Well yawned as soon as he arrived at the doorway of the hotel. The people inside looked at him with disgust as if he was some kind of rubbish picked up from a rubbish bin– because to be clearly honest, that was how he indeed looked like. Meanwhile, Well was so tired and so exhausted he barely heard a word vividly from his old man’s old friend. Instead of answering to her or catering to her concerns regarding him, Well walked over and ignored Doreen. He was not in the mood for some small talks. And despite everything that he and Allen Mar and Detective Deib Anchorman had been through in even less than a night, a simple ‘how are you’ will never better anything. As a matter of fact, Well believed it only made the situation worse. The detective was dead. Allen Mar, his best friend, lost contact with him. So basically, it was now just him wandering over the New Bill City and facing the chaos or whatever there were again all by himself– like in the very beginning where there was absolutely
Well sluggishly walked to the elevator, and elevated himself to the floor where his hotel room was located. At this point, everything was annoying him. Everything was keeping him from being the good old Well that he was. He knew it was not because of the lack of sleep, or of the exhausting running away for their lives. What annoyed him was the death of a dear friend. Detective Deib Anchorman was just so precious to be taken away so early. Well believed he could have survived it, too. Just like what he and Allen Mar did. However, if there was a hard pill to swallow for Well, it was the fact that the death of the detective was the result of his foolishness and lack of observance. If only he looked around and had chosen a different spot to hide on, the detective would not have to do it anymore. However, it is what it is and he will forever be hunted of it. There were crystalized beads of tears falling off his sleepy eyes and damp eyelids. But who was he to give a fuck? He did not care i
Well missed what it felt like to have a sleep so long and so comfortable and so worthwhile that he did not have to worry about what could happen around because he would not give a fuck anyways for what was important was he had a good sleep. He definitely missed that feeling. If only there was a way he could have returned to that time and savor it once again, he definitely would. But that was impossible now. Considering the events that took place. The things that were lost during only a night or two. And the memories that fell down. It was far too impossible now. He had to deal with whatever mess this was that he involved himself with. With his head buried into the pillow, Well thought of another impossible thing. Him and Detective Deib Anchorman– talking. In his clouded imagination, this was what happened: Well woke up from a knock on the door of his hotel room. He brushed his eyes– they were still sore and sleepy. He unwrapped himself from the bed sheet, yawned and stretched his
If there was a hard pill to swallow for Well, it was the fact that the death of the detective was the result of his foolishness and lack of observance. If only he looked around and had chosen a different spot to hide on, the detective would not have to do it anymore. However, it is what it is and he will forever be hunted of it. There were crystalized beads of tears falling off his sleepy eyes and damp eyelids. But who was he to give a fuck? He did not care if people would see him crying while walking down the hallway. He did not care if his neighbors mock for being such a crybaby. After all, only God knows what else could he do when his temper finally go up and his patience was being measured. He witnessed innocent inmates being detained. He witnessed good people being jailed. He witnessed a selfless man being shot to death. There was nothing else that could go wrong other than those mere things he witnessed with his own eyes all in just one night– all in just one place. As soon a
It was already nine o’clock in the morning when Well arrived in the school. As he stepped into the vicinity of the entrance gate, a gust of wind brushed the back of his neck. It felt as if the world whispered behind him, trying to entail something like a message. But he knew it was not a message. With his steady face and uninterrupted eyes, Well made it past the guard’s outpost. When he stood before the tallest building of the school, the Administration building, he suddenly paused for a while and looked at it with greatest contemplation. A part of him believed it was not yet the time for him to enter the class. He needed to heal. Losing Detective Deib Anchorman was tragically painful, and no amount of antidotes would be able to make him move on from that pain in just a day or two. But then again, another part of him told him that maybe Allen Mar was there. Maybe he can help him hide the pain. Or at the very least, forget about it. But to Well, seeing Allen Mar inside one of the c
When his cell phone beeped, Well quickly panicked and slid his lock screen open. He would then go straight into his inbox to check on the message that had been sent to him by an unknown number. By the looks of it alone, Well could already tell that it was the message he had been waiting for from the medical assistant who assisted and accompanied Allen Mar on his way to the hospital. As he opened the inbox, he read the very first message that appeared on top of the list. He stared at it like it was his greatest enemy. And then three seconds after, he stood up from his seat, wore his backpack behind him, and then dashed out and away of the hallway. He did not care if there were students swarming toward him. He just ran through them. He did not care if just like bees, they buzzed with different topics that were surely related to them. He just pretended he was deaf. He did not care if their eyes were all drawn to the mere existence of him. He just pretended that he was blind. No amount o
“Are you trying to say that his act of tying you to that particular tree is only for a show? That both of you had an agreement about what should happen so that Detective Deib Anchorman can easily infiltrate the City Reserves and bring me to where Allen Mar is?” Well suspected. Meanwhile, Binsent Anchorman was amazed about how fast Well was able to form the entire puzzle. It should have been a difficult one to puzzle up. “Exactly, yes. I am also the reason why my twin brother was able to identify all the secret doors– including the tunnel where you passed through.” The taxicab driver started the engine again. “I bet we can still talk while driving? Because if I got it right, you are in a hurry, aren’t you?” the taxicab driver snorted. “Yeah, right. Please go on. And please make it faster to compensate to the delay that we had because of me,” Well answered in quite a bit shy manner. He rolled down the window on his side and then had himself a sniff of the fresh air of the mysterious a
As time passed by, after about fifteen minutes of being stuck inside of the car on the surface of the water, Binsent Anchorman decided it was now time for the both of them to get out of the car and perhaps swim their way back to the shore. But the problem they were going to take was that the shore was still two hundred meters away. Although swimming is not a problem for Well– because he grew up in a seaside town and he used to swim every afternoon with his best friend, Jh– he had never tried swimming as far as two-hundred distances. “I think the stalker has surrendered. We can now go out of the car safely and get back to the shore. We can still make it to the hospital and you can still see your friend, I believe.” The taxicab driver said as he flashed a look towards the window on his side to see if which way was a better route for exit. After a short assessment, he returned his gaze to Well. “Do you even know how to swim?” he asked, eyebrows are going against each other. “In case yo