One time she tried to open a box but her parents were home and she didn’t want her parents to know what was in the box because she had ordered it on Amazon with an Amazon gift card she had bought at the drug store and if her parents found out what was in there, she didn’t know what they would say, but she imagined it dark and scary and really not good.
She tried to open the box in her room, but when she fumbled with the scissors to cut the tape, it made a noise and caught the attention of her dad who burst into her room and asked, “What was that noise?”
She hid the box under some books, and told her dad, “I dropped my books.”
Her dad grunted but left. She tried again to open the box, but the tape on the bottom of the box rubbed up against the plastic of a binder that was underneath it and then squeaked loud enough to cause her dog to start barking and her Dad to run in again and ask, “What was that noise?”
She fell to her bottom and pretended to try and take off her sneakers, deftly pulling the box down with her and placing it behind her. She told her Dad, “My sneakers rubbed against each other! Oh how I hate the squeak!” She pulled off her shoes. Her Dad, this time, suspicious, said, “I’ll take those sneakers from you and oil them up.” He did. And he left.
Determined to open the box before anything else could happen, she pulled at the tabs on the box as hard as she could. The tape, weakened from the scissors she had used on it, snapped apart, sending the girl flying across the room. The girl hit her head on the far wall with a loud bang. Dizzy, she stood up, afraid that her dad would come to check on the noise. But he didn’t. And the box was open.
She took out the item. It was underwear.
