Julian sat on the soft sofa, willingly wasting his mind away watching shows streamed to television. Typical daily life for the young man passed as such. Finished with university a few years earlier, Julian remained imprisoned at a dead-end job. The monotony had led to the resignation of a future, with the decision his diploma was useless and wasted thousands of dollars.
After that existential crisis, his conscious mind had settled into the monotony, occasionally excited by dull shows and multitudes of reading material. At this point, Julian only gained any joy from materialistic entertainment, absorbing the fictional narratives alone.
If he could only gain the initiative and confidence to make true progress, he'd easily escape the tedious weekly cycle. Perhaps, with a little stimulation during these moments when his mind was most active, it'd be the chance he's been subconsciously yearning.
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One dreary Tuesday afternoon, Julian sat at his kitchen table; mindlessly tapping away at an idle mobile game, he barely blinked at the lights and sounds. A notification dropping down from the top of the screen finally made him think for the first time that day. "Confirmation email?" he pondered, clicking the icon to open his inbox.
Casually scanning the inbox full of advertisements, pointless work notices, and weekly bank statements, Julian couldn't exactly recall the last time he opened his email. "Guess I should delete stuff eventually." He mused, knowing full well he'd never live up to such a daunting task.
Regardless, his inbox had no mention of any confirmatory emails, indicating it must've been sent to spam. Uttering a slight grunt from the minute amount of extra effort required, he clicked on spam to see what this was all about.
Sure enough, the message was located, but opening it didn't explain anything. 'Congratulations, I have been shipped to your location. I'm a bit too big to send all at once, so I'll be arriving partially every couple of days. Have fun putting me back together.' The text read, oddly stating Julian's exact address and zip code.
"The hell?" He cursed, sitting up straight and observing more parts of the email. The sender had no email, and the subject line was blank; however, the email showed that he had actually received this notification two days prior. "Why am I just learning of this now?"
Hastily deleting the email and purging everything from his inbox, Julian shut off the phone and slid it to the far end of the table. Knowing that the mail comes around at 4 pm, his eyes darted to the clock. 3:45; whatever was going to occur, his life only had 15 more minutes of normalcy.
Keeping his eyes on the front door, he didn't leave his seat at all. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to an hour, an hour turned to half the day. To his joy, nay a knock on the door, or ring of the bell ever came. It would seem it was just a harmless prank; something to get his fears going, much to the sick pleasure of someone else.
Chuckling to himself, Julian retrieved his cell phone and walked to his living room to watch a few more episodes of shows before hitting the sack. Stretching his arms back to relieve his body of the accumulated pressure of sitting in one place for so long, Julian gave a hearty exhale as he came upon the couch.
His calm demeanor immediately ran like hell out of the building, for sitting on the coffee table was a medium-sized cardboard box. It was not there earlier, so Julian hung back and stared it down. "A bomb? Blackmail? Murder weapon?" He ran through possibilities in his mind, sweating like a storm in the meantime.
Concluding the only means of losing ignorance over the box's contents, Julian strode over to the unmarked package. Weak packing tape sealed the top lid, easily cut apart just by Julian picking at it. Bubble wrap protected what lay inside, with a folded note placed above it. Nabbing the note as if the inside was acid, Julan unfolded the stained paper.
"Sorry I can't meet you fully, but I sent the part of me that lets me stay grounded in reality. Enjoy them until more of me arrives. <3" Wincing his face at the nonsensical text, Julian crumples up the note and tosses it aside. It was time for him to face the unknown.
Slowly, he peels away the layers of bubble wrap, feeling no inclination to pop the plastic bubbles. Whatever was inside was heavy, weighing down the protective covering. It didn't take long for Julian to reach the final layer, shaking hands pulling it apart. And then he screamed.
Jolting away and shoving himself into the couch, Julian stared in shock at what looked like a pair of a woman's feet inside the box. "Is this part of a murder scene?!" He worried, hover above the couch to keep an eye on the feet. Maintaining that thought, he doubted it slightly due to the fact he found no blood in the box. These conflicting opinions forced him to go forward and find the answer.
Slowly, Julian came upon the female feet, confirming that the package was indeed free of any blood. Using his shaking hands, he picked up the feet and discovered they were actually rather warm. Cautiously turning them around, their skin was soft and full of life.
'What is going on?' He wondered, turning them over to see the ankle stumps. Where the feet would be connected to calves appeared to be metallic indentations. Easily equated to an unassembled mannequin, Julian figured that must be what is arriving in his mail.
"Doesn't answer who's sending it." He noted, placing the feet soles up and poking their soles with his fingers. In response, the mannequin feet wiggled their toes from the light stimulation.
Calmly, Julian grabbed the feet and placed them on the couch. Silently walking to his bathroom down the hall, he closed the door with a click of the lock. "Oh my god; what was that?!" He exclaimed, nearly collapsing on the sink. With luck, his hands grabbed the sides of the porcelain, keeping him upright.
Through his years of existence, never before had he encountered such a complete disregard of logic. What seems like parts of a mannequin at first glance, feel and act like normal human parts. Julian couldn't wrap his head around it.
Knowing he couldn't keep himself in the bathroom forever, he carefully tiptoed back down the hall. Avoiding any creaky floorboards, he peeked his head over the back of the couch for reconnaissance. The feet were still where he left them, moving idly since they were alone.
A part of him felt silly, acting like there was a dangerous predator in the house when it was just something innocuous. Of course, he's never had an experience like this before, so that part of him is hypocritical.
Moving in front of the couch once more, he performed a series of idiotic movements to elicit any reaction from the partial person. Nothing in their behavior changed, implying they didn't receive any visual stimulus. 'Not until that part of it arrives, I guess.' Julian concludes, intrigued by that implication.
Turning his back, he pulled out the remaining contents of the package to identify markings of significance. The interior was just as blank as the outside, with the only important items remaining being a few pairs of sandals; probably for the parts sitting on his couch.
Rather enraged that whoever concocted this scheme would think him so childish to play dress-up, he removed the shoes and ripped the box to pieces, exclaiming, "This is the weirdest Tuesday ever."
