So, yesterday a box turned up at my daycare centre. The girls, Adeline, Massey, and Joanne, entered my office and placed it on my desk.

"Oooh, someone's got an admirer!" They chirped like clucking hens.

"Don't be silly," I scoffed as I looked at the sending details. Sure enough it had my name but no sender's information.

"I wonder what it can be," Joanne, our own mother hen, smirked as she reapplied her heavy red lipstick.

"I bet it's flowers," Massey stated, matter of factly, in a youthful innocence.

"Or chocolates," counted Adeline.

"Girls. Stop it," I said, blushing slightly. To be honest, the thought of someone taking an interest in little old me was flattering. Ever since my disvorce, I've been quite lonely.

"It's empty?" I pulled the flaps open and twisted the box around. The girls peered inside. "Oh very funny," I said, as my cheeks flushed with hurt.

The girls swore it wasn't them, and I believed them. Whoever it was could eat a big bag of dicks for doing it. With that said, I took the box out to the daycare where the children (mostly under 2's) were rambunctiously playing with soft toys. I set it down on the floor as little Tommy (a prick of a kid) was trying to eat Sammi's face.

Kids and boxes, am I right?

The moment that thing hit the floor those kids were on it. Henry, a sweet adorable kid stumbled over to it and picked it up. Waded to the corner of the room and started to investigate how he could get in the thing.

It was endearing to watch. Cardboard isn't allowed in the daycare. Kids and chewing things don't mix, you know? But as we were there, I thought I'd let Henry have a little play before taking it away. Then to our amusement, Henry toppled forward and fell into the box.

Adeline was the first to respond. Quickly racing over to right the box and poor Henry. But when she turned it up, and glanced around with a panicked look on her face, our faces turned from amusement to worried pouts.

"Where is he?" Where's Henry?" Adeline hissed.

That set us off. How could a kid in the corner of a room disappear so fast? The box lay forgotten as we searched for him. Then we heard a sharp little scream as Sammi and the box toppled again.

My heart was in my throat as we came to the empty box and no Sammi.

When the box righted itself and a sudden feeling crept into my legs, I knew horror to the first degree. I couldn't move. None of us could, except the children. Each of them wanted to play with the box, and I couldn't stop them.