Pandora's Box

Today should be a lazy day, lounging around in my pyjama’s, eating junk food and anything that would never or will ever be classified as healthy whilst watching movies all day. 

A classic Disney movie day. 

Just me, myself and I, an unbelievable amount of snacks and movies. 

No visitors. 

No interruptions. 

Biting into the custard-filled doughnut, the smooth yellow custard oozes from where I had bitten as the dusted sugar coats my ruby red lips and pale thin fingers. My attention is all on the movie playing on the television. One of my all-time favourites.  101 dalmatians. 

Cruella De Vil 

Cruella De Vil 

If she doesn’t scare you 

No evil thing will 

*Knock, knock, knock* 

I whip my head around from the television to the front door, wondering who dares to interrupt my movie day. 

Another three knocks on my front door are quickly followed by my own dalmatian, Shadow, barking at the possible intruder. Her barks grow increasingly louder as I near the front door. Hastily I push my keys into the lock, turning the keys until the door clicks unlocked.  

Opening the door I am greeted by a postman, his red coat a contrast to the bleak, grey English Winter weather surrounding him. Underneath his right arm was a cardboard box, no bigger than a shoebox. 

I’m expecting him to ask me to take a parcel for a neighbour that isn’t home, but he just hands me the parcel.  

“I didn’t order anything” I state, raising a questioning eyebrow at the postman. 

“Are you Pandora Matthews?” He asks, just as confused as I was. 

“Well yeah” 

The postman just points at the label printed on the box and sure enough, it reads: 

PANDORA MATTHEWS 

83 PARK AVENUE 

MANCHESTER 

M88 9QR 

I shrug my shoulders at the postman, maybe I had ordered something and simply forgot about it. The postman just prompts me to sign for the delivery, I scribble on the machine before thanking him and closing the door behind me. 

Should I open the box? 

I think better of it, you never open a box that you aren’t expecting. You never know what will be inside. It could be anything. 

A gift. 

A bomb. 

A severed hand. 

I may have watched one too many horror films but nevertheless, I place the cardboard box down carefully on the worn dark brown leather footstool. A reminder that I will have to, at some point, open the cardboard box. Completely in the dark about what it could hold. 

I jump back onto the sofa, my legs crossed underneath me. My focus momentarily returns to the movie still playing on the television. But the gaze of my bright blue eyes adverts to my dalmatian, cautiously sniffing the cardboard box, trying to figure out what was hiding inside. 

She stops sniffing the box and abruptly sits down, just staring at the box. She begins to whine as if there’s something in the box that she wants. Above the sound of her excited whining, a ping came from the box. Almost like a notification sound that you have when a phone receives a text message.  

Should I open the box? 

Inadvertently I shake my head, the curiosity of what is inside the box flowed out of my head and down my ebony relaxed black curls with every shake of my head. 

Seeing that I was no longer paying attention to either her or the mysterious box that she so desperately wanted, Shadow eventually stopped whining. Shadow joined me in returning to our movie day, curling up next to me. She only moved to peek her head up every time the box would ping. 

A realisation struck me a few hours later, like lightning it was sudden and caused my thought to fork off and race in different directions. 

Whatever was inside the box was no longer pinging. 

I didn’t know when it had stopped pinging or why. 

Was it a good thing? Maybe whatever was inside broke and it is now safe to open the box. 

Or was it a bad thing? Maybe it is now just a waiting game before the bomb inside exploded. 

Should I open the box? 

Once again I think better of it and return my attention to the great mouse detective, Disney’s answer to Sherlock Holmes. If only I had the ability to deduce like Sherlock, I would be able to know what was inside the box without opening it. It would probably have something to do with the weight and size of the box and what sound it makes.  

The shadows grow and lengthen as night falls. What also grows is the uncanny feeling that someone was watching me. My every move. But all I can see when I look out of the window are the stars twinkling in anticipation against the midnight blue canvas of the night sky, wondering what I would do with the box. 

Should I open the box? 

No.  

Whatever is in the box can wait until morning. When I am awake and ready for whatever the box holds. 

Drawing the curtains closed, I begin to get ready for bed. I lock the front door with a satisfying click of the lock before turning off the television. 

My fingers grazed the light switch, I am just about to switch off the lights when I hear a singular ping coming from the cardboard box. 

Should I open the box?  

Yes. 

My curiosity had finally gotten the best of me. 

The stars that once twinkled in anticipation dulled, and only a handful dared to peek out from behind the brewing stormclouds to see what was inside the now open cardboard box. 

A dog bone with a neatly tied red ribbon around it also held a small handwritten note. No wonder Shadow wanted to get into the box so desperately. 

Picking up the bone, I read the note. 

This should keep your 

Dalmatian quiet 

;)  

I’m not quite sure what to think of the bone or the note. On the surface, it seems like a gift but I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it was menacing. 

Next to the bone, was another box. But this one held a phone. Hastily, I opened the box and turned on the phone. You could see that there were hundreds of messages from an unknown number before the most recent one. 

Good Night Pandora  

Furrowing my eyebrows at the message being displayed on the phone. How did they know I was getting ready for bed? 

As I was looking absentmindedly at the phone, wondering who sent the box and why, when a ping brings me out of my thoughts to see a new message. 

You will see me really soon Pandora Matthews 

A shiver bolts down my spine, people say I will see you soon. Which means… 

They can already see me. 

Turning on every light in every room in the house brought me little comfort as I checked every room in the house brought me little comfort as I checked every room in the house for the person that had clearly been watching me. Maybe they still are. My phone clutched in my hand had 999 ready, just one press of a button and the police would be here. 

But I didn’t need it. 

The house was empty. 

Just me, myself and I. 

Feeling slightly more relieved, now that I knew that I knew that no one was in my house, I kept the lights on as I finally went to bed. Somehow, I eventually fell into a restless sleep, the contents of the box playing on my mind. 

Unbeknownst to me, a storm raged into the night. Wind howled. Rain slashed at the windows. The shadows grew and came to life, stalking the people who dared to still be awake. 

The lights went out. 

The shadows enveloped everything in sight and beyond. 

The storm raged on. 

Lightning forked across the night sky, temporarily fighting away the shadows in a flash of light.  

All except one.  

Waking up to the unmistakable feeling of being watched, my hair stood on end as I sat up in bed. Immediately greeted by a shadow of a man filling my bedroom doorway, behind him the hallway light flickered like a candle. There was just enough light to see his eyes. 

They were black. 

Completely black. 

Darker than the shadows haunting the house at night. 

He wasn’t human. 

“Who are you?” I ask, somehow courage coursed through my veins turning me into a brave hero instead of the scaredy-cat that I normally am. 

But the courage is quickly frozen as my blood runs cold. 

“I am your worst nightmare”.