In a worried tone, she asked, "What happened, Mr. Arrow?" stepping towards me. Her eyes seemed to survey the whole scene. I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to regain some self-control; for deep inside, my blood was boiling."This...maniac has summoned me,"I said, pointing my finger with an air of accusation at the shaking man in indignation. Instead of treating me with the respect and care I deserved, this man was spouting rubbish. His wounds cut deep into my soul. I could feel my anger boiling over at the rekindled memory of his insults, and I fought to keep my feelings under control. "Calm down, Mr. Arrow. Explain it to us," another man said from the crowd in a gentle and soothing tone while stepping toward us. "You're still angry," he stated. At that moment, the doctor arrived through steamrolling the crowd with forbidding, autocratic expression etched all over him. "What in heaven's name is going on here!" he said firmly and in a commanding tone. How--oooohhh, I felt relief at h
ARROW’S POV "Yes, doctor," I said, and enthused was I to enter the room. Such calm soothing: the drone of air conditioning, a soft hiss of papers across the desk awaiting great news. "As I sat, Dr. Smith glanced up, his eyes sparkling and warm, inviting me to sit down before his desk. "Lovely news for you, Mr.-Arrow," he said, the rapt smile radiating with enthusiasm, as I settled into the chair. My heart racing with anticipation, and I fought to calm my breathing as I waited for the doctor to go on. "Oh, I cant wait to hear this, doctor; what is it?" My voice was charged with excitement; my heart raced as I waited. Enthusiasm was evident in my voice, and my heart was racing in expectation. "Your wife is responding so well," Dr. Smith said, full of beautiful optimism as he leaned comfortably back on his chair. The words reached my ears like music-the music of hope. A huge burden lifted from my shoulders as I could finally release the breath I had been holding. The heavines
I woke with a jerk, body raising with tremendous force as I came to the stark realization that it was already morning-the next day-a new day; a day with a fresh batch of worries, new tides of anxiety washing over me like a cold dark wave. An unwelcome slant of sunlight flashed through the window, hitting me hard, forcing me to squint, while the dull throbbing ache crashed down upon my head like a sledgehammer. "Kalmia! Jemima!" I screamed, my voice a loud urgent sound bouncing off the walls, but not a breath seemed to be heard-just that awful, wrenching silence that tore through empty walls as if I were shouting into a vacuum. And memories snapped into view; how they were at the hospital the night before? My heart sank, my stomach twisted with worry, a knife turning in my gut. Stood up, forcing it with all my will, the body weary, the muscles stiff from tiredness, the grittiness in my eyes from sleeplessness. It was like crawling out from the depth of a dark, bottomless pit. I mad
Frozen in shock, I stood there, while Jemima's words hung over the scene like a challenge waiting to be answered. "Kalmia is missing," she finally said; her voice was soft and hesitant, the voice of a woman afraid of being criticized. I felt a shock of panic, as though some being had punched me in the solar plexus, and I managed, "How? Who took her?" But in my mind there was such a noise of thought, like a flash of lightning trying to assemble a jigsaw from the previous night. Jemima, gazing into the pit, stated, "I don't know. I woke up this morning and she was gone. But I heard a shout during the night, I just didn't know it was her.” The words hung on her lips, laced with deliberation, like a person trying to explain something very complex. Fists clenched, I walked with that furious anger, trying to stifle a storm inside me toward the doctor's office. Smoke filled my mind about my missing daughter and now my missing wife. "My daughter was the first; now it is my wife," I said,
When I got out of the vehicle and stepped onto the aged asphalt surface of the old warehouse, my vision started to hunt the environment, like the one searching for treasure hidden. Like someone hiding their true intentions, the dim light thrown long shadows on the ground. I walked cautiously, footsteps echoing on the walls, like a person trying not to wake somebody up. I looked around the room, taking in everything from dusty crates to rusty machinery, like someone pulling pieces together, probably to fit a puzzle. And then, I saw Kalmia. As if that treasure had finally been found. She was bound to a chair, arms tied behind her back-like a captive. The face was pale and drawn, almost like that of someone exhausted by a long journey. From her looks, one could tell she was real-well, well, extremely-tired, like one who has spent all energy reserves. Her eyes looked sunken, gaunt, like someone peering into the darkness, and her skin was dry and cracked, like a person suffering from deh
When I returned from outside, I found Jemima sitting on the couch with concerned yet relieved eyes. Tension emanated from her body, so much that it resembled a person gripping something fragile, but somehow that tension transformed into a strength that has withstood all trials. Stealthily, I walked to her, almost as if walking not to awake a sleeping child. "It's all right, my love," I said soothingly, as if to a frightened beast. "This will be all right." I wanted to comfort her but the very doubt glittering in her eyes held my claiming the truth at bay. "Let me make some soup," I decided, steering the focus away from her pain. "It helps to dull the ache." I knew that soup did really nothing, a mere comfort, but comfort is comfort. Jemima nodded, her answer just a whisper, "Okay." The very tone she used made it seem like even whispering required a struggle. Into the kitchen I went, my hands acting on their own accord, as though one were performing an exercise learned long ago.
