I Delivered The Roaches To Your Door
Three days later, The Hubmy business, my livelihoodwas swallowed by a black, scuttling army of insects, resulting in catastrophic damages.
I spent a fortune on hazmat cleanup, negotiating compensation with every victim and neighboring business.
But the parents, in a move of unbelievable malice, showed up with a fake appraisal, claiming the pests were rare, million-dollar medicinal insects, demanding I pay them for damages.
I snapped. We were entangled in a screaming, public war.
The next day, the parents united all the neighborhood victimsthe people whose homes I was trying to saveand besieged The Hub, live-streaming the ordeal to publicly crucify me.
Cornered, stripped of my reputation and my future, I jumped from the rooftop.
I was reborn the instant the package was scanned into my inventory. My first action was dialing the father's number.
Your package? Ive already delivered it.
1
On the other end of the line, Ashers father, Garrett, was silent for a few seconds.
Delivered it? What package?
His tone was irritable, a sharp annoyance at having his Saturday morning sleep-in interrupted by my work.
I let a soft, cold laugh escape, my voice perfectly placid.
A very special one. The recipient is your son, Asher.
I left it on your doorstep.
I hung up, deleted the call record, and promptly blocked the number.
In my last life, it was this boy, Asher, who had destroyed everything with one box of cockroach oothecae.
He had placed a specific note with his order: Live Cargo/Perishable. Do not contact. Hold for 72 hours upon arrival.
I was slammed that week. My new assistant, inexperienced and overworked, had done exactly as instructed, placing the unremarkable cardboard box in a back corner.
Seventy-two hours later, my package annex became a kingdom of roaches.
The sight of it was a living, breathing hellscape.
But now, I was back.
I was reborn ten minutes after the package containing the surprise was scanned.
I looked at the plain brown box, and a faint, phantom ache throbbed in the corner of my heart.
I pulled on gloves, picked up the box, and walked out of The Hub.
I placed it squarely on the welcome mat of Garrett and Melodys front door and snapped a photo.
Then, I nudged the package with my toejust a gentle half-meter slideuntil it rested by the door of the neighbor: Doris Finch.
Doris was the one who, in the last life, had been the most venomous during the online attacks, screaming the cruelest things alongside Ashers parents. She was also notoriously greedy, known for snatching a package if she thought she could get away with it.
I knew exactly what that cheap, nosy old woman would do.
Having completed my task, I returned to The Hub as if nothing had happened.
It was three in the afternoon, the height of the pickup rush.
A small figure squeezed through the crowd, his face twisted in a look of malice that was unnerving for a child.
It was Asher.
He walked up to the counter, stood on his tiptoes, and knocked.
Hey, is my package here? Names Asher.
I didnt look up, continuing to scan codes.
Its been delivered.
The smug smile on Ashers face froze.
What? I marked it for pick-up!
The system flagged it for priority delivery, so I sent it out.
I finally raised my eyes, meeting his with a chilling stare.
Is there a problem?
My intensity unnerved him, but he still bristled.
Where did you send it? I didnt see it when I got home!
Your front door. I took a picture.
I showed him the photo I had prepared.
In the image, the box sat innocently on his familys mat.
Ashers face went instantly white.
He knew what was in that box. He knew the consequences if that thing hatched on his property.
He let out a small, strangled sound, like a cat with its tail stepped on, and bolted for the door.
Watching his frantic retreat, the curve of my lips widened.
The show had just begun.
2
Less than half an hour later, my phone was ringing off the hook.
It was Garrett.
He was screaming into the receiver, his voice choked with rage.
Vivian! Where in the hell did you put that package? Its not on my doorstep!
Did you steal it?
I calmly pulled my phone from my ear and spoke in a monotone.
Mr. Price, you need to provide evidence for slander. I have photo documentation proving my duties were completed.
As for why the package is gone, you should inquire with your neighbors. Or perhaps call the police.
A picture? A picture is worthless! That package is essential. If its lost, I swear to God, you and I are going to have a serious problem!
He was still bellowing when I disconnected the call.
The silence was instant, and glorious.
Moments later, a black sedan slammed its brakes outside The Hub.
Garrett and his wife, Melody, stormed inside, their faces contorted with fury.
Garrett, a man whose face was already too wide, pointed a thick finger at my nose.
You little thief! Hand over my sons package now!
Melody chimed in with her usual passive-aggressive whine.
Tsk, tsk. Such a young girl. Why are your hands so sticky?
Its just a package. Is it really worth ruining your reputation over a few dollars?
