The smell

It wasn’t the delivery of the strange box that brought me out of my deep slumber. It was really the smell that seemed to come from whatever lay inside of it. The smell could almost be described as a musty, mildewy paper smell. Made me think back to when I was working at the bookstore down the street where I live. In all honesty, the building had clearly seen better days. It looked like it was being held together by just patches that seemed to multiply almost every time I stopped by.

Now that my mind seemed to be running with all the possibilities of what could be causing this strange smell, there was no way that I was going back to sleep any time soon. Although mentally, I made up my mind that I was getting up and starting the day. It seems that my physical body was not really up for the challenge. It screamed at me; every joint painfully protested me, moving off the bed into the cold morning air. After finally getting myself out of bed, the smell once again hit me driving me to follow it down out of the bedroom into the hallway. My mind kept thinking about the bookstore and how much I missed that grumpy old man that owned it. The fact that it had only been a few months since I got the news that he passed away made me want to turn around and go straight back to the comforts of my very warm bed. At the same time, something pushed me to go further. Maybe it was curiosity or maybe even the desperation of needing to have some form of comfort. To know that maybe someone out there truly cared enough to check on me.

As I slowly made my way to the front door of my apartment, if you could even call it that. In all honesty, the place might have been in worse condition than the bookstore that I keep reminiscing over. I guess, in a way, you get what you pay for it. To say that I was paying cheap was an understatement, but with my unreliable income, it was the best I could do at the time. Finally, I made it to the door, where the smell seemed to only of gotten stronger. It was almost intoxicating. As I grabbed the handle, a thought scared me to the core.

‘What if there was a dead body outside my door? What was I going to do? ‘

In the end, my curiosity won the fight, and as I slowly opened the door, all I could do was laugh at myself. To anyone else, I might even look like a crazy person. All it was a small box with my name printed right in the middle.

The package floored me. I didn’t order anything and what really stumped me was the fact that there was no return address or sender. This thought seemed to cause the fear from before to rush back in full force.

‘What if it is a bomb? Why would someone send me a bomb? I’m not important.’

Deciding to overcome my fears, I reached down to pick up the small brown box, hoping that I soon don’t blow up and die in the process.

‘Now, would that be a bad thing?’

Forcing the dark thoughts out of my mind, I quickly reached down with my shacky hands and picked up the package. Nothing seemed to happen, or at least it didn’t blow up in my face. Although the smell seemed to intensify, making my mind swarm with more questions than before.

‘What could it possibly be?’

‘Who could have sent it?’

With each thought passed by, another minute also seemed to be gone. Soon I would need to start writing an article hoping that someone would buy it. Because if I’m being honest, I’m barely scraping by paying the bill or even putting food on the table. All of this made my head hurt. I was starting to get another migraine which meant another day with no work being done. Which frustrated me even more. I was really tempted to put the box down and return to my bed. I could worry about it tomorrow. The only problem was that I couldn’t get past my curiosity about what could possibly be in the box. I finally decided to push past my protest and went to the kitchen for a knife to open the box. It was so light that I almost thought I might have forgotten that I even picked it up if it wasn’t for the feeling of the edge digging into my thumb. After what felt like forever, I finally made it to the kitchen, but as I reached for the knives. A thought popped into my head.

‘What if there was another person in the building with my same name?’

Although, as I mauled over, I soon realized that might be a little too far-fetched, so I did the inevitable. Bringing the knife across the top of the box and looking inside, I soon realized that it was something. It was my favorite book that I loved from the bookstore. As I picked up the book, a letter fell out with my name printed on it from none other than Mr. Grey. The bookstore owner passed away not too long ago, and just the sight of his name made me want to curl into a ball, crying to myself for comfort. I soon found myself eagerly opening the letter.

Dear Matthew

Hello, I know that this will probably come as a surprise to you. Because of how I treated you over the years. Although I was tough on you, all I wanted was to simply encourage you. I wanted you to see the potential that I saw in you. Now that is over since we both know I don’t like talking much, I will just get to the point I don’t have any family that I keep in touch with; the only person over the last part of my life that has ever seemed to care was you. You always came in even when we both knew you didn’t want to be out of bed. You came into making sure that I took my meds and ate. You did this without any need for any type of payment. I never showed you, my gratitude. So, getting to the point in the book, you will find the address of my lawyer. He will have my will. He knows you are coming and is ready. To end this letter if you do not show up he will be surprising you with a visit he knows where you live. I see you as my son and you have shown me so much, unconditional love even when I didn’t deserve it. From what you have told me and what I’ve seen you do it for a lot of people. I think its about time you got some of that love yourself. That is why I never want you to worry about anything again.

P.s. Do not stress about what happened because I truly did care for you even though I didn’t show it.