Return To Sender

Return To Sender

I should never have opened you.

It all began one cold December morning. I had recently ordered a number of Christmas gifts for my family; a cheerful but slightly cheesy mug for my father, a set of elaborate candles for mother, and so on. However, all I received that day was a small red slip indicating that I had missed a parcel. My thoughts being elsewhere, I thought nothing of the strange description of the object that had been given.

“I left her in the rubbish skip, there was nowhere else.”

The skip struck me as a strange place to leave a missed package, but whatever. The whole place was covered in snow from the storm from a few days ago, the worst in recent memory. None of the other residents were in and it was ridiculously cold out, so putting it somewhere no thief would ever look made sense if the deliveryman just wanted to get out of there.

As I pushed the elevator button I saw Jarvis, the apartment Janitor taking a smoke break. He and I had been friends since he help save my parrot Grump from a small housefire back when I had just moved in. I waved, but he didn’t see me.

I had never liked the alley beside the apartment block; it smelled of stale fast food and urine, but today I smelt something else too, a ghastly stench I couldn't identify. I only wish the skip wasn't there.

I retrieved the parcel; it was small and light; probably the candles.As I walked up the stairs (I always walk the stairs when going back to my apartment, I need all the exercise I can get) I considered how strange the description of the object was. How did the deliveryman know it was a “Her?”

Even weirder, I could hear a laughter coming from the box. It didn't seem happy, but the sort of laughter you hear from the sad and the desperate.

Well, it's definitely not the candles then.

“Hey Dan, you got a parcel?”

Jarvis’ wrinkled old face was the kind of broad, sincere gesture of kindness you rarely see anymore.

“Yeah, I hope it’s the mug I’ve ordered, Amazon said it could take weeks otherwise.”

“You mind if I get a feel for it? You know how I am with these things.”

It sounds strange, but Jarvis is a superstitious soul, and I swear he can tell all sorts of things about an object just by holding it. He once guessed the number of jelly beans in a tin at a fairground to the exact number, and told me to get rid of radiator days before it electrocuted it’s next unlucky owner.

The second I handed him the parcel the smile dropped off his face, and I saw a fear in his eyes like no other. He managed only a few words before collapsing in a heap.

“Send it back.”

I did everything I could, but by the time the paramedics arrived he was already long gone.The police asked me a few questions, but they soon realized I was as clueless as they were. They later declared on television that they "were not treating the death as suspicious".

I didn't tell them about the parcel.

Jarvis... I can't believe it. He was my friend, and now I was left with this mysterious parcel and no idea what to do.

My head still reeling from the shock of Jarvis' sudden death, I took the parcel to my room and, talking a large knife from my dressing room cupboard, opened the box.

A… pink pony plush toy?