Present

The aroma of vanilla and coffee tingle my nose as I press the button on the machine and watch as it fills a cup with rich brown liquid and a thick white foamy layer of milk. I remove it gently from the machine and place it on a tray. One last order and you can go home and not come back for two days. I muster up the strength to put a smile on my face and head out into the seating area. 

It was almost closing time, but the coffee shop was still bustling with chatter and the occasional laugh. I check my order form again to see who the coffee is for. Steven Ashfield: Table 5. I walk over to the table to see an aged man with brown hair whose tips started to turn grays and brilliant blue eyes that shined like sapphires under sunlight. He was dressed in a trench coat, typical for the rainy weather we have been having, but he looks so out of place in between the other patrons with his stern and lifeless face. I place his drink on the table in front of him and smile, but he doesn’t react. I quickly turn back around and start to leave when I felt a tug at my wrist. I look back at him staring at my bracelet with wide eyes.

“Is there a problem, sir?” I ask. He doesn’t respond and tightens the grip around my wrist, pulling at the bracelet.

“Excuse me. Can you please let go of my arm?” Then, all of a sudden, he lets go of my arm and stares at me, his pupils huge with awe. 

“Where did you get that bracelet?” he asks in shock. I was surprised. Why is he acting so strange? It’s just a charm bracelet after all. However, I tell him that I had it ever since I was a little girl. Now, his mouth opens and it looks like he was about to have a heart attack. I was about to ask him if he was okay and if he needed water when he interjected, “Are you Roxy Gray?” 

“Yeah…” I answer hesitantly. How did this guy know my name? I never saw him here before. I look down at my apron. I don’t even have my name tag on. I look at the man once again and was about to ask how he knew me when he interrupted me again.

“Did you get my package?”

Now it was my turn to act shocked. This morning’s events come flooding back to me and I remember the box that I so carelessly threw on to the floor.

That Morning

I wake up startled and drenched in sweat. My mind races. “How did I get here?” I wonder. I am thankful when I realized that it was only a dream. As I ponder the meaning of my nightmare and try in vain to remember every scene, the morning sunlight seeps through the dusty window and into my eyes. With sweat dripping down my face, I throw off my blanket and sleepily stumble out of the bedroom.

In the kitchen, I grab a glass of fresh, ice-cold water and guzzle it down. Putting the glass back on the counter, I turn to head back upstairs to start my day when the doorbell rings. That’s weird. It's only 7 AM. No one comes to my house at this time...or ever. I feel my hands start to fold into fists, a natural instinct I gained from past experiences. I walk toward the front door and slowly turn the doorknob. I swing open the door and poke my head outside. There’s nothing there other than a few cigarette butts that littered the hallway. Probably just those stupid kids again. Just as I am about to close the door with a burst of anger, something catches my eye. It's a brown cardboard box. I bend down and cautiously picked it up to inspect. There’s no return address, only my name “Roxy Gray” written in a hurried scribble. “It’s probably just some stupid prank,” I thought to myself. I throw it aside and it lands with a thud on the ground.

Present

 I run back into the kitchen and out through the back door. How did he know I have a package? How did he know my name? I need to see what’s inside that package and why this man knew me.