I made this film because I was afraid.  Truly afraid of what I didn’t know, what I wouldn’t allow myself to know...what’s in the box? 

 

I work the graveyard shift.  Besides the cleaning crew that comes and goes, it’s just me.  When I’m done for the night I follow a well worn routine:  shut off the computer,  follow the back hallway out of the office and take the elevator to the parking lot.  One night, I followed  the hallway and found the elevator open and waiting for me.  In the center of it was a cardboard box closed but not sealed.  There was no one in the elevator or in the building for that matter.   I was  all alone.  

 

The scenario felt like something out of a horror movie, beckoning me to unravel the mystery and learn...what’s in the box?  However, as a Black man keenly aware of how we don’t often fare well in horror flicks, I said to myself “Hell no!” and did the only sensible thing.  I took the stairs.

 

When I arrived safe at home, the image and the thought still plagued me.  “What was in that box?”  This film is my imagination running wild in an attempt to answer that question.

 

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