In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mystery Box.”
The room was dark. She pushed the blanket aside and jumped out the bed.
Stretching her arms to scratch her back, she yawned towards the chilly wind of the night.
Few minutes to Christmas, she thought, looking at her digital clock on the bedside table.
A brown envelope sat beside the digital clock.
The sound of a stray dog barking somewhere in the street woke her up. She slept early at 7 in the evening because of the work yesterday. She had to stay in the office to finish up her presentation tomorrow.
She stood on the soft carpeted floor and lit a cigarette.
She pushed the sliding window and let the breeze inside and blew the smoke out.
Her mother always reminded her not to do that. Her mother used to remind her when she was a kid. Now she is a successful film director at one of the prestigious Publishing Company in the country. A busy woman at work, she seldom visited her mother, who is now at the age 76 at Great River Village in another country.
Living with three brothers, she had to cope life with penises. She never had a penis and always wondered how it felt like to have one when she was at the age of 10.
At 31, unmarried, she consummated with a number of men in the past few years. Single, sexy and financially stable, she did not wish to live like her mother who having to depend the salaries of $3,000 a month from a civil servant husband.
Now her mother lives alone in a small house, far away from a city with a maid, paid by her. She only visited her once or twice a year, in the past 5 years. Since she became a famous film director who had produced three feature movies in Asia, she seldom had time to mingle with her other siblings and her mother.
Her father passed away when she was 20. She always blamed his death as a way to escape responsibility to take care of his children.
The phone vibrated. It vibrated, moved and slide off the bedside table and dropped down the carpeted floor.
She looked at her bed. A young man in his 22 laid under the blanket. She could see his shoulder, hard with muscle and a wide back like cobra. Thinking about going back into the bed made her shudder with excitement. This was her fifth young man in a month.
The phone vibrated on the carpeted floor. She looked at it. The caller was Izzam.
That was strange because Izzam was laying on the bed sleeping, she thought.
She pulled the blanket towards her, but it was heavy. It was as if her young boyfriend was made of stone.
Izzam wake up, she said. There was no response.
She pulled again. This time the blanket showed the bare skin of his back.
Slowly the bare skin of the man’s back grew wings crawling out of his spine. The wings came out like skeleton prying out the grave that sounded like two bones stretching one another.
At first she did not notice the bones crawling out like worms coming out of corpses. But when the man stared at her, the moonlight showed a man’s face with ripped mouth that looked like it was being stretched by pliers and eyes popping out of the sockets, with dark red blood oozing out of every holes on the face; eyes, nose, mouth and ears.
She screamed and clasped her hands to her mouth.
The man stared at her and said help.
Help me….Help me…
She closed her eyes and called out for help.
She tripped back and fell down the floor.
The man on the bed now moved towards her. He seemed in pain by the looks of his struggling effort to grab her.
Help me….Help me…
The flashing digital clock showed midnight. It lit flashing lights across the ceiling and showed the ugliness of the man’s face.
You are not Izzam, she yelled.
The zombie boyfriend found her and lurched towards her. She jumped aside. The man hit the lamp and the brown envelope.
The brown envelope dropped on the floor and exploded.
A blaring light came out of the brown envelope that sent the lunatic boyfriend away.
She now sat on the carpeted floor in a dimly lit room alone. The man was no where to be seen.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and sat quietly in the room.
She was shivering and scared. She did not know what to do.
She climbed herself up and stood. She heard a snore of a man on the bed. It must be her boyfriend.
Was it a dream, she thought.
The dream reminded her of the recent box office film that she directed.
Then she remembered the brown envelope on the bedside table. She approached it with caution and opened it.
This is mom. I have always wondered where is my only daughter right now. Your brother tells me that you are now one of the best film director in Brunei. That is just wonderful dear. I am so proud of you. However, I haven’t seen you in a while. What have you been up to?
I really really miss you Lin. I really really want to meet you. When are you coming back to meet your mom? I don’t need your gift. I need you Lin. I miss you so much.
The letter was dated 2011. It was sent six years ago.
Another letter dated few months ago was written in bold.
The letter was sent by one of her brother.
Tears slipped down her cheek when she read mom has passed away written somewhere in the fourth paragraph of the letter.
The man on the bed moved. She looked at him. It was the same face as before, but now with red eyes staring at her.