The neighbors and regulars picking up their mail stopped, watching the unfolding scene with curiosity.
I ignored their histrionics, slowly wiping down the counter.
Ill say this one last time: I delivered the package to the designated location, and I have photographic proof.
If you believe I stole it, you are welcome to call the police immediately.
My absolute calm completely enraged them.
Garrett slammed his palm onto the counter, making the packages jump.
Call the police? You think I wont? Ill smash this whole sorry excuse for a business!
Im not just calling the cops, Im going to the corporate HQ! Ill get your franchise revoked! Youll never work in this town again!
Melody played her part, turning to the growing crowd to wail.
Everyone, please judge for yourselves! Is there any justice left?
We just lost a package, and instead of helping, she takes this attitude!
These young people today have no morals!
A few uninformed neighbors started to side with them.
Vivian, maybe you should just look again?
Yeah, sweetie, peace is more profitable than pride.
I looked at the couple, masters of manipulation and false victimhood, a familiar, cold dread in my chest.
This was the exact performance they had used last time to drive me to the rooftop.
This time, I wouldnt give them an inch.
I put down the cleaning rag, pulled out my phone, and aimed it at them.
You want to cause a scene? Fine. Ill open a live stream. We can let everyone on the internet watch how you, Mr. Price, are completely losing it over one worthless package.
Garrett and Melodys expressions twisted into shocked confusion.
They hadnt anticipated that move.
Just then, Asher slid out of the car, sprinting to his mothers side, on the verge of tears.
Mom! Stop fighting! We have to find it! We have to find it now!
Melody was too invested in her performance to listen, pushing him away.
Find what? Were not leaving until she hands it over!
What did you buy thats so important, Asher?
I bought some small toys
Asher looked at his mother, then at me, unable to meet either of our eyes.
His gaze was filled with a chilling blend of pure terror and despair.
He knew the time bomb had been ticking for too long.
3
I finally managed to usher Garrett and Melody out.
As they left, Garrett jabbed a finger in my direction, his eyes promising retribution.
You havent heard the last of this!
I watched them get in their car and peel away, my expression unmoved.
I knew this was only the beginning.
Sure enough, that evening, the HOA neighborhood chat exploded.
Melody, using an anonymous account, spun a vivid tale about the thieving, black-hearted owner of the package annex who had stolen her childs priceless heirloom.
She painted me as a greedy, rude criminal, and she posted my photo and The Hubs address.
[The nerve! Stealing a kid's toys. Some people are just trash.]
[She looks so sweet and honest. You never know who you can trust.]
*[@Vivian, care to explain yourself?]
I was tagged relentlessly. My phone vibrated nonstop.
Soon after, the regional manager from the national shipping carrier called, his voice tight with displeasure.
Vivian, what is going on? We have a massive complaint about theft, and they are threatening legal action. This is bad PR.
I dont care how you do it, but you need to make this go away. Now.
Calmly, I sent the manager the full sequence of events and the photo proof.
Sir, my work was flawless. The customer is making an unreasonable demand.
Delivering a package to the home address is a service we offer.
As for the complaint, I trust the company will draw its own fair conclusions.
The manager went quiet.
I knew he didnt care about the truth; he only cared about stopping the noise.
In my past life, this was how I was slowly, deliberately pushed to the edge.
But this time, I wouldnt be their scapegoat.
I didnt offer a single word of defense in the chat.
Trying to reason with an angry, mobilized mob is the stupidest thing in the world.
Instead, I quietly accessed the feed from the new, high-definition security camera Id installed near the counter.
The footage clearly captured Garrett and Melodys aggressive screaming, their threats, and my composed response as I requested them to leave.
I edited the video, isolating the worst moments, and saved it.
Meanwhile, Asher was in a panic.
He couldnt tell his parents the box contained roach eggs. He could only hint that his toy was very sensitive and had to be found immediately.
He searched the hallways like a frantic animal, ripping through every trash can.
His strange behavior, naturally, attracted the attention of the neighborsespecially Doris Finch, the woman who lived directly across the hall.
Doris was a known petty thief.
She watched Ashers increasingly deranged searching and grew suspicious.
She remembered seeing a plain box outside the Prices door that morning. It looked unremarkable, so she had scooped it up and taken it home.
Could it be a hidden treasure?
She hid the box deeper in her closet.
She had no idea she was hoarding not a treasure, but a biological weapon about to detonate the entire building.
Late that night, I lay awake, waiting.
I knew that soonmaybe tomorrow, maybe the day afterthe great roach feast that had once consumed my business would elegantly begin, somewhere else.
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