Avila’s Adventure

It’s not the wrapping itself that makes the package contentious, it’s what the walls possess that raises a peculiar question.

​Growing up Avila Porter was always scolded for her acts. From the more “sensible” gestures such as her posture, her penmanship, the way she spoke, or how she presented herself, to even the smaller and simpler mistakes like how she held her cup of tea, or even how she would constantly have a knack for moving her legs in a time of consternation. Everything was glued into place, and if anyone tried to use a solvent to melt the borders away, you would break. But there was one thing that her duties couldn’t seize, and that was her love for exploring. Whether it be her mom's never-ending closet, or their estate’s willow gardens, she would always find a way to squeeze herself into an area filled with unimaginable possibilities.

​One day, Avila had slipped away from her father’s press meeting and managed to climb her way out to Merck Forest. She climbed up the trail until she found a small cranny perfectly blanketed with moss and damp trees. She laid her head back against one of the logs and looked up at the small cavity between the ring of trees surrounding her. The wafting smell of fresh blueberries and evergreen trees captivated her nose and soon her eyelids laid to rest. She was at peace. Her peace. Until an unfamiliar glow grabbed the attention of her eye. She woke up and noticed a trail of bluebells glowing in an iridescent shimmer. Avila propped herself up with her forearms and vaguely listened to the different notes that each flower sang. She walked towards their melody and watched as each perennial waltzed into the air and disappeared into mist. She followed the path until she suddenly came across a boulder blocking any way to go over or around it. She grunted in frustration, then kicked the base of the rock and winced once she realized what she had done. Her eyebrows knit in confusion and her lips curled in disappointment knowing that this adventure had come to an abrupt stop. She had turned around in a slump pose and started walking back to her original spot when she heard the boulder start to grind against the soil. She looked back to find a small cave that was only lit with the gleaming fixture of a package, wrapped in brown paper. She let out a faint gasp and watched as its glow pulled her to the mysterious box. She placed her hand below it wondering how it was wavering in thin air. She couldn’t resist its energy and suddenly pulled it from its base. She looked at it in amazement until suddenly she saw the light behind her diminishing and realized the boulder was closing the door to its secret. She had just barely made it out when she realized her dress had been caught in between the rock and its borders. She was about to drop the box, until she collected herself and ended up gently placing it to her side. She tugged at the satin fabric and soon her ribs deflated and crumpled into a small casing of pain. Avila sprung back up and let out a parade of laughter. She dusted off the dirt from her dress, and plucked the box from the ground when it suddenly started to melt. Panicked, she tried pushing it together and condensing it into its original form. But suddenly, she wasn’t holding a small box anymore, instead she was salvaging the last grains worth of sand it had turned into. She was desperately trying to grab at the last pieces of what it used to be, when she had realized that it had seeped through her fingers and had been washed away from the breeze. She looked at the last of the sand and slid her back against the front of the rock. She looked at her palms until she was filled with an army of emotions, battling to get her attention. She sighed and looked up at the sky when she saw it was filled with stars. She bolted back up on her feet and dragged herself back to her home.

​Upon her arrival, her mother and father greeted her with a load of questions, her maids rushed to her bathroom trying to get the bath set up, and her dog, Luna, was jumping against her side hoping to get a few belly rubs. Avila ignored each question, each maid, and each scurry Luna made with her nails. She just opened her door, closed it in all of their faces, and walked to her bed and plopped onto her back looking up at her vast ceiling. She replayed each moment, and studied it within her memory. Her mouth still open in awe and her eyes glittering with the last rush of excitement from her recent adventure, when she finally started to pull her thoughts together and drifted to sleep.

The light of the early sun trickled through the blinds, slowly waking her up. She lifted her arm to her side in order to ring her morning bell, warning the maid about her awakening and request for breakfast, when she had not felt the cold metal handle but instead the rough, flat base of a box. Her head darted to her hand when she realized that it was a box. The box. She sat up in her bed and clapped her hands in a giddy manner, and then quickly ripped the layers of paper from the body of the package. She looked at what she had encased and slowly peeled the stamp away from the final sheet of its skin. She had looked into the box when she suddenly found that it was filled with dried petals of bluebells. She turned the box upside down and shook it until a golden leaf waltzed into her lap. She picked it up, puzzled, and flipped it over to see if it had any purpose when suddenly the leaf revealed a sentence engraved with gold stating, “The journey matters more that the destination.” She didnt realize it yet, but this would only be the beginning to the mystery she unraveled.