I do not own lifeline and I do not profit from Lifeline. No copyright.


It was a Tuesday. I had just got home from class that afternoon to see a box upon the kitchen table. I remember my sister making a comment of how it arrived, "They just tossed it to the door." I was genuinely perplexed. I didn't remember ordering anything and the only labeling there was, had my name on it. Not even an address of the house nor a returned one.

The box itself wasn't even that big, maybe about the size of a standard text book. Its cardboard casing was crushed and broken with pieces of bubble wrap sticking out. The flaps on the sides of the box were closed with duct tape and seemed to be the only thing holding it together.

Deciding that there was no harm to it, I picked it up and was surprised how light it was. It could have just been filled with bubble wrap, or likely prank from my friends that as soon as I open it it's going to be like the snakes-in-a-can prank. That seemed more logical in my mind and I could see my friends doing something as stupid as this. But wouldn't they try to watch my reactions to get the most of it? Thinking that there were nearby, paranoia set in.

I headed to my room a hallway down from my kitchen. I dropped my backpack on the floor near my door, set the box on my bed and slid my curtain closed. I immediately felt silly. Why would they be stalking me like a creeper in the first place? Plus I would have seen them on my walk home if they were. My mind raced. Nothing made any sense.

My brows furrowed in confusion. Where in the world could this have come from? Should I even open it? Thoughts and questions were flying everywhere in my mind, too fast to be coherent if spoken. I didn't want to mess with it at this point. There was too much mystery and paranoia surrounding this small package. I wanted to be careful, I had seen and read too many things detailing the result of a mysterious package arriving at your door. From magical teleportation to explosions as soon as you open it.

My mind registered. Explosion.

My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't breathe properly. I slowly glanced at the innocent looking box on the corner of my bed. What if there really was a bomb of some kind in there? Killing myself and my family and maybe the homes next door as well depending on its strength. But what purpose would that serve? I did not fully understand the concept of death. There was no reason for me to because I was sheltered from it.

I was getting too paranoid. What reasons…? I couldn't finish that thought. There were reasons, perfectly logical reasons as to why someone would randomly send someone a box of explosions. Crazy Fanatics for one. Terrorists for another. And maniac cultists for last. But the question would be why? Why would I receive something like that? I don't think I did anything so upsetting and offensive enough to have someone to kill me. I didn't preach my religion. I didn't use racial slurs of any kind. Most of the time I offended myself to tell a joke.

Lack of logical evidence eased my mind a little, but I was still cautious. Didn't want to end up on the front line news. I, instead, decided to leave it be and keep an eye on it before I decide to do anything to it.

With that decided, I let out a breath that may as well have been a sigh and glanced around my room. It wasn't exactly roomy in normal standards and my bed took up most of the actual space of the room. Considering it was a Queen Size bed, I wasn't surprised. It didn't stop me from enjoying the big bed because it feels great to be able to just spread yourself out and lay down without having to share space. At the head of my bed against the far wall was a shelf like headboard that were filled with books and slowly spreading to the flat surface on top.

Behind me was my itty-bitty closet. To the right in the corner of the room there were about three shelves of books. I say three because the bottom one is not actually a shelf and more of a table with books lined on it. I had recently been able to afford books and I was over the moon for them, especially of how cheap I had gotten them. I even dedicated a shelf for all the really old books that I've found. (One is even from the late 1800s).

Next to the bookshelves was the window with the closed curtains, the wind lightly blowing it with the sunlight still shining through its thin fabric. To the left corner of the room was my dresser, knick-knacks piled on top. A few feet ahead was the door to my room that leads out into a hallway. It wasn't much in a way of a room, but it worked for my personality.

I had come to the decision to just ignore the mystery box, as I had come to call it. I didn't know exactly what I should do next and decided that school work was important enough to start doing it. But first, I thought, I could go with something to eat.


I had procrastinated, I have to admit. It wasn't until a few hours later that I returned to my room that I started on my 'important homework'. It didn't bother me that much and I was able to BS my way through the work if I needed to.

It wasn't until a while after the sun had come down and half an essay done that I paused a YouTube video to hear a faint pulsating sound nearby.

It started off low in pitch and slowly built up only to be cut off and start again. I sat on my bed for a moment trying to think what could be emitting that sound when I realized it was coming from the mystery box. I mentally panicked. Why is it making noises now?

