The Gift of Darkness

In the wake of the Covid while the government had people on lockdown and reliant on state assistance. I seem to have found myself in a particular situation.

I received a rather strange envelope.

A large package folded in half and shoved in the tiny crevice of my mailbox, taking up the entire space. It was solid & hard to even pull out. No name or address, just a taped up manilla folder, with a red wax seal that accidentally came off, as I hastily yanked it out of the hole.

Whatever, I brought it up to my apartment, threw it on the table “Score” I whispered. I made my way towards the kitchen to grab something to cut it open with. Looking at the package from afar, it definitely wasn’t from amazon. No stamp or any indication of who or where it came from but I proceeded to open it anyway. I’ve always been like that.

The tape came off pretty easily, regardless to how thick it looked. It was all waxy from being roughed up earlier. I turned the envelope over without reaching in & dumped out its contents. Wrapped in withering linen cloth was something completely covered in the same red wax as the seal on the outside. Strange, it reminded me of the dyybuk boxes I seen on the internet. Except this wasn’t a box. Curiosity got the better of me & I started to pick off a section of wax in the corner with a pen. It revealed a thick plastic covering, of what looked like a bunch of index cards. I grabbed my trusty scissors and carefully started cutting. To my surprise the smell of herbs, oils and strong musk filled my nose and little pieces of what looked like ashes shot up, stinging my eyes.

“Shit man” I grumbled, thinking the last thing I need is some laced package during a pandemic . I blindly ran over to the sink and started neurotically washing my hands and face. Feeling deflated and pretty obvious that someone just tried to poison me. I turned around to see the package seemed to have had opened itself. The ashes were completely gone and even the strange smells had dissipated. Maybe it was excitement of what was laid out before me that I couldn’t properly think but there on my table it sat. Six thick stacks of $1000 bills and resting neatly upon it, a small black book.

The book seemed to made of leather and was the deepest of matte blacks. I could see the light being swallowed by it’s darkness. It was beautiful & seemed warm to the touch. I wish that darkness would’ve scared me or stopped me from flipping through it but it didn’t.

It seems to be some sort of journal. Chicken scratches really, almost looks like it could’ve been written by a child.

I started reading, basically it was a story of a man who beat and abandoned his childern while they were young. The story made me unbelievably sad. I could feel my heartbeat resonating throughout every limb & tingling throughout my body. I did my best to translate the scribblings before the tears blinded me. Then by the end of the last sentence all the feelings were gone. I wiped my face like I hadn’t been crying at all. I couldn’t, for the life of me even remember what the story was about. So, I decided to read it again but when I flipped back, the story was gone.

My head started aching. I was having a full blown migraine attack complete with those little light glitter, that you see when you get up too fast. The next thing I knew, I woke shivering on floor, nauseated. There’s a knock on the door. I couldn’t bring myself to answer it. I ran to the bathroom to puke. My head was spinning and I could still hear the steady knocking at my front door.

I see my face in the mirror looking drained and unfamiliar but shake it off. The knocking is patient & strong, as I clumsily stumble in its direction.

Everything seems strange. I don’t recognize this place, this room. My hearts still pounding in my chest and the knocking is doing my head in. I finally grab the door and swing it open & nothing. I swing around back towards the table and the book is sitting there seemingly waiting.

I grabbed a bag threw the money and book in and left post haste. I didn’t even know where I was going but I knew I had enough money to start a new life & no one was going to take that away from me.

I was in a frenzied rush, I felt like I was being followed. I called my sister and told her to meet me in town at a local car dealership. I bought the white, two door Jeep Sahara I always wanted and paid cash. It was so exciting, my body tingled and my head was floating. Why do I feel like I’ve lost something? I shake it off & I drove out of there like I robbed the place. Where’s my sister I call and call and I don’t even get a ring tone.

Now my phones ringing but everytime I pick it up, no ones there. There’s no background or white noise, just nothing. In darkness of the screen I could faintly see my distorted reflection & the feeling of losing something washed over me once more. In all the phone drama I have totally forgotten who I was trying to call and then I felt nothing.

I instinctively pulled over and got out, with no idea or destination. When the feeling of completely lost hit me, at least the tingling is gone. I can’t shake it. I hear someone yelling and footsteps quickly catching up behind me. He is a tall pleasant man handing me a drivers license.

“Hey you dropped this.” He grinned.

I grabbed it but handed it back “oh no this isn’t mine.” The look of surprise on his face somehow shook me.

He Stammered “but I saw you drop it...and it sure does look like you” he looked right into my eyes.

I inspected the card again, and uncomfortably laughed “No but it’s definitely not.” As I walked away I could feel his eyes watching me as I left, riding on my back. I picked up the pace to put some distance between us and turned into a small hotel. Funny, I’ve never noticed this place before. It was dingy but convenient. I just needed to get my head together. Checked in and quickly made my way to the privacy of my room, bag in hand. Sitting there in the darkness, it was hard to breathe. The atmosphere was thick and heavy. The feelings of anxiety and excitement were completely gone. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t feel anything. When I thought about I couldn’t hear anything either. Trying not to panic, I closed my eyes and my whole world went black. Maybe all this excitement & stress is getting to me. I need to splash some water on my face or something. My body seemed to float towards the flickering buzz of the bathroom lights. As I stood frozen in front of the sink, phasing out in the vastness of the drain. I finally was able to pull my gaze up and look at myself in the bathroom mirror. There in the reflection i saw nothing....nothing looking at me! Just darkness, a darkness so infinite it stiffened me, like a whole body cramp. Then I fell helplessly, backwards into it.

I’m not sure how long I was unconscious but I woke to the rustling & ripping sounds of paper. Then when I could see, there was a face, gazing back at me.

It was of a young woman, she looked kind. Her hands came straight towards the side of my face, cradling my cheeks.

I no longer felt lost or that I lost something.

I felt comfort & peace.

As she ran her fingers through my hair she yells out,

“Honey come over here it’s a book with a story of person who sold their memories for money”

I gasped, then screamed in soundless agony, as I hear them ......read my story.

Then when it was over the darkness took me once again and I was gone.

The End