Brown Box

The boom that sounds around me shocks my eyes open. I'm tumbling around, hitting the siding of the brown box as it rolls. When everything stills I shove open my resting place and crawl across the broken glass scattered on the roof of the car and peek my head into the upside-down front seat.

The glass next to my head is shattered, the man in front of me is mumbling, his eyes closed tight and covered in blood and glass shards. The wooden box that held me in splintered and broken, the white dress I wear is smudged with blood and dirt and I can see myself in the reflection of the glass, my eyes foggy. The noises surrounding me are muffled, I can’t move my lips and my eyes struggle to stay open.

I feel heavy and wrong as I crawl from the mangled metal of the long black car. The man continues to mumble and a car races by before the human manning the machine slams on the brakes in a cloud of smoke and turns back around frantically, the woman driving looking fearful and worried. Her phone is to her ear as she clammers from her small white truck and runs to me and the black car, her eyes flashing panic and fear. Her hands close over mine as she begins talking.

“Yes, there’s a wreck, there’s a girl who appears unhurt but alarmed, I don’t know if there is anyone else in the car... Yes, I can check. Will you be ok dear?” I nod as she slips between me and the car and looks inside. Her frantic voice picks up again. “Yes, he looks about middle age, he’s hanging upside down, he’s covered in blood I think it’s his. Oh, um... I-44 East? Yes, right between the mile 23 and 24 signs. Ok, thank you so much!” She turns to me with a smile and reaches for my hand. “Oh dear, you’re freezing, what’s your name?” I try to open my mouth and speak but I can’t, I can feel something tearing inside my mouth as I do try. “Dear?” The sirens distract her and me from the thought of my muteness. Panic sears through me like a knife. I start shaking and my lips shiver, I back away from the woman and mumble as much as possible.

“Mh, mh, mh.” My head shakes back and forth faster and faster, my toes curl and my fingers shift to a position like claws, my eyes darting like a cornered animal. I don’t know why but all I can think is that they’ll put me back, they’ll put me back into the brown box and lock me away forever. The woman tries to comfort me by stepping closer and wrapping a blanket around me, but I shake it off. Her scream sounds sharp and loud, the skin on my arm is purple and black, the makeup rubbed off by my struggle against the blanket.

“That’s... That’s Patrick’s hearse... You’re Betsy Adams. No, no, you’re dead. That’s not possible you were murdered.” My mumbles grow louder, I’m not dead, no, no, no, no, no, I am not dead, I’m only 17, I was just swimming at the lake, it was only noon, then they appeared out of nowhere, but they didn’t drown me... I passed out but woke up under a white sheet and I couldn’t move but I wasn’t dead. NO NO NO NO. I wasn’t dead when he stapled my mouth shut.

“NOO,” the scream that breaks from my lips shatters the staples, but the scream doesn’t cease, it just keeps coming and coming and coming. Until the woman passes out and I run into the woods, never to be seen again except by the people who did this.

“Mrs. Adam, I’m afraid on the way to the service Mr. Patrick got into a car accident and Ms. Betsy’s body seems to have burned in the fire, another woman was found dead near the scene as well, Mrs. Barabara Wright, a retired paramedic, heart attack, probably from the shot of the accident.” The officer speaks solemnly to the Adams family but they aren’t paying attention.

“She got out” Mrs. Adams whispers to her husband.

“She’s coming” He replies solemnly.

“We’ll have to find her before she finds us and finish the job you were too weak to.”