The Package

It was deafening, the ringing in my ears. People screaming...no...crying? Sirens all around. Blue lights blinding me, overwhelming me. Before I knew what was happening I was tackled to the floor. Everything went black.

I wake up, bloodied and sore in a white room. It looks very sterile and uninviting. Am I dead? Is this the afterlife? Or is it an operating theatre? Are my insides about to become my outsides? I see the cuffs gripping my wrists glinting in the harsh lights of the tiny room reassuring me that I am very much alive and in trouble. I hear the clank of the door as it heaves open and a gentleman walks in. He looks calm. His dark hair slicked back smartly, his dark suit crisply pressed, his shoes clacking across the cold floor. I feel relief as I see no scrubs of a surgeon so I am safe for now. He strides across the room, confidently, making no eye contact almost as though I am a ghost, unseen in this unbearable room.

"Where am I?" I ask him. He ignores me and begins wrestling with some papers from a large briefcase. I ask again "Excuse me, do you know what I'm doing here?" Again I am ignored. I wait patiently for a glimpse from him, something to let me know I'm not just a ghostly figure. Finally he glances up at me. "You are here to discuss the events of this afternoon, spare me no details, I need to know everything." I look at him perplexed. The events that happened this afternoon? "Uh? First I want to know who are you? Am I in trouble? What's going on here?" My voice trembles as thoughts flickered through my mind about what might be about to happen. The man ignores my questions and asks again, a little more urgently this time. "What happened this afternoon?" I get the feeling he's not going to give me any answers until I answer his questions. "I was working from home, I went out to return a package and all of a sudden I ended up here." I replied.

"Okay, here is what we already know." He tells me. "At 2:05 this afternoon we received a call from an elderly lady explaining that a young man, about 5 foot 10 had been seen getting into a Black Volkswagen with a large brown package. She said it was very suspicious as this young man has not left his house for months as she has been watching the neighbours to keep her entertained. At 2:15 we get a ping on a traffic camera of a van running numerous red lights and so many near misses of other road users that it is a miracle as to how the van avoided a collision. This van fitted the previous description. At 2:35 the van entered a local shopping centre car park where we saw a caucasian male of about 5 foot 10 leaving the van with a large backpack on. Passers by said they saw the man wandering around the same shop browsing the same dull sunglasses. At 3:30pm there was an explosion leaving 23 dead and 36 more with life threatening injuries. We found you at St George's Shopping Centre after the explosion. So I'm going to ask you again. What happened this afternoon?" His brow is furrowed, he is no longer the calm official that walked in.

I slowly clear my throat, gasping air in after the dump of information that has just hit my brain. He thinks I am a psycho killer? Me? An analyst from a small village? I quickly scrabble around in my head trying to collect my thoughts. I try to say something, anything, but no words come out. He stands and lunges towards me, his face close to mine "If you do not co-operate then I will be forced to make you." I flinch, cowering. I didn't do this! But how can I make him see?

Finally my brain has stopped flailing and I begin to think a little more clearly. "Okay." I say, my voice cracking a little as the word comes out. I wipe a tear from my eye before it splashes onto the metal table, before he sees my weakness. "I have been working from home for a few months, I have not left my home for anything, have been getting everything delivered. I have endless packages arriving at my house. Today I got something that was not addressed to me but was instead addressed to a Mr. J. Smith. I decided to venture out, since things are opening up again, to return the package to where I ordered it from. I got in my van and drove to the shopping centre, I had put the box into a backpack to help carry it, it was quite heavy. The centre itself had changed a lot since I was last there so I wandered around looking for the shop. It took me ages to find it so I stopped off to grab a late lunch. I eventually found what I was looking for and managed to return the package. I had only walked a few paces out of the shop before I was flung into the air by an almighty blast, my ears ringing. I was disorientated and tried to get up to get to safety. I staggered around trying to find air, trying to get away from the brick dust cloud that was seeping into my lungs when I was taken down by an officer. Then I woke up here. I have no idea what happened but it was not my package and I did not cause the explosion."

The mysterious man mulls over my words, furrowing his brow slightly. He looks perplexed. "A Mr. J. Smith? You expect me to believe John Smith sent you a package? That is the biggest load of b..." He is interrupted as the door flings open. "Sir there's something you need to see." A young man strides in, apology all over his face. "We have the wrong guy."

I'll never truly know what happened that day. But I do know for certain. That was not my package.