The suitcase

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Tuesday 7.00 A.M.

I wake up from a familiar sound. It's my alarm going off, in the suitcase. I dropped it in the middle of the room last night, because I was way to tired to put it away. I get out of bed and open it up. My phone is on top. I turn the alarm off and see that I've missed some calls. 3 from Mason, 1 from Michael and 1 from an unknown caller. I've always told myself not to call back to unknown numbers, so I don't do it this time either. 
In the suitcase there are some clothes, my tooth- and hairbrush, some makeup, my laptop, my schoolbooks and of course: my LA-poster. I unfold it and hang it on the ceiling, right above my bed. Just where it should be. 
I've decided that I really like it here, so I start putting my stuff in the closet. When I open the big wardrobe, I see that there are still some of Hannah's old clothes in there. I'm not just going to trow those out, so I move them to one side of the wardrobe and put my clothes in the other side. In front of the window, there's a little table, too small to do my homework on, so I put my makeup, toothbrush, toothpaste and hairbrush on there. It's now a little makeup table. I love it. 
I pick up the empty suitcase to put it at the bottom of the wardrobe, but as I lift it, a black notebook falls out. It doesn't look familiar. It's completely black with small gold letters on the front.

LITTLE THINGS WILL BECOME GREAT MEMORIES 

It has little notes and pictures sticking out of the sides. I'm surprised nothing has fallen out yet. I pick up the notebook and sit down at the large desk. I move the giant laptop aside and put the notebook in front of me. 

'It must be my mom's. She must have put it in there for me', I mumble.

'What?' 

Mason makes me jump as he stands in the doorway. I turn my chair around and fake a smile.

'Mason!?' 

I try to hide the notebook behind my back. 

'What's that you got there?', he asks pointing at the notebook.

'Nothing', I lie,'just... my em...math book'

'Math? During vacation?'

I know he can see right trough me, so I turn around, put the notebook in my backpack and stand up. 

'I'm hungry. You fancy some breakfast?', I ask.

'Yeah, sure', Mason says, not really knowing what just happened.

We head downstairs and all I can think about is what's in the notebook. And why did I just lie to Mason? I never lie to him. I have no idea what came over me. Why would my mom leave me an old notebook, probably filled with memories. Memories of what? Our time together? Because I don't want to see that. I want to forget my parents and everything we ever did together. 

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