The Mailman

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

I love talking to the mailman.

I was stuck inside on my computer. With the outbreak of a pandemic, I could almost never go outside anymore. My mother was worried and in return, my opportunities to leave the house had become scarce. That’s why I cherished the one time of day I could wander beyond the constraints of my home, even if only for a minute.

Every Wednesday, the mailman would pass by my house around three o’clock. My mother would always let me retrieve the mail, and give him a proper sendoff. It was like a tradition of sorts, and I had always been a creature of habit. So as three o’clock neared, I decided to prepare myself accordingly. Three passed and I made my way outside.

I shut the door closed behind me in preparation for the mailman to make his way up to our porch and hand me this week's mail. He didn’t disappoint, handing me the mail, and my sports magazines with indifference. So in a similar fashion, I made my way back inside, setting all the mail aside and getting ready to read my magazines. But before I could even start, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It was a piece of mail unlike any other I’d ever seen. It looked a little larger than all the other mail and had different packaging. It wasn’t visibly different from afar, but it definitely stood out from the rest. 

I couldn't take my eyes off of the mail, but I knew if I continued to glare at it in the open, it would only be a matter of time before my mother would take the mail. So I made sure that wouldn't happen, and slid the piece of mail under my arm. After that, I assured my mother that the mail had been brought in, before I would make my way upstairs. It felt good being somewhere I could call home after the incident that occurred at my uncle’s house. This was my last chance at having a home. The floors creaked as I made my way up the wooden stairs, and my bedroom door squealed as I entered my room. This mail was the most interesting thing that happened to me since I moved into my mother’s house.

I peeled off the tape on the large piece of mail folded at it’s right edge. But before I opened it, I locked my door and grabbed a flashlight from under my bed. Nothing big, just a small flashlight to help me take in the details riddled all over this mail, as if it were in a fight with the hand of the mailman. With the tape peeled off, I opened the top flap of the mail revealing a stack of photos. As I pulled the photos out, I was disgusted and appalled by the content of these photos. I knew that these photos had to be some misunderstanding. The photos in the mail contained pictures of a girl, tied up, and undressed. She seemed to be distressed, as she was crying and screaming in these photos. These photos came with a note attached that said “Kayla Green, age…” 

The last part of the note was ripped off. I knew that this was serious and that I should get adults involved. But I grabbed my computer from my bed and searched “Kayla Green.” Above all other search results, there was an article that read “Kayla Green, 16, found dead.” That was the last straw, I had already been uneasy after seeing these photos but the article meant I had to tell somebody. I grabbed the photos and stuffed them back into the envelope, before running downstairs. That’s when my unease became critical. It seemed my mother had taken her medicine again, and would be asleep for a while. I knew that meant that I would be alone for a while. I couldn't deal with this alone, I already had too many problems to deal with. So I grabbed the envelope and put it back on the couch. If I didn’t think about it, it would be like it didn’t exist. 

 

That’s why I distracted myself for the rest of the day. I was just waiting until I could fall asleep and forget about all the photos. And I did so very successfully, because before I knew it, it had hit eight pm. I didn't normally go to sleep early but being so stressed, it only made sense to go to sleep early. I slid into pajama like clothes and turned off my room light. I then lit my candle before going to bed. I liked having a candle, it provided light and warmth, I needed that.

The night was harsh and unforgiving. It had been extra cold that night and I could hear my mother waking up late at night to shift from the couch to her bedroom. I couldn’t fall asleep. The room felt lifeless, including me. But something changed as the time passed. My candle had no longer smelt of burning wax but of hot coal dust. I knew what was coming before it arrived, but I couldn't do anything to change it. The outcome stayed the same. All I could do is watch as it peaked it’s head through the closet on the other side of the room. It’s pale face sticking out like a sore thumb, amongst the darkness. Red smeared on the edges of it’s smile, like a child using makeup. Except I knew what it had on its face, blood. The smell of coal dust strengthened as it revealed the void that fills its mouth, and the teeth that surrounded it. “Mail Man.” It no longer peeked its head out the closet, this time the closet held a different monster. It was a girl peeking her head out the closet. She said nothing, she only screamed. An ear piercing screech voided the room of it’s silence, and myself of my sanity. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was too painful. I flung the blankets that held me down, and I threw open my door. I ran downstairs amidst the darkness that plagued my mother’s home, and I grabbed the envelope. The pictures were gone. The girl began screaming louder, but this time she was crying too. I joined her, because that’s when I found out why she was crying. The mailman was standing outside. 



 


Submitted: October 23, 2020

© Copyright 2020 PastaWRLD. All rights reserved.

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