PARVATI
The paper flapped uncontrollably in the soft breeze that piled in through the cracked open window. The contents of the paper were much more inviting than the soft smell of bacon that whisked through the gaps of the door. When I awoke in the morning, a small slip of paper was settled on my bed.
“Go to the beach. You see those four guys playing volleyball? Get the volleyball and that will lead you to the next mark. - J”
As a child, I was always intrigued by things that involved an essence of mystery. At the age of eighteen, that trait has not changed one bit.
Grabbing my tote bag that swung from side to side on my shoulder blade, I was out the door and in the elevator in a flash.
I creased the wrinkles out of the paper, scanning over the neat printing that centered on it. Biting my lip, I looked up at the four muscular boys that were around my age.
So? Go up to them, flirt, and grab the goddamn ball! My mind screamed in unison as a couple of girls that got splashed in the water by the shore.
Maybe if I were those girls by the shore, I would of gone up to those guys. Maybe if I were those girls by the shore, I would of flirted with those guys. But I wasn't one ofthem. I was Parvati. And Parvati can't talk to boys worth shit.
Nervously, I wobbled my way around the circle of boys that were pounding on a volleyball. I craned my neck to see a faint white piece of paper fluttering around with it, as well.
I hate you, Justin.
Rolling my eyes, I started to walk next to the volleyball court. Soon enough, the plan that I had set in my head all along proceeded and I felt a riveting punch to the back of my head.
The faint noises of bustling made me quickly tear the piece of paper off the volleyball before they could even ask me about it.
“Sorry! We weren't.. uh, looking.” One of them called before scooping up the volleyball and resuming their game.
Scoffing, I bellowed off down the sand with my bag clutched in my palm before I resided on a bench. Opening up the folded paper, my eyes trailed along, skimming the substance of his words that seeped through my brain.
“Good job, beautiful. Now you see the ocean out there? Do you see that tiny little object floating? That's your next clue. - J”
My eyes peered up at the ocean where a single tiny bottle floated, abandoned by anybody in sight. Sighing loudly, I scampered across the particles of washed out sand and stopped at the shore where waves crashed onto my feet.
After a moment, it dawned on me. I had to go into the water to retrieve the bottle.
I hate you, Justin.
Dropping my bag, I sloshed through the icy water that sent ripples up my spine, grabbing the bottle in the process. I was beginning to fire up with anger as each destination I got too made me do something I didn't like or wanted to do.
I wasted no time running up the beach, half my body wet and half my body dry. Unraveling the crinkled paper, I began reading just like I had done moments ago.
“I bet you're mad at me. I'll make it UP to you. Oh, by the way, look up - theres your next clue. What's BMILB backwards? - J”
I recollected myself, a few breathing exercises taking place before I finally craned my neck upwards to see a balloon tied to one of the palm trees. A white, folded paper hanging on the tiny little string.
