Fiction | Hope | Healing
The Thrilling Case of Forensia
A legend is born
“That’s all I have to say”, said Justin. “It’s so boring with you every day, Layla. So cold and nerdy you are. Look at Sasha, she is so hot and sensual.”
Layla was crying all along while repeatedly adjusting her glasses and wiping tears. Before she could look up, Justin had left already.
I heard Floral sneezing more out of cold and being wet.
“Those serene lakeside surroundings where memories once danced and swirled are now feeling so gloomy,” said Floral, the handkerchief.
Layla took me out of her tiny purse and looked at me intently. “Am I so ugly?” she asked.
Her eyes were swollen of bad sleep and crying for so long, I could feel she was in deep mental agony.
“Such a happy girl, see what love has done to her,” I whispered to Floral.
Before I could think of something to say, I saw two big hands pressed against Layla’s mouth and asked her at gun point to sit in a van.
I seemingly flew off from Layla’s hand in circles maneuvering between large bluish blades of giant wild rye bushes, and became a silent witness to her abduction. I heard the boots of a man crushing her glasses into pieces.
On ground, my vibrant essence seeped bleeding into the soil. Each grain of sand etched tales of horror onto me peeling my skin into thousand cuts.
Layla’s struggle was written all over my face, with face bruises telling the story of poor girl’s suffering. The van door closed and they took off with her.
I was there half-dead and half-naked in dirt the whole cold night. I could barely recognize myself. The pain was unbearable. I went unconscious.
LAPD van arrived in the morning. Layla’s mom was already there. Crying profusely for her missing teenage daughter.
Officer Rodriguez came by. He took a look at the scene. “What have we here, Max?” he queried to the canine detective.
Max’s tail wagged happily as he found my scent.
Wooff wooff!
“I’ve got something here, Officer. Seems like these belong to our victim.” Max came too close sniffing me all over. Max was micron-close to lick me all over, pull on his leash saved me. Thanks to Officer Rodriguez.
The forensic team carefully put me in a plastic bag and carried to their lab.
“Prepare the experiments, Jack,” said the lab technician. “Clean n Peel the first layer off to recover saliva and DNA. Use the clean Petri dish and glass slides kept in the left cabin. Do not forget to take the finger prints.”
He left.
Jack took several layers of my skin, apportioning them on glass slides and a Petri dish for DNA analysis.
The worn-out magnifying glass intricately observed and traced each and every contour, cut, and mark on me while curious row of test tubes were whispering.
As detective Bob Simmons wearily confided to his mate, “I pray she gives us the key to find Layla.”
“Ahh, the poor girl, I had forgot about her amidst all those procedures. Where is she now?”
I was put on the evidence top shelf of forensic lab among many new friends with their own stories.
The days stretched into weeks, one week into three, but no definite word arrived about Layla. And I grew tense. Negative thoughts surrounded me. I felt so helpless for doing nothing for Layla.
My shelf-friends pacified me.
“Do not worry, Forensia! Layla will come back,” said Kayne, the car key. “I know she is your best friend. She was your home away from family when she took you for first time. I can feel your pain for being away from the most intimate person and having no idea about her well-being.” He hugged me.
“Will she come back and take me home or my self-life will be this shelf-life in these dark corners of LAPD forensic lab for years to come,” I sighed.
“All old memories flashed back. The smiles, joy, happiness in restaurants, cafes, and giggles at school. My cozy and comfortable drawer, soft touch of Layla, and feeling proud for being the center of attention felt like a decade ago.”
“Two wanted fugitives shot dead in deep Angeles forest area. A van and three girls recovered from the location,” the breaking news flashed on TV screen.
“Seems like our case got solved,” said elated Jack. “But where is Layla! These three girls are no Layla.”
I never knew my happiness would be so short-lived.
Detective Simmons entered the forensic lab. His forehead wrinkles and serious face made me more nervous.
He sat on the edge of the dim chamber, reading through reports. In front of him, two officers talked into their own telephones.
“We need more leads. Keep probing — we must have overlooked something,” he spoke.
In the reverie of the police precinct, something new emerged.
“Officer Rodriguez, put the most successful police Canines into search operation,” detective Simmons ordered.
“Bring the evidence with you, Jack! Hurry up, let’s go,” said Officer Rodriguez.
Jack hurriedly took me off the shelf and put me in his bag. We travelled to the exact forest location.
As jack pulled me out of the bag, it was tall trees and police vans all around. The sun rays filtered through towering pine trees while mottling the forest floor with patches of warmth. Choppers were flying high above the pine trees like dragons searching for their prey.
The forest buzz was filled with rhythmic chirping of crickets, croaking of frogs, the occasional rustle of leaves, and the distant whisper of a gentle breeze.
The atmosphere was filled with a blending of earthy aroma of pine needles and herbal fragrance of Cleveland sage.
“Ohh, Forensia, how are you doing,” chuckled Max. He started sniffing all over me again. I just cannot stand the dog breath and drooling mouth. Just for Layla, I stood tall without breathing till Max sniffed me enough.
Whew!
The air was heavy with anticipation and optimism hung by a slim thread.
The distant hooting of owls echoed deep into the forest and inflicting shivers in my heart.
Suddenly Max raised his ears and started to run like a cheetah. Officer Rodriguez, Jack and me ran to the best of our abilities. The poly bag walls had slapped, kicked and punched me thousand times by then.
Max stopped.
Wooff Wooff!
Officer Rodriguez, his voice vibrant with excitement, reported: “we found a handkerchief stained with lipstick.”
“That’s Floral,” I shouted. I can recognize my prints on her.
Smart girl, Layla. She must have followed this path.
Officer Rodriguez said with enthusiasm, “Great job, Maxxie. Let’s follow this lead. Layla may not be as far away as we think.”
Max found an underground tunnel five hundred yards from the location of Floral.
There she was, Layla. So thin, distressed, ill and unconscious in the hide-out.
Layla, against all odds, persisted and survived.
The health support arrived. She was air-lifted to nearby hospital immediately.
She recovered and learnt about how I helped in the case.
“Where is Forensia?” she asked her parents.
They presented me in a golden box to Layla in the hospital. Everyone clapped.
Now I am part of Layla’s family forever and beyond.
Layla looked at her family and said, “Thank you, Forensia. You are my hero. We are bonded through our DNAs. We both are fighters, survivors and Sisters.”
That’s my girl! Involuntary tears of happiness found their way down on my cheeks.
Love you Layla.
The thrill of uncertainty gave place to comforting warmth, and recuperation set in.
I am Forensia, a lipstick, a sister and a legend in the whole fraternity of lipsticks.
My story is a tribute to the survival and success of people in pursuit of togetherness and courage under terrible circumstances.
This story is written in response to the lovely invitation from Liberty. An incredible invitation. Thoroughly enjoyed the creativity it brought in me. Thank you.
Also please read these fabulous writers. They are so amazing. A shoutout to Darlene, Chantal, and Grace!
