Unseen Strings

Chapter 1

We yearned to break free from the confines of our hometown, Donner's Nest. Laci, with her insatiable social appetite, sought growth beyond our limited horizons, while I longed for a different kind of escape. The allure of Emerald Bay, a vibrant college town miles away, and its prestigious Stanford-Fremont University beckoned us. With a student population of 75,000, Laci and I were eager to immerse ourselves in this new world. To fulfill her parents' wishes, we decided to live near her older brother, JJ. His residence, however, was a stark contrast to the modern buildings that surrounded it. A dilapidated eight-story structure with a faded yellow exterior, it offered a glimpse into a bygone era. Hesitant to inquire directly, Laci opted for a more subtle approach, leading us to discover our own two-bedroom apartment on the sixth floor. Despite its modest charm, the apartment offered a unique vantage point of the bustling town below. We easily overlooked the worn wooden floors, faded wallpaper, outdated appliances, and cramped layout. As time passed, however, so did the connection we once shared. Laci, an extrovert thriving in the social scene, drifted further from my introverted nature, content within the confines of our shared apartment.

Once, I was a vibrant girl too, full of life and hope...but from the age of sixteen, I found myself the object of an anonymous admirer. Letters, gifts, and poems arrived regularly, casting a long shadow over my thoughts. Though I could not see him, his presence was a constant, an unseen force that shaped my reality. For a time, his attention was unwavering. Every other week, a gift, a letter, or some token of his affection would arrive. Yet, as time passed, the frequency of these gestures dwindled. The longest period of silence, six months, had just ended, and I clung to the hope that this absence marked a definitive end to his pursuit. Deep down, however, a part of me remained uncertain. He had disappeared before, only to return. His return was usually signalled by some grand gesture, usually unwanted.

As my mind pondered these facts, I started up at the cracked plaster on my bedroom ceiling. Two years in Emerald Bay had passed, yet my life remained confined to my room, my college, and my apartment. Laci often invited me to join her and her friends at concerts, clubs, and parties, but I usually declined. I could count the number of times I had gone on one hand.

The sun shone in the window across from my bed, and I forced myself out of the covers. As I walked to the bathroom and turned the light on, I couldn't help but look upon myself. I was newly 20 years old, and yet I seemed much younger. My brunette hair was down to my waist, my eyes were dark like the earth, I had a body that curved like an S, and my skin was light, with a slight tinge of color. Although these were considered attractive by many, I was hesitant to embrace my potential. Self-consciousness, fueled by the persistent attention of a male admirer, had taken root. Since turning 18, the individual had made it clear that he desired more than friendship from me. His advances, though unwanted, had made me hyper aware of my own vulnerability.

Laci explained that this was a phenomenon known as "escalation." It described a gradual increase in behavior, fueled by growing confidence. She was both excited and apprehensive about our move to college, eager to experience new things with me but also fearful that the escalating situation could worsen. While she worried about a more severe outcome, four years passed without any significant incident. I received occasional letters and gifts, and a few shadowy figures glimpsed at my window were the extent of the disturbances. She was often out, but always called or texted to ensure I was safe, and as she put it, alive.

Laci had been happy with me in our apartment, she was happy to be free of her parents, and for a time, free of her brother. As I washed my face, the memory of our first day in the apartment came to my mind,

"That's the last box," Laci called as she dropped a light box onto the ground. The door stood ajar behind her.

"Hey!" JJ called, pushing the door open.

Laci shrieked.

"The fuck you yelling for?" He spoke nonchalantly.

Laci just averted her eyes.

"Look, I know mom and dad sent you here because they want you to be close to me or whatever because your girls or whatever, but listen here," he put his hands on his hips, "I work and I don't have time to be a damn babysitter."

Laci just shook her head, his eyes cut to me.

"Yes yes! I understand." I shook my head at him. JJ seemed like a mad bull, or a rabid dog half the time, and I was not seeking his fury.

"Don't cause trouble," he wagged his finger at us as he took his leave.

He slammed the door and we jumped as the sound reverberated through the tiny rooms.

We peered at each other, and waited a full three minutes before we burst into laughter. We were elated to be on our own, in our own place.

As I dried my face, I couldn't help but reflect on the past two years. JJ had been an elusive figure, a ghost in our apartment. Despite the wishes of their parents for them to maintain a cordial relationship, mostly of JJ watching over us, JJ and Laci had established a subtle, unspoken boundary between themselves. JJ's infrequent visits were brief, and his presence was often fleeting. The proximity of my room to the front door allowed me to catch glimpses of those who entered. His key, a familiar clunking sound as it turned in the lock, signaled his arrival. When my door was open, his eyes would meet mine, but he never spoke. He would sometimes nod, but nothing more. His eyes were like a vast ocean, or the night sky, filled with thought and life, unbothered by Laci or I.

Frustrated with my thoughts, I shook my head and pulled my hair back, determined to focus on the day ahead. Rushing out, I skipped knocking on Laci's door, knowing she wouldn't respond. Our connection had dwindled, and our academic paths had diverged. While I pursued a career in nursing, she was exploring the world of graphic design. I froze before I left, looking back at my room and seeing my window a bit open. The urge to close the window was strong, but a sense of peace washed over me. My old problem had been dormant for so long that it seemed harmless to leave the window open.