The Parcel - T.J. Clausen-Adams (best selling autobiographies txt) 📗

I looked around me- dazed, confused. Where was I? More importantly, who was I? I felt a bump on the top of my head and there was blood on the floor. A large parcel lay a few feet in front of me. Seeing the parcel triggered off something in my mind, and a memory started to unfold like a film I had never seen before...
The memory was of a couple with grave faces, holding the very parcel a few feet from me. While staring, I felt fear and curiousity that I knew was not mine. Then the black haired man started speaking. "Alania, this package is moi importante, very important. If we had a warrior capable of this task, we wouldn't be sending you, barley a women." The woman, who had a loving face, with grey streaked hair, spoke. "You know what you are to do, correct Alania?" the woman asked, speaking so quietly because she was so close to tears. "Of course I do mother. I'm not a little girl, I can take care of my self." This voice did not have a face, but the woman sounded confident, yet a little scared. "Alright Alania. Be safe, my dear." Again the man spoke, but this time, he did not look toward me.
Then, the memory ended. "Who is Alania? Where am I?" I pondered. I asked aloud, hoping for some kind of answer, but all i got was silence. I looked down at that instant to see if I could get a hint of who I was or where I was. I was wearing a long sleeved, knee high, black dress, with what looked like ruby stitched into the hem. "No way could I aford this! I dont remember who I am, but I would remember being rich!" Again, I spoke aloud, hoping for a response. It remained silent after I spoke. I reached up to feel my hair. It was in a sleek ponytail, and it was blonde and straight. When I pulled my hang away, it had some blood on it! "Oh, thats why there is blood on the floor!" Then I realized, I had a nice voice, but I also realized, that my voice matched the faceless voice from the memory! "So I dont know what I'm doing here, with a parcel my parents intrusted in my care, which contains who knows what. Guess the only way to figure it out, is to open it up." I spoke aloud just to brake the silence this time. I got up and started walking towards the parcel, but stumbled. I stared at my feet, dumbfound! I was wearing thigh high boots, with heels about 5inch's long! I started walking towards the parcel again, more carefully this time.
When I reached the parcel, I noticed that it had a large, purple ribbon, with ice blue wrapping paper. I carefully removed the bow, and quickly unwrapped it. Inside I discovered some pesent clothes, and normal shoes, (thank the Lord!) When I removed the cloth and leather, a thick, chunky letter fell out. When I opened it, a majority of the papers were very official looking, but the last one was hand written. "Dear daughter," it read, "We are sorry to do this to you. Your name is Patricia Ali..."

To Be Continued

Publication Date: 08-15-2010

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