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The Package

"Hey, a package had been sent for you. I'm just gonna leave it here, okay?" I heard Mom speaking at the other side of the door.

"What is it?" I asked in response.

"I don't know. I—well just take a look at it yourself."

I stood up from my bed that became my constant companion for this past three weeks. It had been the witness along with my pillows for every nights that I cried myself to sleep. And just being seperated from it is making me to jump back at it again and return to another depressing sleep.

I steeled my nerves and walked to the door. The first thing that I saw when I opened the door is my mom holding a little box wrapped in packaging tapes looking very much worried.

"Oh, so you finally decided to get out of your little sanctuary huh?" she asked while looking at me very quizically.

Well I guess that would be the initial reaction since I just spent the past three whole weeks locked up inside my room.

I nodded. "So who sent it?"

"There is no name indicated here to tell us who the sender is." she handed me the package.

"That's weird." I said as I rattled the box to have a clue what is inside it but the parcel yielded no sound.

"So do you want to have some dinner?" Mom asked out of the blue.

"Yeah, I'm kind of hungry of anyway." I said in response.

I tossed the box at my bed. I'm gonna inspect it later on.

~•~•~•~•~

"So, do you feel much better now?" Mom asked as we sat together, eating her famous adobo recipe at the kitchen.

I bit my lip. Almost a month had passed but it still felt like it just happened yesterday. I don't even know how I was still capable of eating like this, like everything is normal.

I forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah"

"Anyway, the university sent a letter. They're inviting you to come at their annual summer concert this coming May. That's exactly a month from now." Mom may have sensed the uneasiness in my voice and felt the nedd to change the topic.

"I don't know, Mom. I may have something to do at that day." I lied. I would just probably spend the whole summer vacation inside my room, nesting my grief.

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

She tried to have some small talk but my response were only nods in agreement so she just stopped herself. After that, our dinner goes in silence.

I'm almost done eating when the telephone rings.

"I'll answer that." Mom said and stood up to answer the phone at the sala.

After a few minutes, she came back much more stressed than she was before.

"Who was it?" I asked immediately.

"It's Zac. He called to asked if you're doing fine." her eyes didn't meet mine.

Of course Zac would call. He would probably worrying about what is happening to me right now. I'm tempted to call him back and ask if he's doing fine but I'm not yet ready to face him, them. To be reminded again to all the painful memories. Not yet.

"What did you say to him?" I asked instead.

"Oh, I said you're still in your room, sulking. He said he's coming over this weekend to see if you personally. Look Alex, your friend cares about you so much. I cared about you. Don't push away the people who is worrying about you." she caressed my face then held it up so we're looking eye to eye.

"I know, Mom. I–I just need more time, I guess."

She held up her hand surrender. "Just know that I'm here whenever you need a shoulder to cry on."

"Yeah, thanks for the advice. I'm just going back to my room, okay?" I averted my gaze and stood up abruptly.

I was about to head to the stairs when Mom called out again. "Oh, I remembered just now. There is a card along with that letter. I think I have it here in...ahhh." she ruffled the bag beside her.

"Here it is." she held up a green card triumphantly. "Well it says 'To the sun who lights up this lonely moon'"

I stopped in my steps. It couldn't be. There's only one person who calls me that. It couldn't be her.

I quickly snatched the card and I can't believe what I saw. It was her handwriting. Sam.

I hurriedly climbed the stairs and entered my room. And there, the package still sits at the corner of my bed, undisturbed. The package that may contain the answers to all the questions I had.

I unwrapped the packaging. And there it is. Inside the little box was a black notebook covered in layers of mini styro balls and bubble wraps. Sam Castro's notebook. The same notebook she had when I met her 10 months ago.