Lost Time

Chapter 2: the box

I could hear someone shuffling around so I opened my eyes. Olivia was rummaging through her dresser, But stopped when she realized that I was awake. 

"Good morning. Hey, have you seen my dark wash jeans?", she asked, turning back towards her dresser. I sat up and answered, 

"No. Don't you only wear those jeans when your about to do something you shouldn't?"

She looked over at me and rolled her eyes, "You know me so well. I'm going to meet Alice at TPA. Want to come?". She knew that I hated that place, so she was just asking to be nice by inviting me. 

"No thanks. I'm going to stay here and open that package that I got yesterday. Maybe do some laundry, who knows?"

She shook her head saying, "Do you ever have any fun?", she joked.

"Fun? What's that, I've never heard of it?", I teased, smirking. 

She rolled her eyes again. "Whatever. Yes, I found them!", she shouted, slipping the jeans on. I laid back down and rolled over. 

"Have fun!", I shouted after her, Wondering why she was going to The Poisoned Apple so early. Was it even open yet? Apparently, The Poisoned Apple is the only place in Greenville where teenagers can go to have fun. TPA is pretty much a legal, underage club that doesn't sell alcohol. It's disgusting and smells terrible, but Oli likes to go and listen to the local bands that occasionally play there. I think I went back to sleep for another half-hour or so, because when I open my eyes again, I smell bacon. I let out a long groan. 

"Oh, no", I mumble to myself.  Now I know why Oli left so early. My mother is in her mourning state. She will probably be cooking all of our meals for the next couple of days. That would be fine if she knew how to cook. Sure enough, while getting dressed, I smell burnt bacon. A high pitched beeping noise makes me wince. I go out into the hallway and disable the smoke detector, then force myself down the stairs. The kitchen reeks of burnt grease, and that's when I see that bacon is not the only thing she made. I sit down at the table and see that my plate has already been made for me. My mom enters the dining room and opens a window. 

"So unpredictable. I set it to 400, and it decides to cook at 450.", She mumbles, blaming the oven. 

"Right, mom. We could just get a new one.", I suggest.

"Waste of money. This one is fine.", she grumbles. I roll my eyes. Of course you wouldn't want to get a new one; if you did, then you wouldn't have anything to blame, I think to myself. I look down at my plate in disgust. The burnt bacon is laying next to what looks like a black rock and what I think are burnt eggs. 

"So...what did you make exactly?", I asked hesitantly.

"Just some bacon, eggs and, um, biscuits?", she replies.

She looks at me sympathetically and says, "You don't have to eat it if you don't want to, Sammy."

I let out a relived sigh. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I will be in my room if you need anything.", I yell to her, walking up the stairs. 

"Got any spare cooking skills? I would take those!", She yelled after me, chuckling. 

I shook my head and closed the door to my room. The real reason that I was in a rush to get back up here was to open that box. It's been on my mind ever since I woke up. Being home schooled, i never had a lot of friends. I still don't, but I realized a while ago that you really only need one great friend. And i am so lucky that I have one Me and Oli met through our mom's. They were friends, and they thought that it would be a good idea to introduce us. It had been a great idea, as you can see. We've been best friends since we were three years old. She has helped me through some stuff and I have done the same for her. I sat down at my desk, grabbed my house key, and opened to box. The first thing I saw was a note. I opened the note and read. 

Dear Samantha, if you are reading this , it must mean that I am dead. The reason that I arranged for you to receive this package was that I needed someone I trusted to carry on my mission. I needed someone smart, young, and with a good heart, like you. The contents in this box are very important. They must be kept a secret from everyone. Except for Olivia, who we both know that you will tell anyway. you must keep this a secret from your mother. I know that it will be hard, But you mustn't tell her. I will not give you any instructions on what to do with the contents of this box. That is something that you must discover for yourself. Take good care of your mother for me, will you?  With love, Grandpa.

Something wet dropped onto the paper and I realized that I was crying. I sat the note on my desk and wiped my eyes. I pulled the box closer to me and looked inside. "Wait, what?", I whispered to myself. This must be some sort of joke. The box was full of...newspapers? Old, crumpled, coffee-stained newspapers? And they were all from the Greenville Press, out local newspaper station. So, what, he just saved a bunch of newspapers from back in the day? Maybe there is something written on them, I thought. I spent the next four hours scouring every single page, every word, but there was nothing. No writing, No secret code, not even a silly doodle. Annoyed, I gathered all of the papers and dropped them back into the box. A stray page flouted to the ground and I bent down to grab it. The front cover read, 'Man Commits Suicide By Jumping Off A Building'. That doesn't sound like something that would have happened 50 years ago, I thought. I looked at the date and gasped. I dropped the newspaper and ran across the room to my bedside table. I grabbed my phone and looked at the date. Sunday, April 26, 2019. I walked back over to the paper and picked it back up. I reread the date. Monday, April 27, 2019. I rushed over to the box on my desk, picked up another page, and read the date. Wednesday, April 29, 2019. I thought for a minute and then let out a disbelieving laugh. So my grandfather left me with a bunch of newspapers with date typos. Great. I put the papers back into the box and closed it. I carried the box over to the closet and set it on one of my shelves. I walked back over to the desk, picked up the note, and threw it away. Olivia always said that she thought my grandpa was a little weird. If I tell her about this, it will only confirm her suspicions. I walked back to my bed and sat down. I felt weird, kinda numb. After that note, I expected more. I laid back on my pillow and started reading my latest fascination. I'm sad to say that I am 18 years old and never read Wuthering Heights. Oli thought I was crazy for not having read it before, so she insisted that I read it. Oli returned about two hours later. Just in time too, seeing as I had just finished reading Wuthering Heights. She came into the room looking exhausted. 

"So, did you have a good breakfast?", she taunted.

I shot her a glare and replied, "No thanks to you. What did you have?"

She smirked and replied, "A Mcflurry and a hash brown from Mcdonalds."

"What?! My food choices for the day were black rocks while you got to eat the breakfast of champions?", I screamed. i ran across the room and tackled her, tickling her sides. 

"Wait, wait! Stop!", she screamed. 

"I b-brought Chinese h-home!", she pleaded. 

I stopped tickling her and rushed downstairs to see that my favorite egg rolls were on the kitchen table with an array of other Chinese foods. 

"Lucky", I mumbled. 

She came downstairs after me and asked, "Hey, did you ever open that box?"

I nodded. "Well? what was in it?", she pushed. 

"Nothing", I lied.

She could tell that I was lying, but she could also tell that I didn't want to talk about it right now. 

"Dig in!", she shouted, then starts piling her plate full of food. That's when I realize how hungry I am. I will tell her about the box...soon, I promise myself.