Arrow and I stepped out of the house while Jemima remained inside, her slumber undisturbed. The sunlight poured warmth around us.Just as we were beginning to enjoy our quiet morning walk, a small pocket-rocket zoomed past with great enthusiasm. I was taken by surprise, seeing Dawn trotting towards us with lively little legs.I took advantage of a passing angle, and there in the distance was another man waving us goodbye. Surprise, curiosity, and mild worry poured within me. Who was that man, and why was Dawn with him?With dawn approaching, I was caught by her bright smile and her sparkling eyes. "Mommy, Mommy!" was the excited call by her tiny voice, holding a biscuit in her hand, and neatly dressed hair was proof that somebody else took care of the child.It was amazing to realize how well taken care of my little girl was and how happy she appeared. A mixed wave of emotion - relief and thankfulness but also with a strong element of intense love- cresting in my heart, and when I loo
KALMIA’S POV The face of Jemima lit up as if carrying all the lights from heaven, her eyes sparkling as diamonds beneath the sun, showing what looked like the brightest love towards Dawn-an undiluted, pure love, strong and unwavering. All her being radiated warm happiness as if that even the presence of Dawn had ignited that kind of burning fire inside her being. She hastened to open her arms and attempted to wrap them around Dawn in that warm, close embrace, as if the girl would not let her ever go anymore. A sweet sound escaped as her lips brushed against Dawn's face and followed it with soft kisses before whispering sweet nothings in her ear. The very voice was so soothing like music with a sweet gentle melody that seemed to got into Dawn's soul. Jemima's hands stroked Dawn's face, tracing the beautiful contour lines of her cheeks, her nose, and finally her lips, as though memorizing every detail and feature of the expression. "My darling, how are you doing?" asked Jemima, her v
KALMIA’S POV A figure came towards me and I remained frozen in surprise. The individual moved toward me and in a quiet mysterious voice said "I have something to say Visha." I saw them and adjusted my gaze while narrowing my eyes to figure out their identity. I replied carefully saying "Alright then proceed." "Are you really Visha?" I asked, my tone laced with skepticism. They chuckled softly while their eyes glowed with amusement. With confidence etched in their voice they said "I'm not." The phrase 'I'm here to help you' contained profound meaning despite its simple structure. They spun around and departed leaving me frozen in complete silence. I felt a wave of curiosity and wonder crash over me as they disappeared into the distance. I questioned what help this mysterious person wanted to offer me. My mind spun with questions about the stranger yet they vanished after I could think nothing through leaving behind just an arrow. I stood completely still as my eyes fixated on the a
KALMIA’S POV Cold air spouted out of the rooming house. As Arrow and I stepped out of the building, I looked up upon him with a smile. "I'm glad we're in this together," I said in a mask of whispered tones. Arrow smiled back, his eyes crinkling into the corners of his face. "Me too," he replied. "We'll get through this, Kalmia. Together.” Later in the day, or rather a few hours after that, we were escorted to a safe house on the outskirts, a small building without any distinguishable traits that would catch a passer-by's attention. The official introduced the security detail assigned to us, a crack team of agents working to protect us twenty-four-seven. As we made our way and began settling inside the safe house, the unease kept hovering upstairs. There was, indeed, an inscrutable potentiality of freedom in confining oneself to a little room with complete strangers. But I had to accept it for now. Arrow seemed to have sensed my unease and wrapped his arm about me, pulling me clos
KALMIA’S POV Another big breath was drawn, as if in an attempt to calm this furious storm of emotions stirring in me. The pain of betrayal was still fresh in my mind; yet I needed to think beyond it and outside for those few hesitant souls and a few things that meant anything to me. My gaze rested on the little baby and an overwhelming love and gratitude-for-the-pain-filled-the-heart.-Having-everything, she was the only reason for me, and I had to keep her safe by all means. My mind began questioning the motive of my sister-The thought of what could have driven her into such desperation kept gnawing at me: did she have her own battles to fight and her own miseries, or was it just jealousy and spite? I would never know now, and maybe it does not matter anymore, for what matters is that I have been wronged and I need to find some way to make it right. I knew it was going to be a hard thing to do; it would require all the courage I had within me to rise above it, but I knew I wanted t
