Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the welcome mat, a stark brown rectangle against the faded blue of her doormat. She hesitated, hand hovering over the handle, the late afternoon sun casting long, skeletal shadows across the porch. The name wasn't hers. "Amelia Blackwood." She hadn't seen a Blackwood since she'd moved in, months ago. A prickling sensation crawled up her spine, a feeling she couldn't quite place. She shoved the box inside, the sound of the door latch echoing in the sudden quiet of the apartment.

Back inside, she set the box on the kitchen counter, grabbing a knife to cut through the tape. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her ribs. Maybe it was just a mistake. Maybe. She carefully sliced the tape, peeling back the flaps, her breath hitching slightly. A layer of packing peanuts covered something wrapped in black plastic.

She found herself backing away, a tremor running through her. The air in the kitchen felt heavy, stagnant. She needed to know what was inside. Swallowing hard, she reached for the plastic.