Less Than Seven

Chapter 1 - So It Goes

THE CASE WAS CLOSED.

BUT IT'S NOT, REALLY.

Imagine, my brother has been shot by an unloved, stupid, asshole, shitty stranger that has gone after the crime. There were no fucking CCTV in that area that's why even the cops can't start a stupid investigation.

Now, I am here applying to this publication office.

I want to give people a piece of news.
A real and not a modified one.

It may be risky, but I also seek for justice. It's for my brother and for the family of course. I am a recent graduate of Broadcast Communication at the International University of Southeast Asia. Not to be boastful but I never got a grade below uno. And also...

"Stop right there. Yeah, you're good especially your grades and your background in journalism. You're now accepted. Welcome to our company, the Prevalent Paramount Arrowhead Publication." The admission officer said.

"Thank you, Madam. I will do good and I will be productive at all times" I replied with an excited voice.

After I got accepted to that mysterious publication office as one of their lucky four new writers, I immediately called my mom to inform her about this.

She was happy.

I just can't feel if it's genuine. She was telling me every day to apply in another publication office. Of course, I refused that command of her because here, I'm going to do something worthy though quite risky. Not quite, it is really risky to the point that I might get killed. I might get killed by the same hands. I wish it won't happen.

I don't want to die.

Not yet. Maybe soon, but not yet. Oh, please God!

By the way, right away.

You didn't know my name. I feel like I need to tell you my name and some basic shits about me. Oh, I am Joven. In order for you to know my real and full name, just hang in there because I'm about to bring you in a place full of darkness. Help me carry the torch and see behind the incognito. I'm about to bring something from the dead. I'll be having this red pen of mine to correct what was wrong and what is wrong. I just want to say that, Ice cream is my favorite food of all time. Nonsense. Isn't it? For me, it makes sense nevertheless. Ice cream melts, just like time. It is also naturally and mechanically and chemically and physically cold, just like my brother's body in that bloody night. Ice cream is also commonly sweet by its flavors, just like how sweet and caring my brother was to our family before.

I forgot to tell you. I am now in this stupid, boring, and cheap coffee shop. I ordered a cappuccino to drink while reading this book in my front right now. The title of this book is "Forget Me Not". This book happened to be a horror storybook but I fear nothing at all.

"Excuse me. Can I sit here?"

[My mind was like, Oh, girl, yes you can, but you may not. Can't you see I'm trying to be alone here? Oh, gosh. I think you can find your own place.]

"Oh, sure" I replied.

This stranger in front of me is now sitting and also reading on the same table. She's got fair skin. She doesn't look so young, not old either. I like her fingernails. It looks so clean, quite pinkish, healthy. She looks just fine. She dressed nicely. She looks smart, but I bet I'm smarter than her.

She suddenly paused her reading moment and looked right through my face. I guess she has caught me staring at her.

"Uhm, sorry. I didn't mean to sta-" I wasn't able to say what I was saying.