Evey Summer Has a Story

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jack Yev was a happy soul who loved the little things in life. The way the sun streamed into the window, the leaves falling and changing colors, the way Delilah wore her hair when she was happy, just the little things. His dark curly hair bounced as he walked, and his blue eyes darted around as he walked through the office room. As he reached the elevator door, he pressed the glowing down button. Jack smiled as he remembered he was making dinner for Delilah tonight and he couldn't wait to get started. He loved to cook, as he went to culinary classes on the weekends. The doors backed away from each other and let Jack on. As he rode the elevator he fiddled with his watch; it was a habit picked up in seminars to help keep him focused. Jack stepped off the platform and walked though the company doors, frowning at the grey mass of clouds in the dim sky.

He wanted to get home as quickly as possible, but he couldn't seem to get ahold of Delilah. He texted her, called her, emailed her, even trying to FaceTime her, but he didn't get any response. He tried on last time for a call but Jack didn't get an answer. It was only a ten minute walk, and Jack was a fit man, so he decided to walk to the company. Although the meeting for the speed limit was still going on, the street was bursting with life. Couples walked arm in arm, mimes impersonated people going about their life, singers strummed guitars, soccer balls flew and people played, life was good for them. Bakery's open doors and yummy smells wafted though the streets as the street lamps cast golden life on the grey buildings. Street vendors sold t shirts, snacks, water, and one even sold flowers. He picked up a single white blossom and went to pay for it.

"No. Flower yours for smile." The old merchant said, English still choppy. His hair was neat, black and straightly cut. His skin was weathered and tanned, no doubt from years in the sun. His eyes smiled in themselves, as his soul was an old one, and it hadn't gotten bitter with age.

"Thank you sir." Jack said, smiling warmly. People like these kinds made Jack strive to be a better person. The old man smiled brightly and he hurriedly hobbled away to cut bouquets of roses. The smile on Jack's unknowing face stayed with him through the brisk walk, even when it began to rain lightly. He walked up to the company and entered, walking down the hall to Delilah's office. Jake knocked, and waited. Knocked, an waited. Soon Jenny Knotts shuffled past Jack in the hallway.

"She's not here. She left three hours ago." She said, opening her own office door. Jenny was a good friend of Delilah's.

"Oh.. Do you have any ideas about where she went?" Jack asked, sighing. He wanted to find Delilah soon. He was uneasy about the whole thing, and when she went missing, it wasn't good. She had a history of depression and attempted suicides. Jack never understood why she was that way, but he just tried to help her anyway he could.

"No.. She didn't say anything." Jenny said from somewhere inside her office. Now Jack was really scared. Last time she tried, she disappeared off the face of the Earth for a week.

"Okay thank you." He said, walking a little faster now. Jack tried another time to call Delilah, but her inbox was full, so he couldn't leave a message. So, when his phone rang, he was relived. However, it wasn't Delilah. He answered it anyways.

"Jack Yev, Senior Editor, how may I help you?" He said, thinking it was a work call.

"Yes. This is the coast guard. Do you know a woman by the name of 'Delilah Longton'?" The man's voice asked, as Jack began to panic.

"Yes. Absolutely." Jack answered, sitting on the outside steps of the building. The concrete steps matched the grey sky. The man sighed into the phone and continued, hating this part.

"I am very sorry to inform you that Delilah Longton appeared to commit suicide this evening by jumping off the foot traffic bridge on the Tiber. I am guessing you are her boyfriend." The voice said. That's all it was. A voice. A voice with no body, no belonging, miles away, sound waves carried by a signal, a meaningless gurgle, a string of vowels and consonants put together. A voice that had to be lying. She couldn't be dead, could she? This had to be a mistake. Delilah couldn't couldn't really be dead, she just couldn't.