowered my knees to hold the sides of the box, and surprisingly it was light. It was so light that I had to wonder if there really were contents inside. Another typical reaction after finding out that it was light would be to shake the box and feel its contents, and when I did shake the box, there seemed to be nothing inside it.

I closed the door and brought the box inside. On the box taped a paper that had my information: my name and my address. I felt tempted to record a video of myself unboxing and upload it on YouTube since I assumed it was going to be a bizarre encounter of sorts, almost like destiny had offered me this mysterious box.

I’m guessing that you’re familiar with the story about the Pandora box. But if you’re not familiar, here’s how the story goes: Zeus gave Pandora a box (this was called a jar in ancient Greece) but warned her not to open it. Since Pandora was created to be curious, she couldn’t stay away from the box and eventually opened it. Nasty things flew out of the box like moaning lost souls: envy, greed, hatred, pain, disease, hunger, poverty, and death. When Pandora slammed the lid back down, the last thing remaining within the box was hope. Since then, humans have been able to hold onto this open to survive the evils Pandora had released. Now “Pandora’s box” just now means that there are things that are best left untouched.

It almost sounded like I was digressing, but trust me—it might be related to this package box. Why was I suddenly overthinking about what was inside the box—if I could simply open it and solve the mystery right then and there?

I grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced the box in half. I slowly sliced it just to have that tension effect, hyping myself up over this mysterious box. I could fill in the pages to keep you on your toes, but I guess I was going to cut to the chase to keep my excitement at bay, or even to avoid getting my hopes up that it was a special box.

I flipped it open and looked into the box.

It was nothing.

Nothing was inside it.

I closed my eyes and sighed, and that may have been my look of disappointment—but I was simply relieved that there wasn’t anything bizarre inside the box. I’d even thought there was a timed bomb inside, and when I opened it, it’d explode. Fortunately, that didn’t happen to me, and I sat on the floor as I rested my hands aground, still holding a pair of scissors.

Now that we’d revealed the mystery, I set my scissors on the table and grabbed the box as I walked outside. When I opened the door with my other hand, something rattled inside the box. I opened the door halfway so I froze as I stared at the box, checking its weight with my one hand.

I closed the door and held the box both-handedly, shaking it. I went back inside and set the box on the floor and opened it again.

A pair of scissors.

It was a pair of scissors I’d used to slice open the box.

If I remember correctly (and you may correct me), I’d put the pair of scissors on the table before I grabbed the box and went outside. I picked up the pair of scissors and put it back again on the table. I stared at the box, confused, and planned on summoning the neighbor. But they might think I was crazy so I decided against that.

I grabbed my phone and checked the time. I opened a few apps: camera, Messenger, and YouTube. I closed it again. This time I put it on the floor to see if the table was the culprit for transferring objects into the box. I looked away for a second, glanced at the phone, and it was gone. Therefore, the table wasn’t the culprit. I opened the box and there it was—my phone.

Hmm.

This was getting interesting.

It seemed that anything I touched would be transferred to another place—but only if I put it down. Oddly enough, the box didn’t transfer itself into itself when I held it and set it on the floor—that’d have been paradoxical.

The typical conclusion of this story would have been me heisting money in the bank and efficiently transferring all the cash into the box, and if it was possible, I’d touch myself and get transferred into that little box as well.

Now that the silly thought struck upon me, I had another idea. Of course, that wouldn’t be the conclusion of this story, and it wasn’t as if I was going to give you a moral lesson. Don’t worry—there will be no moral lessons.

Leaving the box behind, I left my apartment and walked up to my neighbor. I straightened up and pushed the doorbell. A minute passed, and a girl opened the door. “May I help you?”

“Ah, yes. This may be a little strange, but can I lift you up and put you down?”

The girl stared at me as if she didn’t understand what I’d just said. “Is…that a pickup line?”

“Huh? N-No, it’s not a pickup line. I’m going to literally lift you up and put you down. It’s going to be quick, and I’m not going to harm you.”

“…So what am I going to do?”

“You can stand over here. I’m going to lift you from behind.”

She reluctantly complied with my request as she stood near me. It’d be awkward if I were to lift her up facing her, so I went behind her and readied myself. I moved my hands about, not sure how I was going to lift her—be it by the waist or by the armpits. I even almost forgot how to carry a person.

The girl looked behind at me with increasing suspicion. As she looked forward, I steeled my determination and held her by the armpits. I lifted her, her feet slightly off the ground, and I put her down. Thankfully, she wasn’t that heavy so I was able to lever her up.

“What’s this all about—” she began.

Her voice disappeared so abruptly that I had to give the terrace a blank stare. She disappeared. I snapped back and walked speedily to my apartment. To give the scene a flashy tension, I stared at the doorknob and gulped, ready to twist it and pull it out. I was scared because I knew that the box was too small for comfort; only cats would be able to snug themselves in. But a whole human body? It was unthinkable. The best-case scenario would be that the girl would be standing inside the box like a jack in a box popping out. The worst-case scenario… I didn’t even want to imagine it.

I opened the door, went inside, and found the box sitting in the center of the living room. I looked around to find the girl, and when I didn’t find her, I had no choice but to open the box. I approached the box with heavy steps as I stared down at it, my shaking hands ready to open it. I forced myself to maintain my composure as I reached for the box.

I opened it.

And—

“Honey?”

A voice called.

With my eyes wide, I looked behind only to find the girl standing near the door. She carried two plastic bags. I stared at her as she removed her slippers and smiled at me. “What’s wrong?”

“…Honey?”

Wait, what was going on?

Snappily I looked at the box with nothing inside it. I held the box and dipped my head inside, desperately finding something. “Did you order something, honey?”

“Why are you calling me honey?”

She set the two plastic bags on the floor and approached me. Smiling at me, she said, “Let me take a look at that box.”

I handed it to her and she held it with care. “Oh, it’s a bit heavy.” She set the box down on the sofa and opened it. “What?” She grabbed something from the box. She turned and showed me the bags. Two plastic bags. “Are you learning magic tricks? How did you do that?”

I set her aside and looked into the box. I noticed that my breathing had quickened, so I tried my best to stay calm. I looked at the girl and said—

“Can you lift me up and put me down?”