rrraksamam

I stared at her picture on my phone. A sharp pain surged deep within my heart and I closed my eyes, breathing in, holding it, and slowly releasing a sigh. It was hard to let go. The only person in my life in a while. And now she had to go. She had to be set free.

She was free. I had never held her back. But my heart... my poor sodding heart, needy and clingy as always... The distance between us had grown tremendously; the space between us filled up with all the words we didn't say to each other, or rather, the words I had not said to her. She had never been much of a talker.

I opened my eyes and looked at her for one last time. Then pressed delete.

I looked up and blinked, staring into the distance, as I felt the tears brimming up at the corners of my eyes. Emotional. I had always been emotional. She knew it would hurt me – to exit my life the way she'd chosen to. I had been vocal about everything that I felt. She hadn't. Did she miss me? Would she? Probably not.

I didn't blame her. I blamed myself. I was a fool who didn't respect boundaries. I had no limits. She had wanted a friend. And I, a lover. She wanted to take things slow, and see where it would end up. I, already had a destination in mind. And my journey, was a Ford GT on an F1 track.

When I loved, I went in all the way, nothing held back, nothing left unsaid. It was too much for her. She couldn't handle me. She needed space, and quiet. I needed her.

But now I didn't have her. I didn't have anyone.

People are so cautious when meeting others, dating and falling in love. I wasn't. I didn't want to be. Love, for me, had no room for personal reservations.

And now I had an important lesson to learn; a lesson on pain. The first tear dropped, followed closely by the next, forming a warm stream down my cold cheek. I wanted to cry out loud, but I couldn't. The wave of emotions choked me.

We lived in a world where people were expendable. We lived in a world where love wasn't as important as sex. People got together based on sexual compatibility, and they fell apart due to sexual incompatibility. Love? People didn't need love if they could just have sex. I couldn't be that way.

I stared at the glass in front of me, lost in my thoughts. The chatter of the strangers in the background kept me company. “You haven't touched your drink,” the bartender commented, as she casually made someone a drink. She was blonde. With sparkling blue eyes, and an easy smile. “I don't drink,” I said softly. “Can I get you something else?” she asked. “No,” I shook my head, “I'm fine, thanks.” She gave me a long look, then went back to work.

I didn't want to be alone. I'd walked down a couple of blocks. It was freezing cold outside, and so I decided to walk into the bar, and sit there for a while. Laughter echoed throughout the room. A group of young men sitting behind me, probably had too many drinks. Loud, young, cheerful and obnoxious. I remained unfazed, staring at the glass.

What was the purpose of life? So many people passed away everyday. Has any of them found meaning in their lives? A sense of purpose? Did they know where they were heading? The world was in a rat race. Millions of people rushing to work each morning, crammed up in trains and buses, crowding the streets with traffic. Did they have any meaning in their lives, other than mere survival? Money. That's all that mattered. Everybody wanted money. But even those that had millions and billions, were still engaged in the rat race. Elon Musk was still sleeping in his factory, and his Twitter office. Even with all that money, his life didn't appear to be peaceful. At least not to me. But who was I to know? I couldn't read his mind. Perhaps he found peace in the rat race. Some people were addicted to work, and stressful environments. They couldn't sit still without doing anything. They needed to be active, all the time. What kind of life was that? I couldn't understand. Perhaps I was too stupid.

Did anyone really have everything they wanted in life? Or were we all in a state of perpetual dissatisfaction? Sometimes it seemed like no matter how much we had, it was never enough. We wanted more, and more, and more. Then we died. And everything we spent our lives accumulating was passed off to someone else. Did anyone take the time to enjoy and cherish the fruits of their labor? Or were we all stressed about the next thing we wanted?

I turned and looked around the room. Did any of these people have such thoughts? Would they understand what I was thinking about?

Everything was more painful in the winter. Bumps, bruises, cuts, falls, previous injuries – it all hurt more. The cold amplified the pain. I had learned this lesson the hard way, just like every other lesson.

It slowed my training down to a crawl. I was more careful now than when I was younger. On some days, I only did simple workouts in my small living space, occasionally standing by the window, looking outside, thinking, planning and waiting. I did a lot of waiting in the winters. It also gave my body an opportunity to rest and relax.

While everyone pushed hard and carried on with their work, I conserved my energy. I never knew what surprises would present themselves when I was least expecting them. But I had to be prepared. And one aspect of preparation, was enough rest with no injuries.

