Wednesday afternoon, an unusual moment for a nine-year-old girl tirelessly searching for something she lost. Oblivious on her feelings that she let her guard loose while buying candies on the store. Minutes have passed, wherein she paid, and it was too late.
The kid is a bit kind of protective, almost possessive. Wary and cautious on handling the things she is fond of. If ever she loses something from those treasures, she’ll whine. All the things she had is a treasure, materialistic may seem but it is a sentiment and appreciative of her to keep the things that was given to her. Given too by the persons’ she cherishes in her life, that all came from their hard work.
The kid rarely stays, stay at their side, as a kid who values freedom most, but the only thing that she kept as key memory in her side is their gift. A gift that reminds her the day she received it and moments that they are present.
On the streets, she is searching, along the way unbothered by the sound of vehicles and indiscreet chats from people who loiters. She bumped by other kids that is playing and running, still, she was solidified on the ground for search, thinking she fell it on the way.
Long hours passed but the kid is not counting, the boy that is waiting for his friend notice her and thought that it has been two hours since she had seen the kid while buying drinks on the store. Thoughtful he is and bothered by her age at this hour, he followed her.
Blanked paint face, the kid did not falter. She searches and stepped then search for truth, while repressing sadness.
She then tried to ask for help to those in her age, but they just dismissed the idea as they don’t understand her. Their feedback made her impatient and dolly, from the attitude and feeling she has, she judged them.
She searched again, nonstop, everywhere and everything, not caring for any direction she turned and what way she should take.
At her age and unfamiliarity of the place, the signs, the names were in blindsight. She only relied on her familiarity, motion, intuition, and motivation.
Ice cream vendor’s bell made her think to try again. She asked the middle-aged man scrolling on his phone while waiting for a ride, but he refused to even face her. She stopped then retreat from the direction she had taken.
She, again, search, intuitively for help, not in a reason for what she lost but, in a reason, she is now lost.
“I am lost” a realization dawned her after the man’s ignorance. Looking forward, she traced back her previous steps but no signs, of familiarity. Regrets rushed onto her, her oblivion, her attention to that thing.
“I lost something then I let them lose myself in the process”.
She again, ask for help, but failed to describe her place. They paid attention but they kept on passing the responsibility to others to guide her.
Some have recognized her, then helped her by pointing out the exact place they’ve seen her, it was not enough, but helpful.
The boy that noticed her lately finally approached her, “Its 6pm and getting dark, an age like you with that uniform unlikely roam around this hour”. The kid holds his arm, nonverbally asking for help. On the verge of crying, the boy offered her and gently guide the way back to her place. With the help of his inquiries on people around, they have found it.
Reaching the place of kid’s familiarity, the boy began to listen on the kid’s guide. Few more steps, the kid opens something, she tells the reason, she shares the thing she lost, and a thing that made lost her. Hearing that, the boy then leaves her with these.
“All things you’ve had, don’t always need the protection, you will lose something, always, but certainly, you will gain something. Careful touch, you should protect yourself more, those were repairable and replaceable. You? Are not.”
A passage from Voice 1: In Places
© 2021 Deinty Woodtales