13th August 2023, 20:32 PM.
LarksVille, Boston, USA.
On a rainy night in Boston, the city was cloaked in a thick veil of darkness, with clouds hanging low like a sinister omen. The usual bustling crowds swelled due to the relentless thunderstorm, creating an unexpected traffic nightmare that seemed endless. Cars idled for what felt like an eternity, occupants growing increasingly impatient as they awaited the elusive green light that would free them from this watery prison.
Amid the cacophony of aggravated drivers and honking horns, vehicles held a diverse array of passengers—ordinary citizens, grim-faced government sentinels determined to reach their assigned duties, and weary truck drivers whose faces were etched with fatigue. The downpour had cast a spell over the city, disrupting the rhythm of life and holding its inhabitants hostage within a sea of vehicles and frustration.
Inside a massive transport truck, the driver's grumbling voice blended with the faint hum of traffic. "Damned rain," he muttered, casting an exasperated glance at the digital clock on the dashboard. He had already spent more than two hours in this traffic nightmare. Missed calls from his worried family fueled his impatience, and the need to reach home had become an unbearable weight. It was twelve past eight on the clock by now.
Meanwhile, a young girl in her grey and black striped school uniform walked aimlessly along the soaked streets, raindrops pelting her like a relentless assault from the heavens. Drenched from head to toe, her hair plastered to her face and her clothes clinging to her skin, she moved through the torrents as though impervious to the elements.
Her steps were slow and deliberate, akin to a haunting waltz with the storm. She paid no mind to the sea of umbrellas and the throngs of people brushing past her, as though she were a mere specter. She passed the big building to her right that once was her favourite shopping mall. She didn't even take a glance today.
Usually, she came to this building with her father, who once bought her as many dresses as she wanted. She was happy at that time. But today, she was not.
The backpack on her shoulders was drenched too. Her favourite teddy keychain hung in there. The logo on the backpack showed she was a student at Preston University.
FLASHBACK:
8:30 AM.
Olivia prepared for college, tying her hair into a high ponytail and slipping into her Preston Junior tag. In the mirror, her reflection stared back at her, eyes adorned with dark, heavy smudges—a testament to the countless nights she'd spent in restless solitude.
Her fingers moved with deliberate care as she applied concealer, an attempt to hide the telltale signs of her exhaustion. The act itself was a struggle, a silent cry for help. She looked at herself for one last time with lifeless eyes and sighed. How had her once-happy life turned upside down? Why did she have to go through this? Was this what life was meant to be?
She despised her life in this moment, and all because of one name: The Falcon Group.
She had been perfectly content in her little life, so why was she bothered? There was no answer.
After a protracted preparation, she left her room with a quiet determination, yet a profound sadness lingered beneath her facade.
"Olivia?" Her older sister's voice called from the adjoining room, presenting a red and black dress for consideration. "What do you think, should I wear this for tonight, or this?" She held the dresses aloft, her eyes filled with anticipation. "Or should we match our outfits for tonight? After all, it's your birthday today!"
Olivia met her with an empty stare, the weight of her silence more powerful than any words she could muster. Strangely, this year, her birthday failed to spark the excitement it once did. Her sister's optimism swiftly transformed into bewilderment as Olivia retreated, leaving her suspended in the palpable sense of desolation.
****
The car came to a halt in front of the University.
Olivia's apprehension was palpable as she glanced towards the school gate. The entrance buzzed with clusters of students, their laughter and chatter echoing through the air. However, there was no spark of excitement within her. In truth, she wanted to escape, to flee as far as possible from this very place.
But she knew she couldn't.
Maybe she could, but she had no energy left. Tears threatened to come out, but she bit them back. She couldn't cry right here, not in front of her dad. She loved him too much to let him see how broken she was right now.
With a final sigh, she quickly climbed down from the car, slowly taking her steps towards the school, wearing that same impenetrable expression.
All she could think about was: Will today make any difference?
"Goodbye, sweetheart!" Her father's voice echoed from the car. She turned to steal a fleeting look at him before striding away.
It was a departure from her usual self. Olivia had always been a cheerful child, and her current demeanour puzzled her father. Nonetheless, he managed a hopeful smile, believing that perhaps after the day's festivities, Olivia's radiant spirit would rekindle.
****
A sudden blare of a horn snapped her out of her reverie, yet the same unreadable expression clung to her face. It was a mask, hiding the turmoil beneath.
A compassionate old pedestrian noticed her and extended her hand to offer refuge, her voice filled with concern and genuine care. "Oh, dear Lord, you are utterly drenched by this relentless downpour. What on earth compels a young girl like you to be out on this torrid night? You must find shelter immediately. Here, please take my umbrella if you don't have one of your own."
But Olivia seemed impervious to her goodwill, as though an impenetrable veil separated her from the world around. She continued her march through the rain, her footsteps echoing with a disconcerting detachment from the reality that surrounded her. The world moved around her, and yet, she moved in isolation, as if tethered to an unseen realm of her own.
Eventually, she reached the edge of the crowded sidewalk. Her gaze fixed on the traffic light ahead, blinking down the countdown numbers until they reached zero. She had no emotion, no trepidation, no thoughts as she watched the light change to red.
As the fifth and final lot of traffic was finally granted passage, the wary truck driver exhaled a heavy sigh of relief. The gridlock had cost him more than two hours of work, and the prospect of returning home to his family provided some consolation. He must hurry now; otherwise, he would be utterly late for the dinner in his home. After all, he got special news this morning and was dying to see his wife and their new baby who was announced just today. With a sudden and unexpected turn to the city shortcut, just as he planned, he sought to rejoin the flow of traffic, but his world unravelled in an instant.
A girl, as if guided by some unseen force, came to a sudden and eerie standstill in the middle of the road just as the massive truck bore down upon her. The driver's reflexes were slower than his racing heart, and he slammed on the brakes with all his might. Tires screeched in protest, but it was an exercise in futility. The horrifying sound of the inevitable collision ripped through the rainy night.
The girl's lifeless form lay sprawled on the rain-soaked asphalt, grotesquely twisted, with blood pooling around her like a gruesome halo. Her vacant eyes stared into the infinite abyss, oblivious to the clamour erupting around her.
Sirens wailed in the distance, adding to the chaotic blend of distant cries and the cacophony of car horns. The truck driver's face contorted with a volatile mix of fear and guilt as he peered down at the lifeless figure beneath his monstrous vehicle. His trembling hands clutched the steering wheel, as though seeking a lifeline amid the nightmarish scene that had unfolded.
A frantic passerby dialled 911, and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles began to pierce the heavy rain. Police officers arrived on the scene, and the area was carefully cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape.
Olivia Reed, a Preston student, ended up dead in an accident or perhaps a suicide.
The truck driver was subjected to questioning regarding the tragic incident, but the young girl's life had already slipped away, her consciousness forever silenced by the cruel hand of fate. Amid the chaos and confusion, a folded note half-protruded from her pocket, dampened by the relentless rain.
Maybe it was a clue to decipher the enigma of her life and death. Perhaps it was a somber warning, an omen of the darkness yet to unfold.
One thing was certain—this rainy night in Boston marked only the beginning.