My computer beeped to indicate a notification. I glanced at the screen. Tag coordinates. I opened the maps application and typed away.

There was only so much one could do in a tiny apartment in the winter. But as much as I loved going outside, I found myself spending more time by myself indoors. It felt like prison without any guards, or violent criminals. Although there were criminals in the outside world. We just hadn't crossed paths yet.

I must've thought too soon. Because just then a shrill scream filled the air. I locked the screen and tiptoed to the door, peeking through the peephole. Nobody. I put my ear against the door and listened, my breath slowing down. Nothing.

Had I imagined it? No. Surely I had not. I'd slept relatively well, despite the mental anguish from the past.

I unlocked the door, and twisted the handle, slowly, opening it just a tad bit. A chilly breeze hit me in the face. Damn! Was it cold! My hand instinctively reached into my pants, making sure my knife was still there. It was.

There were four apartments adjacent to one another, sharing a tiny hallway at the center and a rather large staircase that connected all the floors. No elevators. I stepped outside the door and stood in silence, listening. The scream must've come from one of the three neighbors. But who? All the three doors remained closed. Were they home? Had they heard the scream as well? It was hard to miss. Unless they were deaf. Were they watching from their peepholes too? Suddenly, I felt very exposed, and vulnerable. As I stepped back inside, my visual periphery caught someone at the top of the stairs. I shut the door, my heart racing. Deep breaths. Stay calm, I told myself.

Who was it? It must have been someone on the floor above us. There's no way I could've missed someone walking up. So I wasn't the only one who'd heard it. A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door. I peeped through the hole. A woman appeared in sight, her eyes focused on the peephole. She knew I'd check first. Was she the screamer? Highly unlikely. She appeared rather calm.

I opened the door. “Yes?”

She'd reached for her gun as soon as she heard the scream. This was the third time this month. Jessica tiptoed down the staircase and peered at the floor below, concealing herself from obvious view.

She watched intently as the door on the right opened, and a man came into view. So he'd heard it too.

This was the man who's file had been sitting on her desk for some time now. He looked quite young, almost boyish. She watched him listening for sounds, gazing at the door in front of him, contemplating. What was he thinking? His right hand appeared to hover close to his pocket. No doubt a weapon of some sort. He stood there motionless, his eyes shifting from one door to the next, then suddenly, he retreated, and shut his door.

Had he sensed her presence? She wondered. She decided it was time to meet this man, and get acquainted. Pocketing her pistol in her coat, she walked down the stairs and knocked on his door. A moment later, the door opened, and she found herself staring at the face of the man whom she'd heard so much about. “Yes?” He asked.

“Hi!” she smiled, “I'm Jessica. I live upstairs.” He nodded, “Please, come in.”

A quick glance across his apartment amazed her. He'd set up just like she had. The laptop almost in the same identical position, the bed too, and the chairs. “Have a seat,” he gestured.

“I suppose you're wondering where the scream came from?” she asked. Straight to the point. “Was that you?” he asked, doubtful. “No,” she shook her head, “but I've heard it before. Several times in fact.” “I think it came from the apartment opposite mine. Though I can't be sure,” he said. She leaned forward and stared into his eyes, “Roy, there's no one else in this building.”

He folded his arms and returned her gaze, “How do you know my name?” If he was spooked, he certainly didn't show it. “I have your file,” she confessed, “I work for the agency too.” “Nobody told me anything about you,” he replied. “That's because I don't exist. I'm not here. Just like you, aren't really here.” “Yet here we are,” he said. “Yes.” “Who gave you my file?” She sighed, “I can't tell you that.” “Does Mother know you're here?” he asked. She nodded. “Did she give you my file?” She shook her head. “Okay.”

We sat in silence. This was a lot to take in. At the moment, it seemed like Mother had intentionally left out a number of details during the briefing. Either that, or she was being kept in the dark regarding a lot of operational details. It wasn't a good sign.

I chose to refrain asking my new guest any further questions. If she wanted to spill, she'd do it on her own accord. “Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea?” I asked. “I'm fine. Thanks,” she declined politely. I shrugged and sat down.

I sat at the computer and stared at the screen. Here I was, looking for a vacation, a small break from the hustle and bustle of life. Mother had kindly made the arrangement, although it came with a job and some conditions. The job was done. I'd just finished unpacking and setting things up in the apartment, and here I was, wondering if I'd been duped with a bad bargain.

