The Midnight Promise.
1317 Words
“Hello?” Ashley called as she looked around frantically, squinting her eyes and trying her hardest if she could see anything.
“Hello? Anybody here?” she called again when she didn't get any response.
It's pitch black everywhere, the darkness enveloping her like a suffocating blanket. The air was frigid, causing her to shiver uncontrollably. With her arms hugging herself tightly, she tried to generate some warmth, but the cold seemed to seep into her bones.
Fear gripped her heart, paralyzing her body, rendering her unable to move.
Feeling a sense of desperation, Ashley mustered the courage to call out for the name that gives her comfort.
“Nike!” she cried, her voice echoing into the abyss.
But there was no response, only the sound of her voice reverberating back to her.
“Where the hell am I? Nike?” she called again, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
The silence that followed only served to intensify her growing anxiety. It was as if the stillness itself was taunting her, amplifying the fear that had taken hold of her. Her mind raced with questions, searching for answers in the void.
“What's going on?” she wondered aloud, with her voice barely above a whisper.
Suddenly, a brilliant light pierced through the darkness, causing her to instinctively shut her eyes. As the light subsided, a small door materialized before her. With cautious anticipation, she opened her eyes to find Nike standing there, a small smile gracing his lips.
“Nike?” she called out, great surprise with a hint of excitement and relief evident in her voice…at last she was no longer alone.
She took a step forward, ready to jump into his arms, but he raised his right hand, making her stop in her tracks.
“Nike, I…"
“Find him, Ashley,” he cut her short, his voice carrying a weight of urgency.
Confusion etched across Ashley's face as her brows furrowed.
“Find him? Who is he?” she questioned, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
“My murderer,” Nike responded, his words hanging heavily in the air.
Ashley stared at him in utmost confusion, she didn't seem to understand his words. Why is he talking about a murderer? Who was murdered? Isn't he standing in front of her?
“Promise me you'll find him, Ashley” his words pulled her out of her train of thoughts.
“Nike, you…"
“Promise me” he cut her off again. “Promise me you'll find him” And without waiting for her reply, he turned and retreated through the door, disappearing into the mysterious realm from whence he came.
“No, no, no, no” Ashley cried as she leaped forward, intending to grab him and stop him from leaving, but it was too late… He's already gone.
“No, don't go, Nike!” Ashley screamed, her voice filled with desperation and despair.
Instantly, her eyes snapped open, her body jolting upright. Beads of sweat trickling down her face, the evidence of the intense dream that had just consumed her.
As she took in her surroundings, she realized she was safe in her bed, the darkness replaced by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through her window.
The dream had felt so vivid, so real, that it took a moment for Ashley to fully comprehend that it had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Yet, the lingering emotions remained, tugging at her heartstrings and confirming her suspicion… Nike was murdered.
Her eyes fell on Monique, she rested her head on Ashley's bed, her hand tightly holding on to Ashley's. Ashley carefully withdrew her hand from Monique's grip, then climbed down and carefully pulled Monique onto the bed.
Her eyes located the wall clock, and she realized it's still somewhere around midnight.
She reached for Nike's photo sitting on her bedside table, then walked towards the window, leaned against the window frame and stared quietly at the photo for a brief moment before looking outside, into the darkness.
“Who did this to you, Nike?” she asked as if he's standing in front of her. “Why did they choose you?”
Her heart skipped in fear as she took a frightened step away from the window when she saw a suspicious silhouette, her eyes widened and her heartbeat accelerated.
Who is that? Could it be he's Nike's murderer? Have they found out I'm Nike's girlfriend, and have come to silent me too? Am I their next victim? — she couldn't help these frightening questions running wild in her mind.
She looked towards Monique, who's sleeping soundly, and concluded to let her continue with her sleep.
Ashley raced back to her bedside table, grabbed her cellphone, and quickly dialed inspector Kingsley's number. She tapped her feet impatiently as she waited for him to pick up.
“Miss Peters…"
“I'm not safe” she said into the phone immediately she heard inspector Kingsley's voice.
“You're not safe? Where are you?”
“At home” she cautiously walked towards the window, gulped and took a peek outside. “Someone is downstairs, right below my window, and I think he came for me”
“Huh?”
She jumped back and hidden behind the curtains, when she saw the silhouette turning towards her direction, her heart pounding against her chest and her breath became ragged.
“But officer West and I can't see anyone suspiciously lurking around your apartment”
“Someone is here, inspector, I'm not safe right now” she closed her eyes and gulped. “I don't want to die…" she paused and pushed her hair back. “... At least, I must bring Nike's murderer to justice before I die”
Her eyes welled up, and a lone tear rushed down her cheek when she said that.
“Listen to me, Miss Peterson, my men and I are currently watching your apartment and…" Inspector Kingsley trailed off, then sighed as if he's just realized something. “I guess I'm the suspicious person you're referring to, ma'am”
“What do you mean?”
“Look outside your window now, ma'am” he said.
Ashley nodded even though she knew he wouldn't see her, then took a cautious peek outside the window, and saw the silhouette waving a flashlight at her.
“Is that you, inspector?” she asked.
“Yes. That's me waving my flashlight at you” he replied. “I guessed the murderer might come for you, and hence, we're guiding your apartment”
“Oh” she heaved a sigh of relief immediately.
“I'm sorry if we scared you” he apologized.
“It's fine” she took a deep breath. “Nike's death is making me paranoid”
“Don't worry, we're here for you. You can have a good night sleep”
“Hm. Thank you, inspector” with that she hung up, and randomly tossed her phone on the floor.
She slid onto the cold, wooden floor, curled up into a ball, her knees pressed tightly against her chest, and her hands cradling her head. In this vulnerable position, she tried to find solace, to find a way to ease her pain.
In the midst of her despair, a flicker of determination sparked within her. Nike wouldn't want her to wallow in self-pity. He had always been her rock, her pillar of strength. He had supported her through every hardship and celebrated every triumph by her side. Now, it was her turn to honor his memory and seek justice for his untimely demise.
With a deep breath, Ashley wiped away her tears and picked herself up and walked over to her bed, then slid under the covers and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to take her.
Tomorrow will be another day of hope—she thought to herself.
- Writer
