Opaque

37 | A Thoughtful Night

"Thinking is the hardest work there is, which is probably the reason why so few engage in it." - Henry Ford

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Night. A period of time during one's life that can be full of darkness, shadows, monsters, and nightmares, but also of dreams, memories, and reflections of one life.

I've experienced both aspects. There have been a multitude of dark nights in my life, but I'd be lying if I said I never experienced a happy dream-filled night. And that's what makes everything harder and more painful. I've known happiness, felt what pure bliss feels like and that is why it's harder for those who have lived their life in luxury to be accustomed to poverty.

All of that being thought and said, I cherished those nights when all I did was sleep for thinking led to analyzing and that led to criticizing, which led to my faults being splattered out on a white piece of paper, too big to ignore and too small to fix. Therefore, mindlessly sleeping, dreaming arbitrary dreams where anything and everything was possible and I was happy, was good. 

But I hadn't had one of those in a while. 

After I found Liz, safe and sound, in her house, I proceeded to survey the entire area around her house. While she sat in the comfort of her bed, I did everything humanly possible to make sure that Chad was no where near her. 

I didn't care what other's thought or said. Chad was bad news. 

A few hours later, the sun had gone down and the inky blackness had befallen all of New York City. Although I knew I had to leave at some point, the fear that Chad or some other perpetrator would come and harm Liz kept bothering me like a itch I couldn't reach. I didn't want to turn my back to Liz for even a minute because, knowing my luck, the second I did, I was sure something bad would happen to her. 

However, eventually, her parents arrived from work and I had to leave before I could attract unwanted attention. I was sure her parents were oblivious to the fact that the daughter they thought was their own was, in actuality, someone else's. The web of lies Agent Matthew had spun was all over the place, intricate, and highly complicated. 

I couldn't imagine what Liz and her parents would go through once the truth was unveiled. 

Before I left, I made sure to leave a souvenir of mine, for my own assurance. A camera, small and undetectable, pinned to the tallest tree in front of Liz's house. In my own apartment, I could easily watch everyone who entered and left her house on my laptop. I felt like a stalker until I realized that my job actually needed me to be one in order to succeed. 

If I didn't keep track of Liz, I would automatically fail in my mission for her safety was my priority. 

Once I made my way home and turned on my laptop, instead of falling asleep while watching the uneventful video feed, I somehow managed to stay awake and think. Just think. 

I guessed, thinking was an important action for human survival. It was also something most people, nowadays, didn't do much of. So, I thought. 

I thought about everything from the day I joined the FBI to the moment I came up with the idea to include Blaze into the mission, which I was seemingly manipulated into thinking and pitching. Once I was tired of trying to answer all the whys and the hows, I found myself thinking about Mia and Axel. 

Axel's words echoed in my head as if he was sitting right besides me, whispering them in my ear. Once I began thinking and analyzing and criticizing the meaning behind his words, I couldn't stop. 

There was something powerful behind his words, something pure. Like truth. 

I wasn't exactly sure--let's be honest, no one is ever sure of anything in this world for life, in and of itself, is an uncertainty--how Axel and Mia fit into this mess of a case, but I could feel it in the rhythmic dance of my heart. I could feel it in my gut, my liver and my kidneys. I could feel it's significance coursing through my veins like a drug and I could sense the gears in my head turning as I tried to put two seemingly different puzzle pieces together. 

It was difficult and complicated, crazy yet logical, clear and a mess, but eventually, I tired of thinking. 

My eyes slowly closed and I drifted to sleep with the words, "don't tell Opaque," swirling in my head. 

I guessed thinking wasn't as bad as I thought it would be because after staying for the better half of the night, I had managed to get a lead. 

Although it was Saturday and my day off duty, all I could focus on was my mission, my case. I itched to go to the FBI headquarters, but I was sure the office was closed. I wanted to call Agent Beta and ask her to join me as I broke into my own workplace, but I decided against it. 

It was a risky idea, one that could get me fired and thrown into jail, but I had to do it all on my own. For and by myself. 

As soon as the sun greeted my alert eyes, I dressed myself in haste. I wore my training outfit, the one I specifically wore to the office if I needed to look intimidating yet gentle. All clad in black, with a messy braid hanging on my right shoulder, I picked up my duffle bag filled with small pistols, spare clothes, a water bottle, and tools to break into buildings, and walked out of my apartment. 

The train ride to the office was uneventful as always, as I kept my head down and avoided eye contact with most people, but once I walked down the two city blocks to the building, my nerves decided to run amock in my head. 

All my insecurities, doubts, and suspicions smacked me in my face like a brick. I felt overwhelmed. 

As I stood underneath the tall five-story building, which was tiny compared to the giant skyscrapers in the neighborhood, I felt the urge to run back home. I really, badly wanted to forfeit. 

But I stood my ground and evened my breathing and silenced my demons by telling myself that I was not a coward. Besides, I was doing this for good. 

I had a lead and I was going to test it out and for that to happen, I needed to bend the rules slightly and simply break in to my workplace. There was nothing wrong with that. Or at least, that's what I told myself. 

Putting everything on the line, I was going to take the risk because life was cruel to those who abide by the rules. Only risk-takers became leaders. 

With that thought in mind, my heart in my hand, I stepped onto the plate and swung my baseball bat. But I didn't hit a home run.

Not even close. 

The doors to the building were already opened and I was not alone.

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