You know who you are.

Party 101

And there we sat inside the dark garage room with Christmas decorations and lights. I sat there, quiet, unamused, frightened. I didn’t know anyone, I debated whether I should have gone or not, but I did.

I sat in the corner in front of the electric heater, the heat keeping my warm and comfortable amongst the strange and cold people. I got up from my chair and walked towards the food, the enticing Nilla wafers with nutella chocolate and bananas. I grabbed one, then two, then three, not caring what the group thought of me.

“It’s not like I’ll see them again.” I told myself and walked back to the chair that awaited me. I grabbed my book in order to escape this catastrophic mess. “You’re reading…?” she asked in surprise as I flipped the next page in The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I looked up and laughed at her, “Why of course. Why not? There’s nothing else to do.”
I nodded my head and continued to read, finding myself very happy with the current situation. “But it’s so loud, and you’re right in front of the music…” I turned another page, “I don’t mind, as long as I’m able to read.” I took a final look at the people around me, the group that crowded the table and the three girls that sat next to me. The outside world soon faded as I immersed myself in the text.

“Give me that!” another girl yelled as she grabbed the book from my hand. I guess there was no escaping socializing from these complete strangers. Her light brown eyes glared at me; I knew what she tried to articulate. “Fine.” I sighed, “I really debated to come here or not.” She gave an apathetic look, “I felt the same way, I don’t know anyone here besides you and Archie.” I got up and grabbed more food. Then they came in, two girls with large brown paper bags full of alcohol bottles. “Just give me one shot.” I said and downed the cold alcohol. It burned and reminded me why I hated to drink. “I just want to leave.” I whispered silently to myself and took out my phone.

Post it note.

I was cleaning my room when I glanced upon this small, rectangular box behind the bookshelf. Wondering what it was, I pushed my bookshelf to the side to check what the box was. As soon as I saw its old, circus-inspired engravings, I immediately knew what this “box” is.

“Hey.”

Memories started to flood as I touched and felt the deep, aged engravings and the small engraved lock that kept the contents inside the box safe. Good. Bad. Fun. Sad. Like a roller coaster ride, I started to coast through a volley of emotions that swept over me like a wildfire. I put the box down on the table and slowly sat myself at the couch. For a few minutes, I sat there - just staring at the box, wondering if I should open it or not.

“Open me, I know you want to.”

I edged closer to the table and studied the dusty box - there’s a word written on the top of it. “Destiny”, it clearly said in an outlandish, yet majestic font. I traced my fingertips over the word, pausing a little after every letter and gathering dust in the process. Has it really been that long? I wiped the box clean, removing all of the dirt that clung to it. A key. I needed a key to open the small lock that held the box shut.

“What would be the harm?”

I scoured my brain for the whereabouts of the key needed to open the box that laid in front of me. Then, it came to me. I grabbed the box and checked underneath. A small, ornate key was there, taped securely underneath the box. I slowly removed the tape and grabbed hold of the key. The key that acts like a gateway that prevents the river of memories from rampaging through my mind is now in my hands. Should I open the box or not?

“C’mon. Do it.”

I lodged the key inside the small lock and gave it a little turn. The lock popped out and made a small “clink” sound that somehow gave me a tug of comfort. I put the lock at the table, beside that old novel I somehow never get to finish. I put the box on my lap and slowly opened it. A soft, but definite wave of fragrance wafted from the box as I lifted its lid and as if by instincts, I smiled at the fragrance, wallowing in the fruity scent that seduced my sense of smell.

“Pick me up and remember.”

I looked at the contents of the box, and for a while, I felt like the contents of the box were looking at me too. A thousand pairs of eyes, pleading, hoping that I would remember what they signified. After a few minutes of gazing upon it’s contents, something caught my attention. I picked it up and held it close to my face. A yellow post it note, shaped like a heart, old and crumpled. A smile formed on my face as I started to read the words written on it. It really has been a long time.