TWO DAYS LATER, FRIDAY

Mom, Dad, and Amy were all asleep. I was in the garage in the Ford with the box in my hands. I cut it open with some scissors left in there and peered inside curiously. Inside was a yellow business package. I took that one out and opened it, only to find a plastic Ziploc bag with a regular-sized letter envelope inside. I opened the bag and took the envelope out, peering at it closely. It had one word on it: sIght. The handwriting was very plain. It was written in print and simple black ballpoint pen. The only thing strange about the actual text was that the “I” was capitalized but the “S”, the first letter, was not. It emphasized the “I” in my reasoning. The “I” in sight. It is strange to think of how simply the puzzle was presented to me, yet I had so much trouble with solving it.

I opened the envelope carefully, not ripping it at all and pulled out the paper inside. It was folded in half. I turned on the light on the roof of the truck and looked at the paper closely under it. It was just regular parchment to me then. I slowly unfolded it, not knowing why I was being so cautious. Inside it was typed with what looked like a typewriter. I furrowed my brows: No one used typewriters anymore. My eyes scanned over the letters like they weren’t even there. I read the letter, but I didn’t know what it said. I read it again, again, again, and again with the same result every time. I couldn’t see and I didn’t understand. I was frustrated. I put it back in the envelope and went into the house grumpily, leaving the garbage in the truck. I got to my room and tossed the envelope on my desk, flinging myself on my bed and crawling under the covers.