We Called it "The Box"
When I was little, there was this tiny concrete building at the center of the town’s park that a bunch of kids in the neighborhood used to play with. We didn’t know how it got there, but we saw the opportunity to turn it into a sort of “clubhouse.” We called this clubhouse, "the box." Our parents paid no mind to it. They were all just glad we found something to do in our quiet neighborhood.
It was probably the simplest “house” you could have laid your eyes upon. It was this cement cube. It had two windows, one on each side. In the front was this tiny mahogany door. It had this golden knob and it seemed like only the kids under the age of 10 could fit through the door. Nothing was interesting inside the box. It was actually pretty empty, but I guess our imaginations filled the room instead.
We did all sorts of things in it. We usually played typical games like cops and robbers, and other times, one of the kids would bring a lantern and a board game. We all remembered it. Any old friend that I had had a personal core memory about that box. But, no one seems to remember Brandon.
He was the kid who loved the box the most. It was his idea to get everyone to play with it. Yet, I feel like the only one who remembers the name, “Brandon Verde.” Not even his parents remembered him.
One day, I got a text from Brandon. He told me to meet him behind the drug store. I didn’t know if it was a scam or not, so I deleted the text and paid no mind to it. A couple of days later, I got another text from the same number. I deleted that one too.
Then, the day after that, I got a phone call. I didn't bother to answer it, but immediately after, I got a voicemail.
I got curious. So I played it. The first few seconds were what sounded like soft sobbing. The kind of sobbing a child would make. Then, I heard, “Somebody please help… I think I’m stuck.” My eyes widened with realization, it was Brandon!
Within a few moments, his voice started to sound more panicked, “Please, someone, anyone! Please help me! I think-. I’m stuck!”
Then his voice broke into desperation. His breathing got more labored, “Please help me! It hurts! Please help me! Please! Please! I can’t move! I’m stuck! I’m stuck! Let me out! Let me out! Le-“, then the message ended.
The moment the message ended, I went to the police. Nothing much happened after that, because when they looked up the number, nothing came up. Not a payphone, nothing. The search came up blank. Putting the whole thing up as a scam, they sent me on my way home.
That night I couldn’t sleep. Every time I tried to close my eyes all I could hear was Brandon’s panicked whimpering as the soot stench filled my nostrils. Every time I would open my eyes, though. Everything would cease. These night terrors have been going on for the past week. They seemed to get more intense each night. Brandon’s screams would get louder and the stench of soot would get unbearable.
One night, after deciding enough was enough, I got up, got dressed, grabbed my car keys, and drove to the drug store to get sleeping pills. The fifteen-minute drive was well worth it if it meant fixing my sleeping schedule.
Once I got there, I froze in my car. I checked my GPS to see if I made it to the correct address, but there it was… The box. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I was dreaming, and I wasn’t. There it was, perfectly centered and illuminated by my car’s headlights, facing the parking lot.
It looked as if it hadn’t changed at all, it was just taller. I left my car to get a closer look and once I got there, I noticed that the mahogany door looked as if it hadn't changed at all. The wood was not rotted, nor did any of the finish wear off. It was like brand new. My hand reached for the golden knob and turned it. When the door finally opened, I found nothing. It was the same empty room with the same soot-like smell that plagued my dreams. It was dark and humid, like all the heat of the summer was trapped in this place.
But then, I noticed something glistening on the floor in the center of the room. Curious, I started to try and wander towards the object, but the door seemed to try to close after me. I took off one of my shoes and propped the door open. Once I reached the glistening object in question, I heard the door slam behind me. The room darkened and the stench of soot polluted my nostrils. I looked behind me and my stomach dropped.
The door disappeared. The windows were gone. When I held my phone up as a flashlight, I saw something I wouldn’t believe. The corners of the room were slowly moving towards me. The room was shrinking.