Addicted

Five minutes to five o'clock, the black chimes attached at the door to her right echoed in the room even without the passing wind.

Islets puts the last resume to the shredder. She is done for the day but something keeps bothering her. Something she forgot to do. Unconsciously, she taps her ballpen to the tune of the chimes. She cannot put her finger on it but she felt that she missed something when she was talking with applicant Al White.

What was it? Suddenly a gust of wind slammed the entrance door open and the smell of fresh mint filled the room. The chimes stopped. Her heart starts beating fast. She paid a quick glance at her watch and it is one minute passed five. Her heart skips a bit.

This was the second time she exceeded beyond her duty hours. There are many rules in The Company that she just found out through experience. The sticky notes had stop coming two years ago and she was left to fend for herself. One of the rules is no overtime.

Fortunately, she always finished all the five hundred applicants everyday. The number of applicants she passed also dwindle down from three hundred to one hundred to seventy per day. She improve hell lot since she started.

Back when she let the three hundred plus applicants enteread the room to her left, the next day she receive an instruction to do better.

It was a very vague mesaage written in a curvy letters on a piece of a sticky note. There was not even a note telling her what she should improve. They were just bunch of do better notes. Day after day after day after day. It was annoying. On her third month she wanted to resign. She lasted for three months alone, with no sign of her supervisors and no one to tell her how can she do better. But she can't resign. It was so frustrating.

The pay is good. Really, really, really good. She have never seen that many zeros on her personal account before. Earning money of her own is gratifying and atqq that time, earning her own money is essential for achieve her goals. She can't take any shortcut.

Then one day she found a coffee on her desk and a note "Do better." It taste horrible and smells unlike the coffee she often smells from a cafe she always pass by when coming to work. After, having the coffee in that cafe everything starts to get moving. She did her job well. She stopped receiving the do well notes and received finally receiving a few instructions like.

"Pass the person that makes you think of the sea."

"Fail those who you think will run fast."

"Pass those who visted this and that place."

"Pass the people who you think thinks bad fail those who you think thinks good."

"Fail the people who you think miss someone."

"Fail those who refuses to jump."

"Fail anyone who regrets."

"Pass who you think will choose death."

She did her best in choosing which applicants most fit the description in those weird notes base on the scent they gave off. The information on their profile was not enough, it doesn't help as well that she cannot even ask further questions that will lead her to think they fit the description because she must identify them by smell alone. She tried to do that twice, the next day Islet found out that the applicants she passed by asking them probing questions were rejected by the team. She was also given a limited number of questions she can ask and answer.

The last instruction she received was two years ago.

"Find the gem."

Since then she never received another instruction nor she endorsed candidate for that position for the past two years.

It was a very hard to fill position. There was no one among the applicants she interviewed that smell like a gem. Up until Alice White. Aside from writing excellent on his resume she also wrote, Garnet on his paper.

Alice or Al White is indeed a gem among the pile of stones she discovered through her entire career. She is confident on her nose that he is the right one. She was already anticipating another letter to come tomorrow since its been so long since she received one. Recalling the scent Al White gave off Islets couldn't help but feel she forgot something.

She remembered the time. Islets needs to leave before the same thing happened when she extended for about five minutes for the first time. The frosted walla and heavy scent of mint coming from the door to her right just gave her chills. She imagine something will barge out of that door any minute.

She immediately grab her bag. For an instant she forget all about Al White. The only thought that came to her mind was "The Company is shady through and through and she is a foolish for staying so long." She wants to find him.

*******************************************************

Islet couldn't sleep that night.

She keeps repeating their conversation inside her head. Something comes to her mind the instant when she inhaled his scent but it vanished too quickly

that leaves her no time to digest what it was.

What did she missed?

She jumped out her bed tied her long reddish locks into bun and opened her computer. The white screen lit her dark room. She did not mention Al White on her entry for the day. But because his scent left a clear trace on her mind she needs to take down some notes.

How long has it been since she started her journal? Five years? Six? No five. Just a couple of months before she got the job from the company. She had an accident. It was a minor one. The doctors said nothing was wrong. But Islets felt something is different. At least on her memories. Some of them feel hazy, like there are some memories are shrouded with a cloth. Literally! In those memories she wears a cloth over her head whenever she speaks to someone. Everytime no one noticed or ask why she was wearing it. Nor she felt that she needs to take it off. As if it was the most natural thing!

Recalling those events she was sure she never wear any cloth over her head. But everytime whenever she tries to remember certain events at that house she would certainly wears it. She thought it will disappear when she leave the house.

But those kind of memories piles up. Even those she had outside that house. Especially when she talks to someone new that left her an impression. Almost everytime, when she tries to remember she was always wearing a cloth over her head when she clearly knew she did not even own a white cloth to begin with.

