An Anonymous Call

Chapter 12- An Opportunity

30th March, 2014: 

4:00 p.m.: 

The miniature TV screen that was hung on a pillar opposite of me brightened, displaying the next number to be called. It was my turn. I stood up and walked to Counter 30. It was far on my right, alongside the entrance to the restroom. 

A man in his mid-forties sat on a swivel chair, facing his desktop meticulously. I suppose he was entering some highly significant data to be registered, not wanting a single mistake. He wore a pair of rimless eyeglasses, which were tipped at the bridge of his nose. He was bald and had a greyish beard. 

Noticing my arrival, he greeted me, "Ah, good evening. May I assist you?" 

He seemed friendly enough to share my story and speak with. I was nervous. Sharing my story with a complete stranger was dangerous enough. But this stranger was willing to help. A bright smile appeared on his face, as I stammered to speak. It was my first time being alone in such an open area, speaking to an unknown person. 

"Good evening. I-I'm here 'cause I wanted to uh-uh further my enquiries on a pr-problem I have here.." I stuttered. I avoided eye contact, just so I didn't embarass myself. 

"Naw, it's alright. Don't be nervous. I'm always ready to aid and guide my clients to the correct path. So what is the issue that has been bothering you?" he replied. He was so gentle and kind, so calm and friendly. He paused from his desktop, crossed his arms on the desk, ready to listen to whatever I had to say. 

I shrugged. I had faith in this man. His character had made me thought of him trustworthy. I looked directly at him. His eyes were the window to the soul, he sure was willing to assist me in any way possible. 

I dropped my stammers and spoke with ease. "There has been this number who's been calling me. This person remains unknown, and the number isn't registered in my contacts list. Will there be any way that I can block this number so that he won't ever call back?"

I searched for my phone in my purse. I gripped it tightly in my hands. The man could tell I was worried and fearful. 

"I see. How long has this... person, been calling you?" he questioned.

"I've kept track of his calls," I said as I switched on my phone and jumped to the logs screen. 

I passed my phone to him. I began explaining what Sai and I discovered, although I did not reveal Sai's name. He took my story into consideration. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, wondering if he was actually going to help or not. 

He returned my phone, and I grasped it in my right hand. He could see that I was desperate for a response. I thought about sharing my past with Channy, but I brushed that aside. 

"I can feel your confusion and fear, I can see that you're distressed and displeased. But I cannot simply expose his identity as well. We keep our clients' identities hidden and secure. I cannot object to the regulations. I'm very sorry, but the best you can do is file in a police report," he told me with concern. 

"But can't you just block the number for me? I just want this person to stop calling me, that's it. I won't ask for more. Or why don't you just contact this person and threaten him that if he calls me again, your company will cut off all his communication services?" I interrogated. Staffs nearby glanced at me. They thought I was going bonkers. 

I lost it. I completely lost my temper. I lost everything. I don't think I would be able to convince this man again. I acted so childish.

But wait. I have one more thing that could persuade this man into doing what I wanted. I quickly entered the PIN in my phone and switched to my Inbox. There it was, begging to be viewed, begging to be opened and read. 

He tried to comfort me. "M-miss, please, c-calm dow--"

With a touch of my index finger, I opened the chat with the blank messages and thrust the phone into his hands. 

He glared at the object in his big palms. Was he going to lose his temper? 

After what I assumed was two minutes of complete silence, he lay the phone on the desk as an act of returning it back. I grabbed it and shoved it straight into my tassel purse as he said, "All I can ask of you is to file in a police report and let the police handle this case. You can just sit back and relax, and not worry about a single problem after that." 

I pushed my feet, dragging the chair backwards with a deafening screech of metal against tile. I stood with my back facing him. As I walked away, I murmured at least loud enough for him to hear, "And all I can ask of you is just to block him. Is it that difficult to do so?" 

I was angry. I thought that my case would be solved. I've wasted my time coming here. I've lost all hope. 

I did not want to expose Sai. Or Channy. Or anyone I knew if I was able to. If I were to file in a report, Sai and Channy would be involved. My family as well. That would put them all in grave danger. If John Doe is keeping track on my activity, they could be the next target. Channy would think of me as a betrayer, as a backstabber. We knew that our past would be confidential. I would be the cause of this, I would take the blame. And I did not want my allies to accuse me. 

The police are working with the government. They are our heroes who control the world. They have the right to share this with the public, to broadcast it live. They are the ones who protect our city from vicious criminals who defy the law. 

But if they shared it with the public, John Doe would trail me, he would stalk me. Worse, I would be murdered. 

But if I told the police about my past with Channy, what if they could track down the culprit? Futhermore, what if they could trace the man, who ruined our childhood, who took Channy into hostage? 

There were so many good and bad things that could happen if I filed in a report. 

Should I, or should I not?