“What are you thinking about?” Jessica asked. I looked at her. She had dark brown hair and almond shaped hazel eyes. If I were to guess, she was about my height, maybe an inch or two shorter. No doubt athletic, and carrying. She hadn't taken off her coat. Was she here to do me? Was I a loose end? Was the scream a distraction?

Mother hadn't told me there'd be familiar company in the building. And she had explicitly told me there were no files; no records. Only some standard logs to track all the events. Was she lying to me? Had she lied all along?

“Roy? Are you okay?” Jessica asked. I closed my eyes and sighed, “If this is a prank, it's a very bad one.” “It's not a prank,” she replied.

We stared at each other. “Are you here to hurt me?” I asked. She shook her head, “No.” She looked sincere. I believed her. “Okay,” I nodded, “There's a gun in your coat. Don't reach for it. No sudden movements. I want you to tell me everything. From the start. Don't leave out any details. Don't lie to me. And don't joke. Understood?” “Yes.”

Jessica was 42. Married once. No kids. Her hobbies? Singing, cooking, yoga, gymnastics, hiking, martial arts and snowboarding.

She'd been living there for almost an year now. The building, as he could have guessed it, was haunted. A woman had been murdered in the apartment opposite his. Nobody lived in the building longer than a month tops. The agency got whiff of the rumors of the haunted building and saw an opportunity. This was now the base of tagging operations and radar systems, as well as a layover for those who needed discretion. Or a vacation.

Several people had been enticed by the “sit-on-your-ass-all-day-and-do-nothing” opportunity. As soon as they heard the screams, everyone wanted out.

She was lonely. And she needed a break. Yet there was no one to hand over the reigns to. But she'd heard stories about some guy who'd been out of the business for a while, and he'd come with a lot of recommendations, specifically from those who'd seen him at work. She pulled some strings, made some requests, and here he was.

And now, all she could do is pray and hope that he stayed. Because if he left, then she'd be out of options.

We sat in silence. Her pleading eyes looking into mine. For some strange reason, I felt sorry for her. But I also felt a little angry – angry that I'd been tricked into this spot. Mother hadn't mentioned a word about any of this. And I thought I would finally get a vacation I so much deserved. Only to end up with this, here.

“Roy, will you stay?” Jessica asked. I shook my head, “No.” “Please?” “What makes you think I'd want to live next to a screaming ghost?” I asked her. “I don't want you to live here. Move in with me,” she replied. “What about the other apartments?” I asked. “Two of them serve as storage units. The one above hers is empty. I don't think you'd want to stay in it.” “And the floor above that?” “It's filled with servers,” she replied. “Why didn't you move there? The farther away from the ghost, the better,” I suggested. “I already considered that Roy. When I came here, they'd already put the servers there. Besides, nobody would've come to help move them down. The locals won't even enter the compound. And mother denied requests to send in manpower. Told me her hands were full and she didn't have anyone to spare,” Jessica replied.

“Why haven't you asked for a transfer?” I wondered. “I did. It was denied.” “So your only option is to quit?” “I can't. I'm stuck here Roy,” she said sadly. “What about the others who came here? Weren't they transferred somewhere else?” She shook her head, “Only the first few.” “What happened to the others?” “They were fired.” I was absolutely dumbfounded. “Fired?” “Yes. Let's just say that this is the last stop for people's careers, Roy. Those who end up here don't have anywhere else to go after that.” “Oh.” And that was all I managed to say.

So I'd finally hit rock bottom. A shit job with nowhere to go. And I thought it was a vacation! I shook my head. But why would Mother put me here? Had she no faith in my capabilities? Had my talents and abilities finally been replaced by someone younger? It was bound to happen some day anyway. I wished I had seen this coming. If I was to get out, I'd leave on my own terms. Because this – this was embarrassing.

As if she'd read my thoughts, Jessica reassured me, “Not you Roy. I asked for you to come here. You can leave anytime you want. The agency still has uses for you.” Uses. That's how the world had always operated. Things went smoothly as long as you were useful to someone. After that, you were on your own.

I closed my eyes. Decisions. Decisions. “Can I stay at a hotel or something?” I thought out loud. “Then I'd be here all alone,” Jessica replied, sadly. “Can't you stay at a hotel?” I asked her. “No,” she shook her head. “Alright,” I said. “Alright?” “I'll stay.” “With me?” she asked, hopeful. “Yeah. Will you help me pack?” “Yes!” She stood up and grabbed my hands, “Thank you Roy! I owe you one.” I shook my head, “You don't want to owe me anything.”

