She snapped awake, clutching at her throat, gasping. Her lungs ached as if something really had been trying to choke the life out of her.
Gran's box was sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. Vivian frowned. She was sure she had left it on the bookshelf. Gran had told her the box had a mind of its own but that seemed like such nonsense to Vivian now. Besides, that had just been some story for Gran to tell the children. She hadn't actually believed it...had she?
By the time the sun was up, Vivian felt thoroughly silly for allowing a dream to frighten her so much. Dreams were nothing but the workings of the unconscious mind. True, she hadn't had a nightmare in years but on the night following her Gran's funeral, she was hardly going to be dreaming about rainbows and candy-canes. And she must have moved the box to her nightstand without realising it. It was the only explanation.
Still, Vivian felt a twinge of unease when night fell. The shadows shifting through her flat seemed more menacing now, as if grey-skinned hands might burst forth at any second. Her nightstand was empty now except for the lamp; she'd moved the box into the kitchen. It didn't look quite right there either.
The nightmares were worse this time. Instead of grasping hands, whole skeletons climbed out of the lonely field, their eyes empty and blind but all turned in Vivian's direction. The air was heavy with the stench of blood and meat. The skeletons opened their mouths to speak but all Vivian could hear was creaking bone.
This was a dream. She had to wake up
Vivian lurched awake gasping. The blood stench still clung to her nostrils, so strong she could taste it. It was like someone had slaughtered a pig in her flat and she could smell everything spilling out of its body.
Take me back
The sibilant hiss slithered through her mind. Vivian bit back a scream. Gran's box was sitting on the nightstand, angled towards her. The wood-whorls looked like eyes glaring out at her.
This time Vivian knew she wasn't imagining things. She had left that box in the kitchen. There was no way it could have got in here unless...what if Gran had been right? What if the box did have a mind of its own? All those years Vivian had visited Gran's house and been forbidden to touch the box. What if Gran had a good reason for keeping it away from people?
The next morning Vivian took the box and threw it in the bin. It was silly to be frightened by a piece of wood but every time she looked at it, she got the feeling there was something sinister luring just at the corner of her vision. She was never fast enough to see it but it was there, a presence.
She hoped that with the box out of the house that would be the last nightmare she'd have, but that third night they were worse than ever.
It was raining in the lonely field, fat red blood-drops falling from black clouds. The creaking sound of skeletons trying to talk scraped against Vivian's ears. In the distance she could see a house and she started running towards it. As she drew nearer she recognised the front door with the lion's head knocker, and the flowers overflowing from their window-boxes. It was Gran's house.
Take me back
The voice lashed the air, deeper and angrier than it had been the night before.
Take me back to my house
Vivian gasped and clutched her chest. It felt like something had just hit her with a baseball bat. She fell to her knees as her lungs constricted. There was a dead weight on her chest, like something was slowly suffocating her.
When she opened her eyes Gran's box was sitting on her chest. Vivian screamed and threw the box across the room. The lid rattled as it hit the floor and that terrible voice came spilling out.
Take me baaaaaaack
Gran's house had been in the nightmare. That was where the box wanted to be.
Vivian grabbed her car-keys. She didn't want to touch the box and wrapped it in an old towel. As soon as she was in her car, the smell of blood and meat filled the air. Vivian opened all the windows but it didn't make any difference. Gran's house was three hours away from London but Vivian made it there in less than two, violating every speeding law known to mankind.
Gran's house stood dark and empty, the windows like sad eyes. When Vivian lifted the box from the backseat, it seemed to tremble in her hands. Like it knew it was coming home.
Vivian didn't have a key and the box wouldn't fit through the letter-box, but she couldn't explain that to it. So she did the only thing she could think of - she threw the box through the window. Amid the noise of shattering glass she thought she heard a deeply satisfied sigh as the box thudded on the carpet.
Vivian got in her car and drove away. She didn't look back.
It was years before she was in the area again. Despite everything she couldn't resist walking past Gran's house again. The flower-boxes and the lion's head knocker were gone. The door had been painted red. Vivian's steps slowed as she tried to peer through the window.
On a coffee table in the living room was the box. It didn't have a face but Vivian sensed that it was deeply content. It was back where it belonged.
Vivian never visited Gran's house again.
Credit To - Bella Higgin
Gran's box ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (long)
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