Some people live as though they are already dead. There are people moving around us who are consumed by their past, terrified of their future, and stuck in their anger and jealousy. They are not alive; they are just walking corpses.
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There are many things that can be yearned for in a world so large as the one that is currently known. Some crave fame, others fortune. Some crave power, others love. Some crave usefulness, others a chance to help themselves over those around them.
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Everyone yearns for something, even if it is a yearning to want, in and of itself. This is the way of the world, the way things have always been and always shall be.
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I for one, am no exception to this rule. I too crave for something, but mine is just short of impossible. Maybe just a little to close for my liking, but it has yet to discourage me.
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My eyes uncomfortably lower, toward the ground. A child no older than thirteen, stood before me. Her dark brown eyes, reminded me of something. What, I am not entirely certain, but it has the ability to stir up an ocean of fury.
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The child shuffled as my gaze studied them.
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“Good morning,” I barley heard their whisper.
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“Good morning, what can I do for you?”
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“I’m here for a package,” she nervously tapped her fingers.
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I grab my clipboard, as I look among the names.
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“For?”
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“Aria Ross”
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My eyebrows raises, if only a centimeters. Ross. It seems she still goes by her husband’s last name. I am by no means a person who loves gossip, but I have heard quite a few things. Who hasn’t though? Haven’t everyone heard of the story?
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The death of James Ross, or Aria Ross’s Husband. It was all over the news. 3 years ago maybe? If I remember correctly Aria herself had found him. James’s throat had been slit. Both the James and the room he had died in was very gruesome, or so I've heard. The murderer has yet to be found.
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“Ah, yes.” I intend did has a package for Ross. “Wait right here for a moment,” I say as I make my way towards to backroom. Cold, metal shelves filled of the room. Not space seen, because cardboard boxes, that ranged from small to big, laid on the shelves.
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