Chapter 1
The atmosphere is one so warm and friendly, a place perfect for people to come and relax and socialize the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the air. I’m sitting in this nice and cozy coffee shop just having a moment to myself, a moment to escape the madness and rush of life. But as I look up I notice this beautiful young lady with piercing blue eyes, the type you get lost in instantly.
Perfect blond hair shoulder length but besides her outward appearance I noticed sadness deep within her. A bitterness that no human being should feel in their lives. Time goes by and due to my curious nature I sit and try to unravel the mystery that had now been placed before me.
The whole time she sits there all alone with her coffee and then eventually gets up and leaves. I have articles and work to do but I just can’t get her out of my head. I’m supposed to be Jim Burton the famous investigative journalist but things have been slow lately.
Maybe, or Maybe I have just lost my knack or passion for the thing that now consumed my life, now lead me to this place where I sit drinking coffee patiently. Suddenly my phone rings, it’s my editor, doubting whether to answer I let it ring a few times before I eventually answering and to my amazement it’s about my latest story. Clearly he’s not impressed that I’ve been dodging him and my deadline.
I need to get it out. Two hours later I have completed a perfect yet intriguing article about this smuggling ring. I have been doing this so long that it’s become my second nature just to pour out boring facts onto paper so much that’s it’s just become repetition.
My phone rings again, it’s Jenny, the infamous ex, probably calling to nag my head off, one thing you should understand about Jenny is she’s the clingiest and overbearing person I have lived to know. We were together since my second year in University.
She was an accounting major. Don’t get me wrong, we had an amazing relationship, and, for a moment, she was the love of my life but like all real life stories it wasn’t meant to be and so we split.
Occasionally she calls to check up on me but in my own opinion it’s mainly to see if I’m seeing someone new. Finally, the twenty-two-minute conversation is over and my ears can now stop ringing. Maybe it’s not that bad but that’s just my opinion.
As I enter the office it feels like I’m entering a cage with hungry hyenas. Everybody is on the go and looking for stories. News makes these people’s lives turn. It’s all about putting your name on that one brilliant article.
I remember how I started as an intern and worked myself up to the place I am now in. Five years here and I have made it as one of the most successful journalists. As a young man I was so driven and motivated to make an impact on the world.
To have the one headline but eventually it all just became another headline and another story. I have considered resigning and doing something different but what can I do? This is what I’ve been doing for the last five years; it’s all I ever wanted to be. I reach my desk and greet all my colleagues. The guy sitting opposite me, I don’t even remember his name, is a sports fanatic. Anything ranging from football to baseball he knows and watches. The lady on my left has been into finance her whole life. I think that’s the one thing that bothers me, the way these people allow their work to consume them, but then again, so do I.
Walks to the editor’s office and knocks on the door
“Hi there Jeremy can I have a moment of your time?”
“Anything for you Jim”, he replies.
Jeremy has been the editor for twenty years.
News is in his blood, he’s a friend and my mentor.
I sit in the chair and in his office I see all the awards he had acquired in his career.
I remembered when those things mattered to me, now they are just empty meaningless objects.
“Jeremy I want to resign, I know its sudden but, I have been thinking about doing this for a while now.”
“I will work out the month until you find someone new to replace me.”
“Jim are you sure you want to do this? You are one of the best investigative journalists and you have a very successful career at this paper.
“I always considered you to be the next editor; you have always had that drive to go above and beyond to complete your assignments. I have noticed you were lacking lately but I thought it was just a minor slump you were in. I tell you what, take a month’s paid leave, go away to an island or something, spend some time with family or friends don’t make any hasty decisions.”
I sit there hearing the words but I’m lost in my own world. I end up agreeing to take the leave. He has a point. The day finally comes to an end, I’m on my way home and I still can’t get this lady out of my head from the coffee shop. She looked so lost.
I enter my apartment, a cozy little one-bedroom flat. It has all the basics I need on my desk. There are different criminal novels and books. The thrill those characters had in the stories. The hours I spent reading and investigating using them. The dozens of journalism awards I acquired over the years that just stands there collecting dust. A reminder of the excitement I had once found in my job, and there was the reason I became a journalist seems like a cliché, but clearly life is not some fairy tale. I tried writing stories on university. I had a knack for it but lost interest because it takes something special out of you to form a novel or so I thought. Maybe I had just made it seem like such a huge effort, or maybe I was afraid I’d actually be good at it, but the idea of writing from scratch is a real creative journey, it’s something I might consider pursuing later in my life.
I wake up every day hoping and praying for something new to begin. It’s like I have a set destiny that has yet to begin, like an adventure just made for me and this life is just a dream, an illusion, fabricated in my mind and eventually one day I will wake up, rise and that day, when I rise my real life will begin.
