I Got a Mystery Box from “M” at 7:42am – What I Found Inside Broke Me

Two weeks ago, I got a strange delivery notification at 7:42am:

“Your Monthly Lifestyle Subscription Box has arrived.”

Thing is—I don’t remember subscribing to anything.

At least not sober.

Still half-asleep, I opened my door and found a small, matte-black box sitting neatly on my welcome mat. Clean design, gold logo, very premium subscription energy.

The kind influencers pretend they didn’t get for free.

I picked it up and whispered to myself, “God abeg, I hope it’s not one of those automatic renewals I forgot to cancel.”

When I got inside, I placed it on my table like it was a bomb.

I said out loud:

“Let me bath first before I open destiny.”

But the curiosity won.

I sliced the seal with my key.

Inside the subscription box was:

• A luxury scented candle (vanilla + teakwood)
• A handwritten note
• A tiny bottle of essential oil labeled “Calm Down, Bro.”
• A snack bar I’d never seen before
• And one item that confused me—a folded polaroid photo.

The note read:

“Hope you enjoy your personalized wellness subscription box.

This month’s theme: Healing.

– With love, M.”

I froze.

M?

I don’t know any M that sends me gifts…

Except my ex.

And that’s how the anxiety started.

I picked up the polaroid.

It was a picture of me—from LAST YEAR—at a restaurant in Yaba.

Looking tired, stressed, and pretending to laugh.

I whispered,

“Jesus Christ… which kind Netflix Original is this?”

My phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number:

“Open the candle.”

I stared at the phone like it owed me money.

I texted back:

“Who is this?”

Three dots…

Then they disappeared.

Three dots…

Then nothing.

I sighed, sat down, and opened the candle jar.

Folded inside, taped under the lid, was another note:

“Not everything you lost was good for your mental health.”

At this point I had goosebumps.

I stood up, paced around my living room, muttering like a Nollywood uncle:

“Is this PR? Am I being pranked? Is this a subscription box unboxing gone spiritual?”

Later that evening, around 9pm, I heard a knock.

Soft. Twice.

I wasn’t expecting anybody.

I opened the door slightly—and saw my neighbor, a smallish girl with big glasses, hugging a giant brown package.

She said,

“Hi… sorry… they delivered your review box to my door by mistake.”

I blinked.

“My WHAT?”

She pushed the package into my hands.

“This one has your full name on it.”

I thanked her and locked my door fast.

This box was bigger, heavier.

I opened it, and…

Bro.

Inside were six different subscription boxes from different companies:

• Men’s grooming subscription box
• Snack subscription box
• Self-care therapy box
• Tech gadget subscription box
• Fitness box
• Even a pet subscription box—and I don’t have a pet.

Each had my name on them.

And every single one had the same signature at the bottom:

“– M”

Now I was genuinely scared.

I said,

“No. Nope. Not me. Not today.”

I grabbed my phone and called my ex, Mariam.

She picked on the second ring.

“Mariam, abeg tell me you’re doing a subscription box business now.”

She laughed.

“No? Why?”

I explained the whole situation.

She went quiet.

Then said,

“Wait… you’re telling me someone has your OLD pictures? From last year? But who—”

My phone beeped.

Another message from the unknown number:

“Check the last box.”

I opened the last box—the smallest one.

Inside was a single USB flash drive.

My room felt cold.

Like the AC increased speed on its own.

The unknown number texted again:

“Watch it.”

I plugged the USB into my laptop.

A video opened automatically.

It was me.

Not current me.

A younger me, sitting in my room, recording a video diary.

I didn’t even remember filming this.

I looked burnt out. Hair rough.

Eyes puffy like I’d been crying.

In the video, I said:

“If I ever lose myself again,

If I ever forget to rest,

If stress swallows me,

I want future me to receive a reminder…

So I subscribed to six services.

And pre-paid a one-year plan.

To remind myself to breathe.”

I stared at the screen, mouth open.

Young me continued:

“This is your self-care subscription.

A gift from me… to me.

Don’t be scared.

Just breathe.”

Bro.

I sat back.

I wasn’t scared anymore.

Just quiet.

I whispered:

“I set all this up… for myself?”

I checked the sender’s number carefully…

It was an old number I used years ago—before I misplaced that SIM.

So the mysterious “M”?

It was Me.

Past Me.

I spent the next hour slowly opening each subscription box again—this time with calm, not fear.

Each one had items meant to help:

• Stress-relief gadgets
• Wellness journals
• Healthy snacks
• Skincare items
• Productivity tools
• Affirmations
• A fitness band
• Even monthly challenges I wrote for myself

I laughed, shook my head, and said:

“Wow. I really loved myself more than I realized.”

Later that night, I lit the candle.

Vanilla + Teakwood.

I sat on the floor, smelling peace I forgot I deserved.

My phone buzzed once more—same number:

“Proud of you.”

I replied:

“Same to you… past me.”

And for the first time in months…

I felt fine.

Like really, genuinely okay.