He stood at the end of the hall outside his apartment door, idly browsing the small stack of junk mail and coupons from the mailbox he had picked up on his way inside. His keys hung from his belt loop, well within reach, but no attempt was made to reach for them. He stood for almost five minutes when the door into their wing opened. He heard footsteps pass the mailboxes, climb the short staircase, and stop behind him.
“Did I keep your waiting?”
He turned his head toward her and grinned at her obvious smirk. “Not at all. Just browsing the coupons.”
“You use that excuse every week.” She giggled.
Like clockwork, she always arrived home within a few minutes of him, but browsing the weekly coupons gave him a more tangible excuse to wait outside to greet her. Now, with his plan complete, he stepped over to the corner of the hall and stuffed the paper into the already-overflowing trashcan.
“I called in the pizza before I left work, so it should be here soon.” She fished her keys from her shoulder bag and unlocked the door beside his.
“Always thinking ahead,” he grinned.
She laughed, leaning against the doorframe. “I try. I’ll text you when it gets here.”
“Sounds good. See you in a few.” He offered a small wave.
She returned the gesture and then shut the door behind her.
He let out a deep breath and leaned against the wall between their two doors, his cheeks flushed with a smile painted across his face. Maybe tonight he would finally work up the nerve.
He had loved her for years.
The two lived next door to each other in an aging apartment complex in the small seaward town of Crestway. When the population wasn’t ebbing from the summer crowds, the Lighthouse Lofts held a fair amount of full-time residents within its tiny, poorly designed rooms. The only benefits were the relative cheapness of rent—and a simple two-minute walk to reach the seashore. Many rooms also offered prime viewing of Crestway’s famous lighthouse on the rocky cliffs south of town, and he would often find her leaning over the balcony to take in the view.
She never attempted to stand out, but to him, she was perfect. She was soft-spoken and kind, leading a simple life and following a set routine. She wore modest, comfortable clothing over her thin frame, and she always wore a silver ring with a purple starfish on her right ring finger. She had dark brown, shoulder-length hair, green eyes to get lost in, and a graceful, melodic voice that he found truly beautiful.
Compared to her, he felt he was terribly unimpressive. As an average-built young man, he knew there wasn’t much about him that would catch her eye. His chin-length, tan hair and his scruffy beard weren’t always perfectly kept, and he by no means wore designer clothes. Nevertheless, whenever he would stray to her eyes, he always noticed she would do the same, smiling back into the blue-green of his own.
Day after day, he would make up excuses to wait for her as they arrived home from their mundane desk jobs. The interactions were simple at first, but they budded into a strong, trusting friendship. Sometimes he invited her over for pizza and a movie, and sometimes she would invite him to a friendly walk down to the beach. When they concluded their time together, he would struggle with his thoughts, wondering if he should make his feelings known to her. But, predictably, the moment would pass before he could speak beyond their casual banter.
This night had been no different. Once the pizza had been eaten and a few episodes of an old television show had been watched, she yawned and got up to return to her apartment.
“Thanks again, Luis.” She stood in the doorway with a tired smile.
He looked at her, studying her half-silhouetted form in the light from the hallway. This was his moment; he could stand and take her hand. He could ask her to stay a moment longer. He could tell her and finally have her answer.
“Anytime.” He submitted. “See you tomorrow.”
However, that day, she did not come home.
He stood at his door for what seemed like hours, hoping she was simply running late. She walked the three blocks down the road to the office she worked in, and she was always punctual. He attempted to call and text her, but he received no reply. A sinking feeling filled his body when he gave up for the night, but he tried not to worry.
The next evening, she still had not come home.
He knew she had been separated from her family for years. She kept to herself, and, apart from him, she only had a few other acquaintances through her job. He feared that he may be the only one to notice her absence; and her absence was beginning to drive him to madness. He again called her cell phone and left an unanswered voicemail.
On the third day, he tried knocking on her door. He called her and texted her, but got no answer. He called her place of employment, and at last, a late-working coworker answered the phone. He was informed she had not been at work for the last three days.
Panic set in.
He hung up and immediately called the only person he could think of.
“Jared?” He asked the moment he heard the line pick up.
“A call and not a text; huh?” Jared’s sarcastic tone faded in, “this must be important.”
“My neighbor is missing.”
There was a pause on Jared’s line. “Missing?”
His voice trembled with worry. “I haven’t seen her in three days, and her work hasn’t seen her either. I haven’t been able to reach her... this isn’t like her—something’s happened...”
“Okay—Luis—don’t panic. I’ll call up dispatch and someone will be out there. It may not be me, but someone will be there.”
“Thanks,” Luis’ voice was scarcely above a whisper.
“You got it. Hang in there, bro.”
Sure enough, a Crestway police officer showed up and had the owner of the apartment complex open her door. They searched her apartment, but found no signs of a break in or a burglary. They found her starfish ring on the table beside her bed, but nothing else was out of place. Nothing pegged her for running away or even suicide.
Luis was questioned thoroughly, and he answered truthfully. When was the last time he had seen her? How long had he known her? Was she prone to isolation? Was she depressed or on medication? Is there anywhere she would have gone? What was his relationship to her?
He admitted that he loved her dearly, and he immediately choked on the words, now unsure if he would ever be able to tell her the same.
Day after day, he waited for her phone call. Day after day, he waited for her to return home. Day after day, he waited for an answer.
Months had passed. He had heard nothing of her whereabouts and no answers to any questions. Her apartment was cleaned out and put up for rent, and a new neighbor moved in. Her missing person’s case was filed away, and his handmade posters had faded and cluttered on the sides of the road.
He wore her starfish ring on a chain around his neck.
Even if others had, he would never forget her.
—
It had been a year since she had gone missing. He found himself awake before dawn, and he was drawn to the beach just as the sun was beginning to rise. He watched as the beam from the lighthouse began to fade into the pink light of morning. He stepped into the soft sand in bare feet and took in a deep breath of the warm, salty air. As he began to walk along the water, he was comforted by his surroundings; in fact, he could almost feel her with him.
Then, he saw her.
He froze. He panicked. He struggled to speak.
She was sitting a small distance from the shore on a large rock out in the ocean. She was turned away, but he could still recognize her—though he wasn’t sure what sort of outfit she was wearing.
“Liana!”
Her eyes darted to his own. They were distant and untrusting.
She dove into the water with a flip of a blue and lilac tail.
His heart stopped. He sunk to his knees.
What had happened to her?
Chapter 2 >>