After living in Bridgewater, NJ at the
Riverside Condominiums for a little over 7 years, Greg pretty much knew
everyone in his building. And though he wasn't a gossiper or one to get
into his neighbors business; he did enjoy striking up pleasant conversations
whenever he would run into one of them.
Six apartments, including Greg in C-1,
make up the only building in the small cul-de-sac: Judith, a 34 year old widow
and mother of two; Joe and Lizzy, a couple on the verge of marriage; Patrick, a
twenty-something basketball coach at a local high school; George and Ruth
Horowitz, an elderly couple that live next door to Greg; and in apartment A-2,
Chuck, a nurse at Bridgewater Memorial Hospital.
It was late afternoon on September 30th
when Greg noticed a package outside of Chuck’s apartment. The box was
made of sturdy cardboard and was almost big enough to touch the doorknob of the
front door and by no means was this box small. Due to Chuck’s late hours
and online shopping obsession, there was always mail outside of the door.
The next morning, October 1st, Greg was in
a rush. He hurried out of his apartment, locked the door behind him, double
checking it, as he does every morning, and walked down stairs toward the front
door. Before leaving the building Greg turned around to check and see if
the package was still there; it was. Greg thought nothing of this.
As he headed towards his car, he passed by Chucks beat up Camaro. This
struck him as odd. After contemplating going back inside to knock on his
door, he realized what time it was and he had to get to work. Besides, Chuck
had probably just worked the late shift and didn't feel like bringing the box
inside.
Later that evening the sky was dark blue,
almost black with a haze over it. The wind was chilling and the air
smelled of rain. It was the perfect weather for the first night of
October. Greg pulled into his parking spot and collected his phone and satchel
before opening his car door and getting out. He quickly walked to the front
door of the building, trying to forget how badly he had to pee. He swung
the door open and the first thing he noticed was the package. Greg hadn't seen Chuck’s
car in the parking lot but then again, he wasn't looking. Hesitating for
a moment, Greg decided to be a good neighbor and grab the box and bring it
upstairs.
The box was surprisingly heavy.
Greg, who was ill prepared to lift something that heavy, tripped and fell
into his neighbor’s front door. He was annoyed now. He knocked on and
then walked in.
"I hope you know I almost pissed my pants!" Greg said as
he waited for a reply.
Greg looked down at the box and took a
deep breath and as he was about to lift the package, he noticed a note on the floor.
It had his name on it so he unfolded the torn piece of notebook paper and began
to read it.
"Hey Greg...do be a solid and bring
this upstairs...I'll stop by tomorrow to grab it. Thanks man."
He
shrugged a bit, crumbled the letter, put it in his pocket, picked up the box
and then proceeded to his upstairs apartment.
As he reached the door, he lifted his left
leg, moved the box into his left arm and the rested the box on his knee. With
his right hand he turned the doorknob and opened the unlocked door. Greg
slowly put the box down and ran to his bedroom; he hadn't even turned the
lights on. The flushing of the toilet was the only sound in the quiet
condominium.
Greg came from around the corner, shut the
front door he'd left opened and then turned on a small lamp. He pushed the box
over to the couch with his leg and then plopped down next to it. Reaching into
his pocket, he grabbed his phone and quickly typed, and sent a text message to
Chuck. Within seconds he heard chime. A few moments later he heard it
again. Greg looked at the box. Praying that what he heard, and where he
heard it come from was a mistake, he sent Chuck another text. Seconds
later he heard the chime again, followed by the same sound moments later. It
was now obvious to him as to where the sound was coming from, and though Greg
knew he probably shouldn't open the package, his curiosity took over. Slowly he
opened the large package.
There was nothing he could do. There was
nothing he could say. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He
couldn't keep his eyes off of the contents that were shoved into the package; body
parts and the head of his neighbor Chuck from apartment A-2. After the initial
shock of seeing the bloody mess in the box, Greg noticed a note placed between two
fingers on Chuck’s left hand that had not been dismembered. It had Greg’s name
on it. He quickly reached for the folded piece of paper. His hands began to shiver
as he read the letter out loud.
"When did you realize the door was unlocked?"
Greg’s eyes widened. His heart sank. Instantly
he made the clear realization that his front door had been unlocked, knowing he
had locked it this morning before leaving the house. Standing there frozen he could hear footsteps
behind him. Whoever was coming from behind him was moving quickly and before he
could even move to run, a hand pounded against his shoulder with a brutal
force. All Greg could do was shut his
eyes and prey to not suffer the same fate as his neighbors.
The next morning Ruth Horowitz slowly
opened her front door to go down to the first floor to get the morning paper.
She turned her body to shut the door when she noticed a package. It
was placed up against Greg’s front door.
Being the nosey neighbor that she was, she bent down to glance at a note
placed on the package. To her surprise
the note was addressed to her.
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http://lockyourdoor.blogspot.com/2014/09/the-package.html