KALMIA’S POV "Aha, indeed, I will say it because I was the one who put your so-called planned career into action after it brought you down," she spat, maliciously. Visha's eyes flashed with defiance and she sneered at me. The fury surged, and my hands clenched into tight fists. But Visha wasn't done yet. "I framed everything up," she continued in a rising level of triumph tracing her voice. "I turned Jemima against you and shouted toward me, throwing her eyes like the evil beacon on top. It was like getting hit in the gut; breath taken out. "No, oooo," I screamed, throat raw and voice trembling with emotion. "Nothing could separate the things about it. Then out into the air came the loudest cry I made. Tears were rolling down in continuance because each stroke of the event hit down hard at that instant. I couldn't bear the sharpness of pain and betrayal. I couldn't take the sound of another angry word flown in my direction again, as Visha had cut me too deep. I felt as if I was losi
KALMIA’S POV Her words seemed to slice through the air like a knife, and her voice dripped with venom voicing all her discontent. "I never liked you, Kalmia," she said, looking at me with flashing eyes of fury and disdain. There was this sensation of hurt, surprise mixed with confusion as I furrowed my brows to understand the depth of her emotions. "What do you mean?" I queried in a whipser, scanning her countenance for signs of weakness. The bitterness on that face twisted into a smile that shone malignant hues in her eyes. "So you said I hurt you, and I'm apologizing now, this?" My voice had incredulity and frustration laced into it. How could she even think that I would accept that as compensation for all the damage she had done? Memories of past confrontations and betrayals rushed into my consciousness, replete with a sudden surge of fury and spite against her. Visha was a semblance of what one could have guessed-trapped deeply in her emotions, longing and thirsting for an uni
KALMIA’S POV I wait outside the cell, anxiously glancing at Mr. Isah with a pleading face while panting in anticipation, tinged with a bit of nervousness. "I'm looking forward to seeing my lost sister, Visha," I say, voice almost inaudible, spilling from my mouth like a confession. Mr. Isah inclined his head in deep understanding; his very look was sympathetic, and turned to lead me through the station, his long strides chewing up the distance into nothingness. Strong cold fluorescent light above the hub flickered and hummed, casting a glaring light on those forms. A heavy, cloying scent of disinfectant hovered in the stagnant air, mixed with a cursed faint tang of despair. My footsteps echoed down the walls as I walked with Mr. Isah into the depths of the station. When we arrived at the cell, Mr. Isah grasped the handle and pushed it open in a slow creak before stepping inside, leaving a dim light casting long shadows across the little room. "Visha", I called, my voice so sweet, l
MR ISAH’S POV I sat at the station in the dark. The soft fluorescent light above cast an eerie glow on the empty chairs and faded floor. Anticipation held my heart in its place, echoing like the drumbeat in my chest throughout my entire being. "Just wai for me, sir," I mumbled to myself with eyes turned toward the phone, where a text from Kalmia said: "I'm on my way", flashing on the screen like a light at the end of a tunnel. "Okay then," I said to myself, slumping back in the chair, a wave of relief washing through my being with the straightening of my spine on the worn-out issue. Time moved forward, and in this losing dusky space, each second was a drag for eternity. I checked my watch what would seem like a million times but felt like the hundredth. My eyes scanned the entire empty station that was growing more impatient with each passing second. The silence clamped down hard, occasionally punctuated with the creaks in the old building and traffic buzzing outside. I shifted in
MR ISAH’S POV Between walls of thickest warm air, bound by oppressive scents of sweat mingled with fear, I could hardly draw breath, and every breath that I drew seemed to carry some foreign weight crushing into my chest. Visha sat all hunched over in the wooden bench; shoulders barely perceptibly shook; her eyes looked down, refusing to meet mine, locked in mute insubordination to the unasked questions between us. A stubborn silence, thick and impenetrable, stretched between us and with every passing moment added that still very coiled tension within me. "Visha, I'm not answering any of your questions," she finally whispered, so softly it was hard to hear, like a thin thread in an oppressive hush. Although soft, the words smote me with the force of a corporeal blow, burning up the sparks of fury that had been at hand ever so low. "Then okay," I replied in said low, almost dangerous tone, "you are going to do that pen now." It was just a matter-of-fact statement, in the air of an
MR ISAH’S POV The officer was swift in his movements as he quickly went to handcuff himself and brought out the cold, cruel metal that condemned even the eye of authority under fluorescent light. He moved with practiced ease as he snapped the iron restraints for the inevitable fate into place around Visha's wrists, the cliched sound like that of a prison door shutting. A clang like that of metal sounded ominously echoed around the cell. "No, ooooo," she screamed, her voice raising up in a desperate crescendo, trying to free herself from the steel cage. With her contorted body, she twisted and thrashed to no avail, digging deep the cruel bite of the cuffs into her skin. That metal sparkled like it was catching the light with a sinister radiance, almost seeming to taunt her with the cold, unyielding grip of reality. Her wrists seemed to have strained against the bindings, tendons standing out clearly as she struggled. As she fought against the handcuffs and began gasping more and mor