Because of that she started writing a journal. It help her focus and gave her an assurance that she is fine. If that cloth was only on her imagination then there shouldn't be any scent coming from that cloth. There were no scent in the new memories where she was wearing one.

What was the scent again? A small voice echoed on her head.

The cloth will always smell fresh and clean. Just like Alice White.

She highlighted Vanilla Lemon and Aroma Therapy - Al White Applicant-Thursday Morning for today's account.

Islets muttered his name.

Alice White

She can clearly remember his scent like he was just beside her. She remembered the shape of his face, his hair, his clothes, the way he open his mouth when he talks and his facinating grey eyes.

She then saw him in a room cooking something. What is he cooking? Pasta? No? Wait yes its pasta. Is he cooking for two or more? He really looks like a wife wearing an apron. Al White suddenly stop from moving his hand and looks at her direction.

She got startled. She was in another place.

Wait!

She tried to get hold of her head. But her room slowly changes into something foreign. The appliances, the color of the room and the scent changed as if she was really standing inside Alice White room.

What is happening?

He stepped closer to her and suddenly his hair changes into white and his pupils turns bloody red. He screamed at her and she woke up from her sleep.

Her body is sweating all over. She glanced at her clock it is twelve ninteen. Islets opened her window screen, breathe the fresh air outside. There was the smell of the trees, a hint of fuel from the cars passing by on the highway and the indistinct smell of people still outside their home. She closed it after a few second. Yes she is at home.

She wiped the traces of sweat on hear forehead and deciced to have a quick cold shower.

It was two years ago when she started to recognize the scent of the water to the point where she knows where it came from based on its components. Her apartment has a particularly rusty smelling water but at times when she cannot calm her nerves the rusty smelling water feels homey.

It was really weird, that dream. It felt so damn real. She can still remember the smell of his small apartment. Fresh laundry, flowers and the smell of pasta. Does his appartment looks like that in real life? Why is she even thinking of his appartment? She wrapped herself in a towel and looks at the mirror.

Water drips on her white skins, her cheeks flushed but her eyes certainly has dark circles.

This is not good all she thinks about is that brat because of something she just missed on their conversation. It is not good to be so obsessed to one person especially to their smell. Its bad for her. She imagined her self sweeping all the thoughts of Al White on her mind and was patting her hair dry with a small towel when blood trickled down her nose.

"NO! No! No no no no!" She screamed looking at bloodied nose in the mirror. She is already addicted.

The blood dripping on her nose is not stopping. If this doesn't stopped she will be bleeding to death!

"Calm your self Islets. You are not addicted. No not, not addicted. At least not yet. Calm your self."

Unfortunately she was not able to dress herself without blood dripping on her shirt. She twisted a tissue and put it in her nose. Where did she put her emergency kit? "Fudge! Office!" She was scared with that minty scent that she forgot about her coffee kit.

She breeze towards her cupboard for any sign of coffee beans. None. "Damn it! I forgot to buy another bag earlier when going home." The tissue is already getting soaked of blood. She tossed it in the trash bin and plugged another one.

"I swear if this happens to normal people they will already faint from this amount of blood." After twisting another tissue and plunging another on her nose she throws it on her thrash can. At the back of her mind, the image of Mrs. Green who is cleaning her house from time to time will be shocked to the amount of bloodied tissue there and her bloodied shirt.

The poor housekeeper might stopped working for her if she sees it. She will have to tidy up before she came later. She sat on the sofa and laid her head up. She ended twisting about four tissue still no sign of stopping the nose bleed.

"Why isn't it stopping? I am not addicted am I? No that is not the case! It can't be! Coffee! I just need some damn coffee beans!"

She remembered the 3in1 sampler she got at the train station a few days ago. It was weird because she is expecting to see an advertisement at the back of the sachet but found none. Since it is coffee and free she took the sampler. She remembered slipping it on her bag. She tossed another bloodied tissue to the trash can.

A woman is supposed to have a lot of things on her bag but Islets only has a ballpen, a tissue, a wallet, a lipstick, her phone and a sachet of coffee. The brand is something she never seen in a coffee before. Nevertheless she put it in the mug on her bed side table and took a whiff of it. Even if it is not coffee bean. Coffee is coffee. Her nerves calms down as she imagined his scent fading from her memories in every whiff she takes.

"Really coffee is life."

After calming down. Islets tries to rationalize everything. "Al White is someone you just met and spend time for more than five minutes. It's fine." She told to her self. "For you to be an addict you must be obsessed first. But since you will never meet him again. The obsession cannot happen. Therefore you are still safe. No Al White. No obssession. No addiction. I am still safe." She repeats to her self over and over again until she falls into a deep sleep.