The Heart Shaped Box

 Title: The Heart-Shaped Box

Every Valentine’s Day, my school throws a huge fundraiser. They sell roses, chocolates, and little heart-shaped boxes for students to give to their crushes. Most of it’s cheesy and harmless, but last year, something happened that no one will forget.

It started with Mia. She was the quiet girl in my class, always sitting in the back row, drawing in her notebook. She didn’t talk much, but there was something about her that made people uncomfortable. Some said it was her eyes—how they never quite met yours. Others said it was because she never laughed, not even at the dumb jokes our teacher told.

When the Valentine’s fundraiser started, people joked about Mia buying herself a gift. “Who’d send her anything?” they’d laugh.

But on Valentine’s morning, a small, heart-shaped box appeared on Mia’s desk. It was red, with golden trim, and looked old—like something you’d find in an antique store.

Mia just stared at it for a moment. Then she smiled. Not a happy smile, but a weird, almost knowing one.

“Who’s it from?” someone asked.

Mia didn’t answer. She just picked up the box, opened it, and looked inside. For a second, her face went pale, but then the smile came back.

By lunch, everyone was talking about the box. Some swore they saw it move, like something inside was alive. Others said Mia had been whispering to it during class.

By the end of the day, the rumors got darker.

“She’s talking to someone that isn’t there,” one girl said.

“I heard her say it was her real Valentine,” another whispered.

The next morning, Mia wasn’t at school. Her seat was empty, but the heart-shaped box was still there, sitting on her desk. Our teacher, Mr. Grayson, picked it up to take it to the office, but as soon as he touched it, he froze. His eyes went wide, and he dropped the box like it burned him.

When it hit the floor, the lid popped open, and a single red heart-shaped candy rolled out.

It wasn’t a normal candy. It looked wet, like it had just been pulled from something… alive.

The box was taken away, but by the time lunch rolled around, Mr. Grayson was gone. They said he left early, but no one saw him leave.

The next day, another box appeared on Mia’s desk. This time, no one dared touch it.

By the end of the week, the boxes started showing up in other places. One on the principal’s desk. One in the janitor’s closet. One in the lost-and-found. And every time, someone disappeared.

We never saw Mia again. No one talks about what happened, and the Valentine’s fundraiser was canceled this year.

But this morning, when I opened my locker, there it was. A small, heart-shaped box.

The lid is shaking slightly, like something inside is trying to get out.

I don’t know who sent it, but I think I know what it means.

Happy Valentine’s Day.