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"Jack in the Box"

Is there a loved one you wish was still with you? Perhaps their presence was the one thing that could turn any bad day around. Maybe they were someone you weren't the best to, but you'd give anything to speak to them one more time and beg for forgiveness. No matter what the case, losing a loved one is one of the hardest things any one person can face. But what if you were so bent on speaking to them again that you unintentionally invite a demon into your life?

I struggled to fight back tears as my parents and I had to work a yard sale to sell my late little brother's belongings. My mom and I weren't for it, but my dad saw the way we would obsess over his things and beg for him to come back to us. He saw it was torturing us to see his room that would never again be slept in by him. Of course, we weren't getting rid of the really important stuff like his drawings or baby pictures. Instead, just the smaller things like his bed spread and some of his clothes.
Of course, thrown into the pile were his toys. My parents kept some of the ones they thought were his favorites. Emphasis on the word 'thought', as one of the toys I saw my little brother, Benji, play with was the jack in the box that a mother was bringing to me a the register, her little girl following close behind her.
I wiped my eye as she handed me the toy. I checked the price, $2. She gave me the money and took the toy. She tilted her head as if to comfort me. "I'm sorry for your loss. He'd be happy to know that his jack in the box is going to a good home." She grabbed her daughter's hand and left.
Why'd she have to say it like that? I know she was right, but it just hurt so bad to know that I'd never hear the music coming from his jack in the box from my room and rolling my eyes to it. Sure, I was never really the best sister in the world, but I cared for him too much to be ripped away the way he was.
As the day faded into night, we sold nearly all of his things we'd put up for sale. It still felt incredibly wrong for us to sell his belongings. But the woman earlier was right, it's all going to a better home. It's better than them rotting away in an untouched room full of memories far too painful to even bring back.

The next day at school, I was sitting in the back of the class with my hood up. I had my phone on in my hands, making sure it was hidden from the teacher's view. I was lucky she was reading the book aloud, rather than calling on random students to read. I had no idea what page we were even on.
I was scrolling through social media, trying to distract myself with funny pictures and interesting videos. I paused when I saw a post that said something was haunted. I scrolled back to it and skimmed through. Apparently it was on my feed because my mom had commented on it, but it was from that lady at the yard sale that had bought the jack in the box. She said it was haunted, that it would often play it's music when nobody was near it. My mom commented saying it never did anything like that when we had it, which was true.
I was a believer in the supernatural, so my mind instantly went into believing that it was haunted. Was that why Benji used to play with it so much? Was there a ghost attached to it? I thought back but didn't recall him mention anything about an imaginary friend or some invisible person telling him to do things, so that marks that idea off the list. Then something hit me, something that made me incredibly eager to get out of class and tell someone. What if the jack in the box was haunted by my brother?

I'd realized that telling my parents wouldn't exactly be the smartest move, as they would think I was crazy and probably ground me for making something like that up about my dead brother. I mean, it was a twisted way of thinking.
However, the following time we went to the grocery store, I was lucky enough to come across the mother that had bought the jack in the box. I had a dumb idea, but I figured I'd try it.
"Hey Mrs. Foreman," I greeted her. She stopped her cart and looked at me with a smile and a polite wave. "Do you happen to need a babysitter?"
She had to think about it for a second but ultimately said no.
"But you and your husband could have a date night away," I said. "I just miss my brother and your daughter was friends with him." I was unsure if that last part was true, but I needed something to guilt her into saying yes.
She looked down at me for a second before nodding. "I suppose I can talk my husband into going somewhere for the night. We don't have a lot of money right now though, so it's not going to be much."
"Oh, it's okay ma'am," I said gleefully. "You don't need to pay me, I'll happily do it for free."

It was a little before the sun went down that I arrived at their house to babysit. They were all dressed up and ready to take on the night. They laid down all the ground rules for me, like when her bedtime is and what to feed her for dinner, etc. I had no plan of deviating from their rules, I just wanted to play with the jack in the box a little, so that I might find a way to communicate with my little brother again.
I lead little Sara into the living room and turned on some cartoons. I scrolled through until I found a show she enjoyed watching. I then made my way to her room. I scoured through the mess of toys and clothes scattered about her floor until I found it, the little yellow jack in the box.
I was about to wind the handle when I heard a knock at the door. I sat up and hurried over to see who it was.
I opened the door to find a bulky man dressed in a black suit and a pair of sunglasses.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"I'm from the FBI," the man said, reaching for his badge and presenting it to me. "I'm here to collect the haunted toy from the premises."
"I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about," I said. There was no way I was going to let him take it.
"I'm sorry as well, ma'am, but the jack in the box must be destroyed. The demon attached to it can only do harm to the people closest to it."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded. "The box is possessed by my little brother."
"That's what the Goji wants you to think," the man said. "It latches into it's host and can mimic their actions in order to survive."
"Well, how do you know it's possessed by a Goji?" I asked.
"Because spirits only have the power to lift and move objects. They can't turn a crank and force an object to make noise."
It was unfortunate, but I believed him. I went and grabbed the jack in the box and handed it to him. But not without a deal. He had to bring me with him to show me what he was doing with it, incase he was lying. He agreed and we made our way out into a wide clearing a quarter mile from the house.
"What are we doing here?" I asked. He sat down the box and stepped back.
He opened up his bulky briefcase I'd just realized he was holding against the darkness of the night. The briefcase opened up to be a bulky laptop.
"We are going to try and lure it out with a host that looks even more tempting," he replied. "The thing I have in mind is a werewolf. But I have a remote in my pocket to trap it and bring it back to the office with me for further research."
I rolled my eyes. "A werewolf? Seriously? How are you going to get one?"
He smiled at me and sat his laptop on the ground. He pulled a remote out of his pocket and I stared in awe as the computer transformed into a werewolf.
I glanced over in time to see the jack in the box shaking violently. The werewolf crept closer to it and a stream of green goop floated from the box and into the wolf. The wolf began to shake violently as well before calming down.
There was this green mist radiating from the wolf as it turned to us. "You think you can trap me in this body?" it growled in a menacing, inhuman voice. 
The man pressed a button on his remote and the wolf began to howl in pain as it folded back into the shape of a briefcase. The man went to go pick it up carefully.

After we made our way back to the house I was supposed to be babysitting at, he and I sat on the couch, watching some television with little Sara. Or at least that's what we thought. We looked all over the couch and couldn't find her. He and I called for her. We heard a giggle in response. We followed it to her room. Sitting before her was the man's briefcase, open before her and radiating a green mist.

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