It was 8th period and I couldn't wait any longer. Mother told me before I left for school that a package from my father was coming today. On my way home I ran as fast as I could, tripping over myself. Father had been at war for so long he barely had time to send notes or packages. As I stepped inside, mother told me that the package was on my bed. I ran up the stairs and opened it. I ripped it open violently. Inside, was a small piece of paper that had very familiar handwriting. The paper read, "turn around."