The Case of Monachopsis

Prologue- The Girl with One Eye

Authors note: After 8 years, I've finally managed to finish writing this story. It's not without its flaws obviously. This work is a mix of cliches and tropes that I found comforting during the 7 years of my life when everything was falling apart. I've used this story and it's characters to cope with a lot in my life. It's sort of reflected in the writing. There's some heavy themes here so read at your own comfort. But I am open to criticism and I'll fix whatever is deemed offensive or romanticizing something that shouldn't be romantic! It may not be my best writing or novel or anywhere close to the quality of a real novel, but it is my most beloved and cherished piece of work. I hope you enjoy reading it <3 and if you can name all the trope and cliches, I will applaud and reward you

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Sluggishly working till the crack of dawn was nothing new to Ira Lagear. She had spent an inordinate amount of time feeling as if she could drop dead from exhaustion. Every time she closed her eyes, she willed herself back into the waking word. She hated this feeling. She hated being here, filling out this useless paperwork for the Bureau. Ira took a breath through her nose as the comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee filled her lungs. It did little to soothe the dull ache in her head. Deciding that she was in need of a refill, Ira stood up from her desk.

Everything was quiet aside from the occasional shuffling of papers as she made her way to the break room. There were others from a different department who were standing and chatting idly amongst themselves. They all paused when Ira entered the room. Blissfully unaware, she continued walking towards the magical self-replenishing coffee pot, determined to get her refill. As she reached out for it, one of the officers stalked toward her with an unrelenting need to get up close and personal.

"What happened to you?"

"Uh, I'm sorry?-" Ira sputtered, quickly, before glancing from the coffee pot to the officer inches away from her face.

"Your eye. That's one nasty scar you got." The officer clarified, taking Ira's acknowledgement as initiative to keep leaning in closer.
Gently, Ira's fingers swept across the soft scar tissue as she traced the outline of where her right eye once was. She used to hide it underneath her long bangs, even though it made her look constantly disgruntled. But when she was offered a position in Commander Brian's department, she was forced to cut it off to appear more professional. In hindsight, a mask would have benefited her better than her hair ever could. It was too late now.

"It's none of your business." She said before shoulder checking the officer to reach for the pot.

"Lord, ok, whatever." The officer backed off, giving his friends a sideways glance and a shrug.

"You don't have to act like you've above us just because you have it in with the Commander." Another chimed in.

Ira was accustomed to being teased, it wasn't uncommon during her years in the academy. She had a facial scar that drew unwanted attention wherever she went. Of course, she expected the teasing and bullying to stop when she first joined the bureau, but apparently she set her expectations too high.

"I don't owe you guys anything." She said, addressing the one who called her out.
They all raised an eyebrow at her as she left the room with a fresh cup.

"God, she needs to take that stick out of her ass."

A sigh escaped her lips as the faint sound of gossip disappeared with every step she took. Ira craned her neck to look back at the entrance of the break room. Maybe she should apologize for her behavior, after all, blaming her cranky attitude on her sleep deprivation wasn't a stretch. Most people she knew working late nights wouldn't be up for small talk, much like herself. As she strode over to the door, she stopped almost immediately upon hearing the topic of their conversation.