He was awfully quiet. She'd expected him to warm up to her after breaking the ice like Eva had suggested. But he hadn't.

He stood by the window for hours, occasionally checking his laptop notifications, then he was back at the window again, deep in thought. In the end, she'd brought him a chair to sit on, by the window, which he'd politely declined. He seemed to be on edge. He seemed to be thinking about something. Or planning. But what? She desperately wanted to know.

He helped her make dinner, and set the table. And as they sat down for the meal, he'd casually reached out for her hand and said grace – something no one had done with her since she'd left her family. He ate quietly, his eyes on his plate the entire meal. “Roy, are you always quiet like this? Or do you not like me?” she'd finally managed to ask. He looked into her eyes, and said softly, “Jess, I'm going to need to look at that file.” “Why?” “Because I'm afraid that you may have mixed me up with someone else.” He grabbed his glass and took a sip, then continued, “I left a message for Mother, asking about you. She hasn't replied yet.”

“Perhaps she's busy,” she suggested. “No,” he shook his head, “She's not.” “What makes you say that?” she asked. “Because I think you officially just became someone's job.”

She stared at him with her mouth open, as her brain frantically tried to register what she'd just heard. Did he just mention job?! She was someone's job? “Roy, are you going to hurt me?” she asked, her voice faltering. “No,” he shook his head calmly, “I'm going to protect you.” “So you're saying I've been set up? By who?” He stared into her eyes, “I don't know. But whoever wants you out may or may not be aware that I'm here. Now I'm going to need to look at that file. And you're going to tell me everything you know about whoever sent you that file.” “Are you sure you're not just overreacting to this whole situation? You haven't rested a bit. Perhaps you need to lay down.”

He cracked a smile, “Do you know how many jobbers have been taken out in this business?” “Quite a few I suppose.” He nodded in agreement, “And do you know what they all had in common?” “What?” “They never saw it coming. The only way you stay alive in this line of work, is by being paranoid and proactive. You lose focus for one moment – you get comfortable, and someone will put you in a bag.”

There was something about his guy that made Jessica believe him. It was his eyes. They seemed so sad, yet sincere. If he said he was going to protect her, then she trusted that he would. The question was, did he know what she was capable of? Sure, she may not have done any field jobs, but she'd popped more shells than anyone she knew. That and her love for martial arts and fitness made her feel confident that she could take care of herself.

But what she couldn't deny was that on paper, the man sitting in front of her was a miracle. If he'd accomplished even half of what Eva had told her, then he was the right person for this situation. He didn't look dangerous. He looked... meek, and quite naive. There was a certain aura of innocence about him, that she couldn't help but like him, more than she was willing to admit.

So she gave him the file. She never thought she'd do that. But they were past that stage now. As he flipped through the pages, he smiled and shook his head several times. It was the details. Eva had done a pretty good job of describing him, and everything he liked, and how she should treat him. “This isn't an official file, is it?” He asked when he was done. “No,” Jessica shook her head. “Let me guess, you got this from someone I've worked with before.” “Yes.” “So who is it?” “Will you promise me you won't hurt her?” she asked. “I won't hurt her.” “You promise?” “Yeah. I promise.” “Her name's Eva. She told me she's a secretary. But I guess that part was a lie.” Of course it was! Now that she thought about it, she couldn't help but feel foolish for missing something so obvious! How could a mere secretary know so much about a field agent?

“Eva,” he smiled, “That's a good one.” “Do you know her?” Jessica asked. “Yeah,” he leaned forward and said softly, “Eva isn't a secretary. She's a jobber. She used to be work Mother's security detail. That's where we met.” “Were you two together?” she asked, then immediately regretted it. Whether they'd been together or not was none of her business, but she couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of jealousy erupting inside her. “No,” he shook his head, “We worked together, if that's what you mean. But we weren't a couple. She has a boyfriend, or had, last time I checked.” “She's single now,” Jessica said. “Oh!” “When did you last speak to her?” “It's been a while. A few years I think. Why?” “No reason,” she replied. She wanted to tell him Eva would be coming soon. In fact, she was on her way. But first, she needed to know more.

“Is she coming?” He asked. Damnit! “How did you know?” she asked, genuinely surprised. “This must be her retirement package. One last job before she sails into the sunset.” Jessica was confused, “I don't understand.” “Give it time. You will.”