Chapter 2
You held your breath as you peered inside your backpack, making sure your touch wasn’t deceiving you. Sure enough, it was the same small, white box, with tiny emeralds encrusted on the rim, the same ones that guy gave you.
Your blood ran cold.
“I thought I threw it away!” you thought. “I remember going to the trash can to throw it away! How is it now in my backpack?” You continued.
You wanted to throw stuff at the walls, throw stuff at the floor, destroy everything that you saw, wondering if it would decrease the fear, anger, and frustration that had now come back and circled your head like a tornado. With all the work you needed to do for school, study for the exam coming, it was already way more than you can handle.
You reminded yourself you can’t worry or let a stupid box take over your mind. you needed to clear your head, and start working on your assignments. You had already wasted enough time.
You took out the rest of the papers that were stuffed in your backpack, and took out the box. You exhaled.
Because of what had happened, you didn’t trust the box. Not one bit. You certainly didn’t want to open the box to find out what was inside. Probably something that will harm you, who knows? But you weren’t going to risk it to find out. It was not worth it.
You tried finding a spot in your room to put the tiny box, making sure you would never ever find it in the future. When you were about to give up, deciding it was taking way too much time, you saw a massive box in the farthest corner of your closet.
You pulled it out. It was stuffed with your old memories. Your old diaries, pictures, trophies, papers with the word “Congratulations!” printed on them, everything was in there.
But you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to put it in there. Afterall, it was filled with your memories, and you can’t stop thinking how maybe one day when you grow older, you might go through this stuff, and find the troublesome box. But another part of you thought this was probably the best place to hide it, out of all the places in your room.
You took out everything that was in the box, and placed the small, white box at the bottom. Instead of putting things neatly back where it was, you just threw the stuff in the box. Not caring if it was messy. As long as it wasn’t in view when you opened the box.
If this didn’t work, and neither is throwing it into the garbage, then you don’t know what will. You had a couple other ideas, but they might not work either...but you were hoping it wouldn’t have to come to that.
...=`<^_____^>`=...
It was about one o’clock in the morning when you were finishing your assignments. You felt tired. Really tired.
When you were finally finished, you realized you hadn’t eaten dinner, but your brain yelled sleep. You weren't sure if it was a wise choice, but you went along with it.
You put on your pajamas and turned off the lights, then plopped onto your bed, and fell asleep.
...=`<^_____^>`=...
The next day came out normal. It was just like any other day. You went to school, talked with friends, received loads of homework, worked on homework until morning, everything was normal again.
You forgot about the tiny box, the man, the whole incident. The box didn’t appear in your backpack, didn’t do anything weird, it was in that box of memories. It seemed like the idea was working.
At least that’s what you thought…
...=`<^_____^>`=...
6 weeks later...
It was about 3:00 in the morning when you heard loud noises coming from your closet. You never believed anyone when they said, “3:00am is the scariest time.” Not that you ever knew what it meant. What did they think? Some monster gonna come out and eat you? Someone was going to summon ghosts to haunt you? You didn’t believe in any of that, but now, you’re starting to understand why they say that.
Purple lights showed through the cracks of your closet, and 2 minutes later, extremely loud crashing noises occurred, then another 2 minutes later, there was what seemed to be an earthquake.
You were too petrified. You couldn’t force yourself to check out what was behind those doors.
“What’s happening?!” You barely hear someone yell. No, not “someone,” it was Mom.
“Y/n! Unlock the door!” Dad shouted, loudly banging the door. It was unlocked. Why did they say it was locked?
“Mom! Dad! It’s unlocked!” You yelled. But the noises covered your noise.
Mom and Dad’s voices were fading, the sound was deafening. Time stopped, everything in the room flew around in circles like a tornado, even though there wasn’t any wind. You covered your ears, trying to prevent less sound traveling through your ears. The last time you checked there wasn’t much stuff in your closet other than clothes, and that massive box filled with your memories. How could clothes, or the box filled with your memories, make so much sound? Or, how is it even making the sound?
You didn’t understand anything that was going on. You tried telling yourself it was going to be okay, and it would turn out okay, but that’s technically impossible at this point.
Were you going to die?
...=`<^_____^>`=...
Your back was facing the closet, afraid to look at it. Your eyes were squeezed shut. The loud noises continued, and so was the shaking, and the tornado of books, homework pages, lamps, clothes, etc. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know what was happening, you didn’t know anything at this point.
One of the homework pages that you were working on before you went to sleep was circling around the room and cut your cheek, but you were too terrified to notice the pain.
It seemed like it would never end.
“Open the closet.” A voice said, somehow echoing the walls of your room. It sounded gentle and sweet. But you flinched anyway, but still covered your ears. It only made you more terrified.
You somehow knew that voice, like you heard it from somewhere, but not sure where. You ignored it. Your main goal was to try to stay alive.
The voice laughed. It was so similar to a laugh you heard before. It was on the tip of your tongue...
Then it clicked.
Tempting to answer him, and ask him who he was, exactly, and why he was doing this, you kept your mouth shut, though you weren't entirely sure if that was the best idea.
No
The voice laughed again, as if it were a response to your thought—which made you even more terrified.
Just when you were about to ask what he wanted from you, since it was getting scarier by the second, and you couldn’t hold the question in anymore, your mind went empty, and the room went pitch-black.