A Fortune Cookie

Envy followed her like a shadow, in every façade of the sky-rocketing career that she built around herself like the defense walls of a monumental fort – high and impregnable. Living a life filled with success and ceaseless inflow of wealth, she barely found time for her social life. However, she never wanted to get away from a chance to meet her childhood friend, a soul sister and among the few real people that she had in her socially empty life – Susan.

It was a Chinese restaurant that Lucy frequented very often, usually with her colleagues and clients. With the number of small businesses that she had her wealth spread out, she took it to herself to acquire as much information that she could about the businesses as well as those who made the business run. She chose to eat at the Chinese restaurant as a measure of being healthy. Exercising in a routine that demanded her focus on every hour of the clock was hardly something that she preferred to do. Least that she did for herself was to choose healthier diet.

“It has been a long time, Lucy!” Susan spoke with an unmistakable look of joy in her eyes. “How I miss you, busybee!” Susan hugged Lucy before they settled at their table.

Over the pleasant conversation that covered the topics of their personal lives, the businesses that Lucy is tapping on, and Susan’s nagging over her wish for Lucy to get hitched, they ended the meal with a laugh. At the end, they received one fortune cookie each, which Lucy rarely opened, but she did this time on Susan’s insistence. It read, “Life is shorter than you think. Live it while it lasts.”

Lucy felt a little discomfort in her gut upon reading this ominous note. It felt like that message was specifically for her. She frowned, and looked for the waitress that left the fortune cookie on her table, but she did not see her anywhere. Eventually, she let it slip away from her mind and focussed on the million other things that she had to for the rest of the day.

After a usual hard day, she retired in her huge apartment post-midnight—something that she rarely did. On harder nights than this, she rested in a room that she built for herself in her office, where she’d have her privacy for sleep. Envy followed her here as well, as it was miraculous how deep she slept every night, despite the stress that she handles every day for her livelihood. As much as she enjoyed sleeping, her routine permitted her nothing more than a five-hour window to sleep, and she slept every minute of it, unlike this one night.

Few moments after she hit the bed, she was woken up by a loud piercing sound of glass breaking on to the marble flooring that covered the floor of her downstairs rooms. She woke up, alert and vigilant. Someone had broken into her house, she was certain. The moonlight projected shafts of light filtered by the scarce leaves from the tree outside the window. She pulled out her pistol from the bedside table and got out of the bed, befriending stealth.

She got a peek of the intruders. Not one, but three of them. She suddenly felt weak in her knees, overpowered by the force of three against one, but she maintained her resolve. She sent a message to Susan, because that was the only way to communicate without having to make a sound. As she anticipated, Susan did not answer her message. Panicked, Lucy sneaked a peek from the open door of her bedroom and got aware of the movements that happened in the rooms downstairs. The masked intruders were searching for something, but Lucy did not know what. She was hoping that they would find what they need, and left.

She heard the noise of falling furniture, breaking glasses; sign that the intruders are either foolish, or clueless that Lucy was in the house that night. Lucy stood with her back against the wall along her bedroom door. The breeze swayed the leaves outside, making their shadows dance on the floor in front of her. There was no noise for some moments and then what she heard shook her off her feet. She heard them taking the staircase, the footsteps heard distinctly in the otherwise empty night. She knelt and walked to the corner of the room, with the pistol raised to her shoulder level, ready to be fired.

The intruders barged in the open door, all three of them. Laced with anxiety, Lucy lost her focus and aim and missed her first shot. The repercussions of that misfire invited a shower of bullets piercing her flesh preceded by muffled shots. She screamed in fear first, and then pain and woke up from the nightmare that made her peace run off into the woods. Drenched in sweat, she breathed heavier than ever and took a walk outside in her house, finding every inch of it intact. She could not remember the last time she had a nightmare this haunting that it took away her sleep for the night.

She was shaken and disturbed by the literally unreal events from the last night, and it showed on her face and behaviour. No amount of caffeine worked its charm.

She was alone at lunch, and she decided to go to the same Chinese restaurant again. Anxiously waiting for her take-out, she was immersed in thoughts, clearly worried and anxious.

“Ma’am!” A voice came screaming into her left ear, as if the waiter was calling her for many times. She shook herself up, bringing herself out of the realistic and yet an unreal nightmare, collected her meal and thanked the waiter. She dug into the fortune cookie first and what she read left her lips trembling, her head spinning, her hands shaking and her voice stopped midway in her mouth, as is she choked on her own voice. She felt down on her knees, dropping the cookie on the ground that had a note, which read, “Some dreams will come true.”

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