"Incoming communication request."

I jumped off my bed and practically flew across the room. What the hell was that!? First it pulsates, now it speaks? I brought my breathing under control and placed my hand upon my still racing heart. I stood in my safety corner starring at the box as if it was going to attack me. A minute passed and just when I thought I had just imagined it, it spoke again.

"Incoming communication request."

There wasn't any descriptive sounds to say it was male or female, but it was clearly an automatic robot voice. But why would it be saying that? I cautiously moved back around my bed and insight of the package.

"Incoming communication request."

I saw no harm in trying. At least it checks off another reason on it could be a bomb. In all reason it still might as well be but I had to see why it was making this specific sequence of sounds and sentence.

Grabbing a pair of scissors out of my drawer, I carefully cut away the thick duct tape surrounding the box. As soon as I got a good opening in the cardboard I tug away the quilt of bubble wrap out of the box and toss the useless covering aside. I was relieved that nothing tremendous happened and that I was still in one piece.

"Incoming communication request."

It was definitely come from underneath all this bubble wrap. I cut away as much of the blasted bubble wrap as I could. They really wrapped this up all nice and snug, I thought to myself. Now down to the last leg of Bubble wrap did I see the glow of the device. It's screen shinning a deep blue. I tossed the now useless bubble wrap to the side with the cardboard box, focused on the piece of machinery in my hands.

It was like a big blocky phone, was my initial thought. But what did I expect when I didn't really know what I was holding. There weren't any buttons that I could see immediately and its lit screen seemed to take up the entire front side of the device. On the screen however what is really captured my attention.

{Incoming communication request. [Accept][Decline]}

I didn't know what to do. Should I accept the call? It was sent to me specifically. But this was all too shaded and seemed something very secret government/ program style. I stood there in front of my bed considering my options.

"Incoming communication request."

It sounded again. My eyes flickered back down to the screen. I sighed and shrugged. I thought why not? No regrets, and I tapped the Accept button. I just hope it doesn't come down to having "YOLO" placed on my tombstone as my final act.

"Connecting…" It spoke again, text rolling across the screen.

"Status: Good

Connection: Good

Speakers: Good

Microphone: Good

Speech to text protocol initiated.

Vocal aperture protocol initiated.

Link Activated."

White Static burst from the speaker systems and I nearly dropped it. Where's the volume control on this thing?

"…ello? …nybody there?" A distorted voice emitted from the speakers. This thing was going to make me die from a heart attack, I swear.

"… think… had… accident. Ple… help."

There was a constant static noise coming through the speakers that made it hard to make out anything they were trying to say. From what I could gather, this person was calling for help. What was I supposed to do? This isn't exactly what you would call a normal situation.

"… an… you… me?" I couldn't leave this alone, my heart wrenching at the idea of ignore this clearly distressed individual. I rolled the device around my hand. In my ignorance, I found three different buttons along the side and two different twist knob above them.

"I repeat: …an you …ead me?"

I noticed the last button seemed to be longer than the other two with two lines protruding from the length of it to help with griping. Similar to a Walkie-Talkie only weirder and prototype looking. With no other option, I held the button down and said the first thing that came to mind, "Yes, but there's a ton of static."

I let go and waiting for a response to come out of the white noise. Then finally a voice came through,

"Let m… try …thing." They heard me! I didn't know why this made me happy but I relished in the relief it gave me.

"…ive me …ew seconds…"

The voice said again and then there was more heavy static. It felt like hours, straining to hear anything come out of the, now called Walkie, device when it suddenly cleared and a much clearly human voice emitted from the speakers.

"Any better?"

"Yes," I replied, "It's much better now."

"I was able to get rid of the static by updating the software on my comm. Damn thing's been beeping since I woke up." Theirs too? I thought. "For some reason, you're the only person I can reach- all the other frequencies are either dead or scrambled. I even had trouble getting a stable connection with you."

It was only then did I notice the text on the screen filtering through matched exactly to what this person was telling me. What the hell now? This was like a cross between a phone and a Walkie system. What was this thing? Then I heard the voice speak again, did I fully pay attention.

"I guess this weather isn't helping. It's freezing cold, and the wind is blowing right through me…Probably because I'm not wearing any kind of coat…"

Cold? It's the beginning of summer?