The Travel Buddy

Chapter 16 - Coming Out

Bea @ 18 years old...

Two years after...

The box was quite heavy. I was traversing the hallway that leads to the storage room. The room in the house that holds the very least of my attention. The room that I get to visit once in a blue moon when there is a need to do so... like today. It contains household items that weren't needed for the time being. Items that were safely tucked in boxes and neatly piled up on shelves. Every shelves were neatly organized and labeled with whom the items belong to or where those items were to be used in the future.

In the past two years, I have amassed a number of items that are to be boxed. And those that have just arrived in that span of time remained unopened and stashed in this God-forsaken room. If I had it my way, I would have thrown them all to the garbage. But Mom's tenacity on keeping things with sentimental value has prevailed. I have once tried throwing something away only to find it pompously displayed in the living room the following day. I guess the household help were given additional tasks of recovering things that I had discarded. Things that have once been held dear to my heart.

I should have asked the helper to stash this box for me into this room. But everybody is kinda busy with the preparations for my eighteenth birthday two days from today. Relatives from all over are coming and Mom had offered to some the convenience of our home.

That's another issue. I never wanted a big celebration. But who would dare defy my parents' compulsion to have their unica hija presented to the world that would mark her formal entrance into the society. Ugh! And since I refused to take part in the preparations, which earned another mother-daughter brawl, Mom had paid dearly the event organizers for digging up information on what I would have wanted for my birthday celebration and who are supposed to be part of the programme. 

I struggled while opening the door as the box blocked my view of the keyhole. When I had opened it, I went straight to rows of shelves that were assigned to my belongings and the somehow useful things I wanna get rid of. I had said somehow useful because I haven't opened nor do I intend to open any of those boxes that were sent to me for the past two years.

My mistake. It was a big mistake that I was in the storage room right now. I stopped on my track and glared at the shelves. There were no more boxes on them. Instead, picture frames lined up on the top shelf, an array of customized albums indicating the places I've been to on the second, some things that are new to my eyesight on the third, and lifelong gifts that were given by one person I do not wish to remember anymore... Enzo.

With tears brimming on my eyes, I slumped on the floor. Who could have done this? The picture frames consisted of the old ones that once served as decors on my bedroom walls ~ photos of me and Enzo since we were young, and new ones bearing our photos together on our latest trips ~ Bohol, Hongkong, and Macau. I stared at them one by one as tears began to fall. The albums must have been a new addition to the bunch. And those gifts... I have collected and treasured those gifts since I have learned the word "friends". He was fond of surprising me since then. The things that were not familiar to me must be the ones inside those freight boxes that have arrived throughout the entire time he was gone. Enzo kept on sending something despite of my burying my head in the sand. I wonder if he knew that I haven't opened any of those. Not until now that somebody did it on my behalf.

I crawled and reached out to one of the trays containing what seemed to be envelopes and folded notes. They must be the cards, letters, and notes that were sent together with his packages. I can see his handwriting on the envelopes. Should I open them? Will I believe the words that were written on them?