Undead

He waited patiently. It had been several hours, and he was cold, hungry, and thirsty, but he knew better than to move too early. Shortly after the sun rose, the mother left, in her expensive foreign car. An hour later the three children left as well, walking the short distance to the bus stop. The father left soon afterward. He waited another several minutes to ensure nothing went wrong, and that none of them returned. At last he slipped out of his hiding spot. It was the perfect location, hidden from the front door of the home, but with a clear view to spot the family leaving. In addition, none of the neighbors could see his as he entered the basement window he'd prepared previously. He quietly closed the window behind himself, and began his mission. He gathered all of the things he needed, without touching anything barehanded. He knew where the money was kept, but instead of taking it all, which would immediately be spotted, he left one bill on top and packed the little envelope with paper so it would look untouched. He did this with everything he took. Disturbed as little as possible, and covered up his theft so that in every case it would not be noticed for quite some time, if ever.

He truly was starving, and took some of the leftovers from the refrigerator, making sure to clean up after himself. He drank milk from the carton, took bread from the middle of the loaf. Stole clothes from the laundry hamper. in each case he was careful. He was completely careful, until he saw the package on the cupboard. It looked completely abandoned, and unlike each of the items he stole so far, was unplanned. His mouth turned dry, and his palms clammy. If the took the plain looking box, just a small square, perhaps the size of a book wrapped in brown paper, it would be immediately noticed, but he wanted it. He had no idea why it seemed to affect him so. He reached out and touched the small package. It gave slightly, perhaps a small, mostly-empty box was inside. It made a dull thump sound when he tapped it, and it felt smooth and cool to his fingers. the nonsensical writing on the front of the box, subconsciously disturbing. Now he knew that it would be missed, as it was obviously meant for one of the children. He forced himself to leave it alone, as he continued gathering all of his spoils. From the back of the storage under the stairs, he took a book backpack. He gathered food, weapons, clothing, and money and started to leave by the backdoor, it had a latch that would lock behind him, and mask his presence. Eventually when one or more of the things were missed, weeks or even longer would have passed. He found that he simply could not leave. The package called to him.

In a convulsive effort, he grabbed the package, and ran for the back door. He scuttled back to his hiding spot in the back yard. He had eaten and drunk his fill inside, now he covered himself in a tarp, out of sight, and slept the remainder of the day away.

Some time later, as he slept the fitful sleep of the conscience ridden, the family slowly reassembled. First the mother returned home. She brought groceries into the house and started to prepare dinner. When she saw the package missing, a stream of tears ran down her cheeks, but she said nothing. Next the three children, all girls ranging from eight to fourteen. They seemed oblivious, did not seem to notice anything amiss, and did homework and other chores unbidden. A couple hours later, the father came home. His eyes immediately went to the missing package, as he kissed his wife. While he went about his normal predinner routine, he pointed out things that were missing, such as the money from the envelope on his desk. The mother nodded sadly, but nothing more was said.

The family ate dinner, talking of the events of the day. The girls seemed unaware of any tension, and the parents made no mention of anything amiss. Despite the undercurrent of tension throughout the evening, nothing more was said. When the family had all gone to bed, the father held the mother as she cried some more. "It's all we could do," he said.

"I know," she replied. They both drew comfort in their embrace, and eventually the drifted off.

Once full darkness fell, he took his book pack filled with belongings, and left the family, their home and the entire neighborhood behind. Miles later, he settled in a copse of woods on the outskirts of their city, wrapped himself up and settled in for the daylight once again. As he was starting to drift off, the touched the box again, tracing the writing on its face. In handwriting, it said, "Enjoy with love, Mom xoxo." He cradled the box unopened as he drifted off to sleep as well.