Opening the Door

by Cheyanne Rivera

I sit on the stair staring at the door

as the doorbell rings again.

Open it? I shouldn't.

It's probably a package for my roommate.

It might be my brother, come to check on me.

He shouldn't.

It's hard for him to stay at home.

I want to see my mom for Easter.

That also requires opening the door.

I drift from the stair to the front window.

The sky is darker

so time must have passed. I don't know how much.

Through the window I see

a lone package sitting on the porch.

I open the door.