Knife and Letters
The urgent knocking on my door woke my up from my deep slumber. I was still tired from yesterday’s travel, so I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes vigorously in circles. I walked to the bathroom to at least gargle before I faced whoever was at the door. I’m sure they could wait for three minutes. I’m still so tired. It’s just past nine o’clock in the morning.
However, the moment I opened the door to a police officer all dressed in his blue uniform, all traces of sleep were gone. I didn’t know what to feel. To my recollection, I didn’t do anything to warrant a visit from the police. In my own home, nevertheless.
“Good morning, I’m Officer Ricks.” I stood up straight at the police’s commanding voice. He is a tall, muscular man, with a bald head.
“Good morning, officer. Is there something wrong?” I said, my eyebrows furrowed. I was leaning to the doorknob for support, my head the peeking from behind the door.
I suddenly felt embarrassed about hiding behind a door, it may be offensive to the police who nicely greeted me. So, I slowly opened the door wider, while sporting a sheepish smile. I have no idea on what to do. This visit is so random.
He might have sensed the nerves rolling off my body, so the officer smiled a little.
“I’m just looking for someone you might know. I reckon that he lives here.” Officer Ricks said politely.
I looked at him in what I think was a startled gaze. Could it be Ace he’s looking for? Why?
I continued to deny that possibility. I was still not sure. He must have gotten the wrong apartment. Like the blonde girl yesterday.
“I’m living alone, Officer. Who was it that you were looking for?” I said in a hard tone which I’m glad I managed to do. It calmed my nerves, in a sense, and felt as if I regained a little bit of control over it. Even if there’s a nagging suspicion at the back of my head.
I’ve already encountered too many strangers since Ace had left me.
“I’m sure he lives here. His name is Ace Abelardi.” He said, seriously.
I felt as if my heart got caught up in my throat upon hearing his name. Ace. What did you do?
“Well..” I replied slowly, my voice cracking at the pressure and uncertainty I’m currently feeling. I cleared my throat and looked down at my hands, which I held together to stop them from shaking. “I haven’t seen him for about a week now.”
“Is that so?” The police eyed me in disappointment. His voice getting softer. “If he does come home, can I trust you to turn him over to the police?” He added, looking straight into my eyes.
“O-of course.” I said stuttering.
“Good day Miss.” Officer Ricks said. He gave me a nod and turned towards the police car parked across the street.
I watched the car stroll away. I deeply sighed. I shrugged my suspicions away, not wanting to entertain thoughts about Ace that would paint his character in a different light. Why would the police look for you, Ace?
Is that why he left? I almost relished at the idea. And I felt bad because of it. Would I rather he be wanted by the police, for that to be the reason of him leaving me? I can’t even say or think about the implications of why he’s being pursued.
I felt slightly squeamish at my train of thought. I closed the door with my shaking hands.
Why can’t I just accept that he left because of me?
I was knackered yesterday, so I didn’t even bother to unpack my bags. I made that my mission today, and I should probably clean my apartment. All the surfaces have accumulated a week’s worth of dust.
I went back to the bedroom to unpack. I opened my suitcase, my clothes slightly springing out.
I transferred them to the closet – the closet I shared with Ace.
I was a little terrified to open the closet for fear that I might see all of his clothes gone, that he might have come home while I was away to collect all of it. And all hope of him coming back to me would be shattered.
So, I felt a tiny glint of hope blossom inside me when I saw that some of his clothes are still inside.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply as I felt myself tearing up. I pathetically sobbed with a relieved smile, and wiped my tears as I continued to stuff my clothes inside the closet.
Sure, some of his clothes were gone now, and I noted that he must have took with him one traveling bag. However, I can’t help but be thankful that he hadn’t left me, completely.
I sniffed and sobbed quietly when I finished unpacking. I was sitting on the floor, my back propped against the bed.
I lowered my head on my bent knees as I continued to calm myself.
With this tiny hope that he might come back, I wanted to remember how he said he would love me forever. I missed hearing his voice.
I remembered the letters that he wrote for me when we were still dating. He was romantic that way.
I wanted so desperately to remember that I was once loved by him, that all of the grief I’m feeling about this loss is valid. So, with my both my shoulders and hands shaking from the onslaught of emotions, I opened the bottom drawer of the bedside table. In there is my collection of all the letters he wrote for me.
I tied my hair, which were now wet from my tears, into a ponytail. Finally calming down, I grabbed the letter at the top of the pile. It is the latest letter he has given me. He gave this to me just last month, on our anniversary.
It was in a square cream envelope. Inside was a light green scented vellum board folded into two. I gasped at his beautiful handwriting, the scent of the paper wafting through the air – triggering the memories I desperately wanted to relive.
Anything to fill this gaping hole inside of me.
I momentarily shut my eyes at the endearment, feeling as if I’m going to cry again. And I did. But I need to do this. I feel so alone. I need to find that feeling again that only Ace could give.
’You are so beautiful. I found the perfect spot at the Eco-park I was talking to you about the other night. No one goes here as this spot is fairly hidden, but I wanted to write this letter. So, I searched for a bench that is unoccupied. I'll take you here someday.
'Happy Anniversary! I know some people think we were moving too fast. I moved into your apartment just about four months into our relationship. I love you, and I will keep reminding you of that everyday.
'There is a big tree beside the bench I’m sitting at, and I engraved our initials on the trunk. Like a giddy schoolboy who has a secret crush. What can I say? You make me crazy. I can’t wait to see you later. I’ll stop here. I love you. I’m going home now. To you.'
Sobbing deeply and catching my breath, I hugged the paper into my chest. I looked up, silently asking what reason he had for doing this to me. I was completely blindsided. We were okay. What happened?
Is it because of what I asked of him? Or is it something else I don’t know about?
I didn’t even know what I preferred the reason would be.
I released a deep sigh. “Ace.” I said his name experimentally, my voice cracked. It still hurts as much, if not more.
Begging myself to calm down, I grabbed all the letters from the drawer. I checked if anything was left inside before I tried to shut it close. However, with what I saw that was left inside, my breath stilled for a moment and my eyebrows scrunched in confusion.
My tears stopped flowing, hearing my thoughts screech due to the deafening silence around me.
When I realized what the object was, I froze.
It was a knife. No, I think it is a dagger. I picked it up carefully with unsteady hands. The round and fancy golden handle glinted in the morning sun. I cringed at the swoosh of the metal cover, which matched the golden handle, as I removed it from covering the metal blade. The blade, as revealed, was a shiny double-edged short metal piece with a tapered point. It has markings engraved to the blade consisting of symbols I couldn’t understand.
My thoughts came into a halt, the love letters scattered on the floor, already forgotten. Clearly, it was the first time that I have seen this dagger. There would be only one possible person who owned this.
I was adamant on not judging him even if some might say it was kind of obvious already. I keep denying the possibilities of him being a completely different person from what he showed me, or from what I made him to be. However, what little I knew about him was not enough evidence to keep my terrible thoughts at bay.
A police officer was looking for him! What am I supposed to think?
I was helplessly searching my brain for a possible explanation. So much has been happening now. There is so much that I have only just discovered, and my frazzled brain cannot keep up with the questions that keeps popping up at the back of my head.
Why was a police officer looking for Ace when nobody ever looked for him before?
Who was the blonde girl yesterday? Was she looking for Ace, too?
My heart never pumped this hard in my life. I am not ready for this revelation.