“Pause.”
The tall Asian man directed his assistant. He was wearing all black-uniformed with the dim room.
“There she is.”
He moved the mouse zooming the photograph. An image of a teenager, around 17-year displayed on the computer monitor screen. She was wearing a young desperate face coupled with her frizzy long black thin hair reaching the butt of her jeans. She was surrounded by the gloom of the night. Three heavy baggage were also pictured out beside her.
“Poor little girl,” his assistant commented.
“Perhaps, no longer a little girl. She’s so fresh.” The man grinned.
“Finally after years of looking,” he added.
“Go inform the old man.”
He turned towards his assistant.
***
The night was getting heavy; the crescent moon was slowly losing its sheen. Jasmine sat beside her baggage for hours with weary eyes but alert pained chest. He eyed the busy street from the distance.
Hoping that hope may arrive, she hummed inside.
Dr. Austin Lazure forgot to count the hours he’d traveled. He drove from the narrow dead road towards the buzzing street lifelessly. Only the screeching wheels provided him direction as his mind was crowded with tiresomeness. He made a U-turn, and from the distance saw a girl sitting alone in front of a grandeur house apartment. He flashed a sigh before wearing the black face mask. He hide the Glock-45 on his tucked-in pants and hid some bullets in his pocket. Before going out, he scrutinized his appearance in the side mirror.
Now I’m an image of a criminal— a serial killer, he thought. Then, deliberately screech the tires fa ew meters from Jasmine. He killed the engine. Yet, something was bothering him. It felt like somebody was on watch on him for the whole ride. He shook his head erasing his dark thoughts.
Jasmine seemed to count every passing vehicle on the street— until she went tired. She was about to move up when she heard a rough voice.
“Don’t look around,” it said.
But, by the time the man knocked on her, she was tired and helpless. She regarded that maybe it was the way the above shown her mercy— finish her life for she was soaked in tediousness. She statued looking in the opposite direction neither moving nor following the man’s order— she was merely immobilized by the pricked on the ’s desperate weariness.
Austin on the other hand was surprised hearing his voice. He flashed a smile beneath the face mask realizing he sounded like a movie action star, but his narcissistic thoughts were interrupted seeing Jasmine intensely glued on the ground. He drew a smile again, complimenting himself inside.

It worked. I should be thanking Zandra after this, he thought over his brimmed smile. Jasmine continued looking dread. She could sense the rough glowered of the man owning the voice. It felt like it was giving her the sympathy— the sympathy for her to forget what she forged to forget.
Perfunctorily, the fast-moving vehicles from the gleaming street speeded up in her eyes reaching on a hazy speed. She felt the desire to puke— but— without the performing strength. While Austin was feeling the weight of the Glock in his hand smiling sheepishly like it was his first time holding an original gun.
Bang!
Austin’s adrenaline responded just in time pushing his face to the ground. Time stopped when he laid his eyes on her, lying flat on the ground.
“Not now,” he spoke to himself.
He inserted three bullets on his Glock and looked over the area. The coast was clear, but it felt like some stiff eyes were on watch on them. He traveled his eyes. He hadn’t realized immediately, but he was feeling a sudden shut off a soldier’s blood than a doctor’s blood. He desired on finding the origin of the shot. Yet, it was cosplay. Nobody was moved by the sudden bang. Each continued doing their businesses nothing had ever happened.
He wouldn’t let any minutes pass; he moved towards her. As a doctor, he wouldn’t go looking for the spot of a gunshot. He grabbed her wrist, and checked for her pulse rate— it was at a normal speed. He held her face which made him see a soft face of a teen in a peaceful slumber. In an eye, he assumed that she was unharmed.
The stares from the unknown direction disrupted the blood flow in his veins. It caused him anxiety. He taught of nothing. With his masculine force, he lifted the lightweight of Jasmine while carrying the three baggage on his shoulder and hand, and as fast as he could, he sprinted towards his car.
He sat her on the passenger’s seat and drove across his way zigzagging other vehicles on the wide prolific city street. From tiredness, he arose. The adrenaline awoke his weary nerves.
***
Life is a desert of isolation, she thought for a second. Sometimes we speculated that it’s an oasis, but not. Each one of us experienced immense abandonment. When we reckoned that we unify with the entirety, we’ll realize that we were secluded in the depth of the populace.
Jasmine released a heavy sigh when a series of thoughts flooded her pale notions. They were currents of waters from the merging tremendous oceans that created a huge wave heading towards her cerebrum. She gently rested her head on the passenger seat cradling the exhaustion in her head, like a boatman who tried controlling his boat in the battle of dark heavy storms in the vast seas of thoughts.
Several moments she wished on escaping; several moments she arose from the soft cottony mattress carrying the trunk of doubts in the head. Her flesh chose to ignore, but her mind was unstoppable on asking— a lion craving for his prey in the lost jungle bed.
The questions which were left unanswered haunted her everyday sleep. It felt like every page of her life was making her heart bountied with qualms.
The surrounding was void of darkness. She wouldn’t need to cover her eyes as the entire region was blanketed with a solemn gloom. For a moment, it made her head relaxed— and relived her flesh from any quiver. She wouldn’t think of anything at this moment. She was aware she shouldn’t— allowed time passed ‘til she felt being mothered.
Her eyes painted a picture of darkness. Her mind arose weakly when the icy breeze blurted out from the fresh air conditioner. She realized she was on a ride— but how? The thought must be responded to once she was fully awake. The air hugged her light pale body cloaked in a thick black cotton jacket.
She enveloped an embrace to herself feeling her tightness as the frosty warmth of the air conditioner maneuvered inside her nostrils. She could feel the chills exploring down towards her respiratory cells. She felt a weak pang on her ribs which she assumed that probably the air wedded the gases exchange negotiating in the alveoli of her lungs mingled with the stretching and contraction of the diaphragm. She felt like one of the Eskimos living in Northern Canada whom she likely read on storybooks back in her kid days, due to the air’s frostiness.