Sweet Dreams

Shadow Box

Leah Robinson sat at the oak wood desk in her tiny bedroom, headphones over her head and music flowing through her ears. She checked the time on her phone: 6:00 p.m. She turned the music down and listened for the sound of the doorbell, which she heard every day at 6:00 p.m. "And in three, two..."

The doorbell rang through the house, traveling all the way to Leah's room.

She threw her headphones on the desk and ran downstairs, almost tripping on the last step. When Leah opened the door, there laid a shadow box on the "welcome" doormat. The shadow box had a black frame, and behind the glass was a red rose. "Pretty," she admired, taking the shadow box inside the house with her.

Leah went downstairs to the basement and placed the shadow box on top of a stack of many others, which collected dust from being abandoned for so long. She didn't know why she was receiving these shadow boxes every day on her doorstep. There were a lot of old people in her neighborhood, so maybe it was them. Did her mom subscribe to something to get shadow boxes daily?

        DING DONG.
DING DONG.
DING DONG.
DING DONG.

The ringing of the doorbell echoed inside Leah's head. She's been hearing the doorbell ring every day since October 31...now it's January 6. At first, she thought it was a little Halloween prank the first time she received a shadow box. But now she turned away from the idea. One time Leah stood by the door and waited for the doorbell to ring. When it did, she yanked the door open and saw nothing, only a shadow box on her doormat. She even remembered looking up and down the street for the mysterious person who kept leaving things at her door. There was nobody. It was just a quiet street.

Leah shrugged to herself and went back upstairs.

"Leah!" her mother called from the kitchen. "Dinner!"

Leah went to the kitchen and sat at the end of the table. Her mother brought over silverware and a crockpot full of shredded chicken. Hot flour tortillas steamed on a plate in front of her. Once everything was at the table, they started digging in.

"Another shadow box today?" her mom asked.

"Yeah," Leah said as she stuffed a tortilla with chicken and black beans. They sat in silence while they ate. All she heard was her mom's chewing and water droplets landing on a plate in the sink. "Who's giving us these shadow boxes? Did you subscribe to something?"

Her mom looked up from her plate. "No. I think an old person around the neighborhood is sending us the shadow boxes. Maybe Mrs. Herrman?"

Mrs. Herrman was one of their neighbors. She had short, puffy hair as white as snow, and always wore floral dresses with pink lipstick. She was in her late seventies. They thought maybe Mrs. Herman was giving them the shadow boxes because she likes doing arts and crafts when she's bored.

"I'll go next door and tell her to stop sending them because there's a huge stack of them downstairs," Leah said as she put her plate in the sink after finishing her dinner.

"Yes, but politely," her mom assured.

After cleaning up, Leah went over to Mrs. Herrman's house. Pansies in her front yard drifted in the chilly wind. A wind chime on a small oak tree created music, but the music gave Leah an eerie feeling.

She knocked on the red door. Leah waited for a moment before knocking again. A red Turkish Angora cat sat as still as a statue by one of the windows, staring at the visitor.

The door finally opened, revealing a very wrinkled old lady. "Oh! You're the little girl next door!"

Leah wasn't little anymore. Yeah, she was a kid, but not a little kid. She was fifteen years old. She hated when people called her a little kid.

"Hi, Mrs. Herrman. Are you by any chance placing shadow boxes on the doorstep of my house?"

Mrs. Herrman stared at her blankly. "Shadow boxes? What are those?" she wondered.

"They're these boxes that you put something in and then cover them with glass...you know what? Never mind, sorry to bother you," Leah said. She knew she wasn't the one who was sending them, so she just ended the conversation and walked back to her house.

"Was she the one who was sending them?" her mom asked.

"No," Leah answered, plopping herself on the couch. "I just don't get it. Who the heck is giving these shadow boxes to us?" She picked up an Xbox controller and started playing Halo.

Just as her mom went to the kitchen, Leah heard the back door creak open and her mom's shrill scream.

"Mom!" Leah screamed, throwing the controller down and running into the kitchen.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she witnessed a bloody mess. There was blood all over the tile floor. A trail of crimson led out the back door.

Leah's arms flew to her head. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! What am I going to do?!"

While she was still taking in what had happened, the doorbell rang.

Her heart pounded in her ears. Leah ran down the hallway to the door, hoping it was the neighbors, police, anyone.

When she opened the door, there was a human-sized shadow box on her porch. Instead of a little butterfly or flower, there was a bloody woman inside...her mom.

Leah choked back tears while stepping back into the house and tripping on the door sill. Something caught her and made her stand straight again. Cold hands were placed on her shoulders.

The person bent down to Leah's ear and whispered, "It's okay, Leah. She deserved it. I won't hold secrets from you as she did."

Leah spun her head around to get a good look at the man who murdered her mother. She didn't know who he was for a moment because of not seen that face in a long time, but then she finally remembered. "Dad..."

The End