Tragically Yours

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20 years later

Every single time I fall asleep, the memory of me making a promise that I'll find her haunts me. It's been years, and yet, it's impressive how my brain can retain that kind of memory. It'll be helpful if my brain can also remember some other stuff in my life. Like that time when I need to retrace my steps to figure out where I misplaced my script. It turns out, letting a script lie around without supervision can make other people interested in the next play. But is it really a spoiler if a person have already known what kind of ending the playwright write in their drama? There are no other endings that exist in my plays, all of them ends up with the main character or the main love interest dying in a tragic death. And here I am wondering why there are numerous fan fiction about the same characters having a happy ending on the internet.

Unfortunately, it's been months since I found other kinds of tragic plot lines. It's also been months since I've gone back to writing plays in my spare time. I've been quite busy being a journalist that I'm slowly having a hard time finding the motivation on creating more plays. "Creativity takes time," a wise friend had once said to me. That same wise friend had also told me that, "Salami is just meat Pringles." So, I don't know if I should keep describing him as wise since he keeps ruining my thought in life.

A sudden buzzing sound of my phone vibrating against the wooden material of my bedside table caught my attention. I bet that's the wise friend I just mentioned. Or my boss telling me to go to work. Stretching my arm out and reach for my phone, I accidentally let out a guttural groan. Damn, that was a good stretch. I should do yoga one day if this is the feeling of it. Once I have my phone in hand, I check the message and hope it doesn't have any relation to an accident or something terrible events that had happened. But judging by the person who messaged me, he has a great chance of being in an accident.

Ethan: Ey, I know you're taking your vacation, but can you visit me here at work before I do something stupid?

And my vacation is over. A week worth of vacation immediately halted because of the growing concern that my friend might do something stupid. Again, I don't think wise is a great word to describe him.

Me: I'm uncertain if you're actually scared that you might do something stupid, or you've already had done it, and you want me to witness it.

Not even a second have passed, and he immediately has a reply.

Ethan: I know what you're insinuating, but I'm going to pretend that you trust me and this hypothetical accident doesn't exist.

In conclusion, he did do something stupid, and he wanted to tell me in person. I sometimes wonder how his mind works because I undeniably know it's not working normally occasionally. A groan escapes my mouth, even though he wouldn't hear it through the messages.

Me: Fine, I'll be there in an hour.

In reality, I would have been there less than an hour, but I want to make this week vacation shorten to a 3-day vacation, last until I show myself at work. Who knows what might happen if I show myself to work? Maybe my boss will think I've missed working, so he'll terminate my week of vacation. Knowing my boss, he might do that. Unless his wife is present, then he might be able to stop himself from doing that before his wife gets disappointed on his decision.

Ethan: Also, before you arrive here, could you please buy me some bagels? I'll pay you back when you get here :>

Why do I have this nagging feeling he won't pay me back? Also, once my mind read the word "bagels" my stomach begun to grumble. Another groan escapes my mouth.