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Thirty One
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2020-08-02 07:57:01Sebastian stands in front of what used to be Agent Hannah. Her charismatic presence now a swollen pale body with blue lips washed up by the side of a river.
Her eyes, now an empty vacuum, hollow to show the presence of her missing eye balls. Sebastian closes his eyes first, trying to evade the sight that lays in
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 The wind howls through the darkness, caressing the midnight silence which visits Bushkill on this pleasant August evening. Hazy rays of the moonlight shine through the atmosphere, casting a faint visual of what might be and what might not.The world is grave-silent and asleep except for the whistling and silent songs of gardens andmagnificent building illuminating only shady rays on the moist asphalt.A figure is seen walking fragilely from the end of the long road. It takes brittle steps, dragging one foot behind as it limps further. From a distance, its amber eyes are visible to sight but filled with only faintness.***Sophie has just changed into her nightdress. White lingerie that only covers the essential parts of her body. She heads to Christian's room, walking down the long corridor
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 There's nothing beautiful about hospitals. Not the glittering white tiles from brick to the floor, not the mixture of bright sight of blue and fish tanks or even the flowers set equally outside and in.Christian knows this. Michael knows this. The Browns know this. It is not their first time being here. It is not the first time they walked into a hospital waiting room with their fingers in their mouths and conflicting thoughts jumbling their minds till they totally forget about the fragrance of an expensive hospital with the little antagonizing medical stench.Christian stands by the transparent glass, almost like he is standing too close to the television screen watching a series his mom must have told him a thousand times not to see but this time, it isn't a TV series. It is real this time and even with the fright choked up in him, he also feels the tingling excitement cur
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Twelve years past since the Browns lost their daughter. Twelve years since she was snatched by men inside a black SUV. Unregistered, fake plate number and totally untraceable but it was not until the sixth year since the Browns stopped to mourn. It was not until the police had told them, upon their money and fame, upon the whole county's interest, it was above their power and as much as they would like to have faith, it was aimless to point at any direction.All private investigators had turned down the case on the first ring and now here they are.Here they are again all over the news and flashes of light capturing their house in its troubling bliss."Why now?" Michael says out loud to nobody. He is alone. He is sitting on the neatly made desk at the centre of his office where there is a swivelling chair behind it and a beautifully designed shelf coate
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Sebastian's life a few days ago has been normal and as happy as it can get. He had just celebrated Hope's birthday with his wife and a cake. Their daughter had laughed and played with her father almost all night till she was too tired to even giggle. Every happy moment comes to an abrupt stop. Sebastian knows that. He has learnt to accept it and although the weight sometimes weighs on him, he knows the world is a shitty place with a lot of shitty people.Now, Sebastian is seated in the sitting room of a two-bedroom flat. The television has today's news on it and while the woman goes on and on, skipping scenes that not only features the Browns but also himself, he is lost in the oblivion of thoughts. His eyes are fixed on the woman and his ears are open enough to hear every word she speaks but just as the vision in front of him is fuzzy and unworthy of his attention, his ears automatically lock the voice out. Why the Browns? Why return her after
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The Browns have lived in peace. At least they have lived in peace away from the crows that now stands outside their home flashing their cameras on every moving thing, looking for a story. If peace is external quietness and clearly surviving through the next day with elegance and pleasing sights, then we can say the Browns had done a great job for a while.Not anymore!Not with reporters clustered around the house. Cameramen flashing their lights and taking videos. Buses parked outside the big mansion and not even the television set can be turned on without news of the Browns popping up.Radio stations all have their eyes on the house, newspapers and magazines.Is Laurel Brown still the same?Brown former princess returns.Sebastia
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It is the most comfortable office in the precinct. To be realistic, it is the only office. The rest are just desks filled with piles of papers and files. Sometimes, empty mugs. On a few are desktop computers looking like the first-generation computer and are just about the same on the inside.The office Sebastian now sits in is not his. It is the Chief's and as their discussion has gone on for almost forever, with the Chief replaying everything Sebastian narrates to him and then a call from outside interrupts and again, they start from the beginning.Sebastian is slowly gaining more confidence and reassuring strength, at least, he wishes he is.The window makes half the office and the air conditioner makes about a little percentage, except it is no longer functional.What remains as a tangible part of the office is the swirling ce
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“What? I am getting dropped from the case?” Sebastian presses his lips on a hard line. The words escaping the chief’s mouth feels like a razor piercing through tender tissues of Sebastian’s heart living him drenched in a pool of his own blood. Except there is no blood or any razor, just the vengeance of a hurt double officer.
