Whisper's Of The Water

Chapter-1 Station: Infinite Path

Now-Olivia

A broken heart man can give you a hundred theories for life. I have my own "If you remain in the past, the past never leaves you and the future never remains with you".

It's been years and I still didn't hear from her. 

I haven't seen her, nor heard her voice, nor touched or kissed her delicate pale lips and rosy freckled cheeks. I miss her sparkling green shadow forest, mistaken as eyes.

Each poster I hung up showed the same eyes I carve to touch. An attractive young girl appears in the photo, posing in her favourite red polka-dot dress, with mischief smile.

I served as a Chief Editor in the Youth Magazine for the past three years. There were twenty-three Starbucks within a four-block radius of the building I work in. In high school, I never thought I would work in youth magazines. I always make fun of my classmates for reading Youth Magazines.

Now joke on me.

I was halfway to editing the final page of the Youth Magazine writer had sent. It was exactly about that- how people either suffered or lost their memory and how they lived their daily lives.

There was one teenager in NYC,  who had spoken of
suffering from a traumatic brain injury. Four of her family members had died in the car, but she was the only one who was unconscious and got into a coma. A week later, she woke up and reported she "doesn't know who she is".

Yesterday, there was a report about a teen, maybe 14 or 15 who had suffered from an overdose of drugs. According to a certified doctor in Long Island Jewish Medical Center, the minor most likely was hit by something while fighting someone or bumping into something, when they were drugged. After a few hours, they were found passed out on a sidewalk near Trader Joe's, and then they were picked up by the ambulance. There were also a few other people in the article mentioned, but it's too much to say. Hopefully, everything is fine now with all of those people.

I found my tiny sliver line that day when, I hear loud footsteps and a bang, followed by the opening of the office door. Inside stomped Mike Jensen.

   Mike is one of those friends you have for the rest of your life like you were born with him and never lose touch with him. Ever. It's like he was destined to be here, destined to go through everything. Despite our numerous disagreements (caused by my stubborn spirit, which he dislikes to a great extent), he was always there for me.

Now and then, we always had one argument, we can't settle, since he thinks I go "overboard". However, I just can't move on. I need closure. There's unfinished business that needs to be taken care of.

   He's also very attractive to most people, with his pale grey eyes, silky dark hair and light brown stubble. His jawline is distinctly highlighted and outlined. The man himself is like a masterpiece painted by an experienced and talented artist.

   "How many fucking times, Olivia? How many? You can't just make missing reports about people who left you. If she cares about you, she will find you. It's not that hard to sniff you out," he said and smacked me square on the back.

   So, he'd seen them. Did he spy on me going to the police too?

   Now, I wonder what those people would think if they had seen him right now. Is he attractive now?

  "Mike, I can't just sit around and wait for her to come. I don't know where she is. Or if she is safe. I have no clue, Mike," I whispered, rubbing the back of my neck in my pain. Besides, a part of me had felt that I owed her an explanation for not keeping my promise.

  I didn't start a conversation about her. I was just editing work, and he came in and decided to judge what I'm trying to do. What the hell?

  The last remark seemed to be ignored by him, as he hummed next to me and then sat on other chairs with his legs crossed. "I understand Oliva, I do. But what if she doesn't want to be found? Did that ever cross your mind? And what about Kristen?"