The Magic Trick

It was the quiet that gave it away.

My friend never stops talking. She chatters, perched on the counter while I try and fail to follow cooking videos, only pausing when I make her taste something. She punctures every movie's climax with a stream of unending questions, prompting me to often complain that I'm not the director. No matter whose disapproval she risks, she loudly shares her opinions, funny jokes, or idle observations.

I'm home, so she's supposed to call out to me. Placing my keys in our Easter-themed basket, I stopped short of saying something myself. Waiting with bated breath for an excited question or the sound of her voice filling the flat with song.

It takes me a second to understand that she isn't going to say anything. Frowning, I struggle with a coat pocket to retrieve my cold phone. No missed calls, no messages.

Asiya usually tells me if she's going shopping or something, saying something cheesy like, "Don't wait up".

But there's nothing. The routine is broken, and I hate it when something changes. Asiya knows that. She knows everything, like how I love her bubbly voice drowning out my thoughts when they won't stop. 

The feeling of wrongness only increases as I finish my search of the kitchen. 

Everything is spotless, and I know neither of us cleaned before heading out. 

"Asiya?" I call, taking the carpeted steps quickly. Once I reach our rooms, I realize the air's shaken. It's still disturbed from her presence, and I don't understand.

Was she just here? 

There's a flash that I catch through the slats of the walk-in closet.

My heart almost lurches with relief. "You got me, Asiya, I thought you'd been kid-" My voice cuts off after the dramatic flinging open of closet doors. Nothing, just a bright yellow jacket stirred by the open vent under it.

A cold chill now creeps into the vacuum, filling me with dread. Asiya never let me get cold, pushing fluffy socks, sweaters, gloves into my hands or pretending to suffocate me with some random blanket.

It was a running joke between us. I'm always cold, and Asiya's always blasting the fan during freezing winters. 

A smile had twisted my face when I thought I'd caught Asiya, and its corpse still lingers on my face, stiff, as I search the bathrooms.

Uncertainty makes me reach for my phone again. I scroll through my contacts, wondering how ridiculous it would be to call someone about this.

What would I even say?

"Hey, Mel, is Asiya with you? Sorry, she's only been missing thirty minutes as far as I'm aware, but I just want to know. Like some creepy, clingy idiot."

I shook my head vigorously. Mel hated me already, and Asiya broke up with Jordan last week. The chances she's with her obnoxious boyfriend are slim to none.

With a sinking feeling, I realize I'm afraid. I wish I'd paid more attention to Asiya's heavily populated friend group, that I knew more than her so-called "best" friend and ex-boyfriend.

Asiya's voice suddenly infiltrated my mind, and I knew what she would say right now:

"Just breathe, moron. No need to panic yet."

"No need to panic yet" was the Asiya Iqbal version of Hakuna Matata. I'd never come across a situation that warranted panicking for Asiya. She handled everything like a boss, unlike me.

I was the one who felt the need to place cameras around the-

My eyes widened, and I slapped a hand to my forehead, cursing myself for my stupidity. I switched to the app on my phone and opened our cameras.

Asiya always mocked my paranoia, but if she'd been kidnapped, she'd thank me for the cameras now.

Nothing. No matter how much I tapped and scrolled, the camera footage remained staticky and blank.

How is this possible? My breaths sped up, and it was a struggle to get it back under control.

No, no, no! This was supposed to be our safety net.

I resisted the urge to fling my phone against a wall and automatically dialed Mel.

Asiya's friend didn't pick up until I called her a third time.

"What the hell do you want?" Mel snapped when she finally answered.

I fought to keep my voice casual. "Sorry, do you know where Asiya is?"

"Asiya?" Mel's voice got softer then. "What do you mean?"

"What do I-where is she right now?" I asked again, my voice sharper.

"I have no idea. Aren't you two joined at the hip like Siamese twins or something?" Mel drawled in response, sounding distracted. "I have to go, but I haven't seen her all day."

"All day?" I echoed, my voice strained. "Mel, she left for school! Are you saying she never got there? Mel? Shit!" I pulled the phone from my ear and saw that she'd already hung up.

God, that cow. I paced in a manic circle for a second, seething and panicked. Quickly, my fury with Mel faded, and I felt a new terror over where Asiya was.

That terror forced me to call Jordan.

Unlike Mel, he picked up immediately.

"Who this?" He asked, voice slow and lazy like he'd just woken up.

"Zinta Esposito? Asiya's best friend," I elaborated, gritting my teeth.

Jordan sounded like he had no idea who the hell I was. "Oh, yeah. What's up?"

"Do you know where Asiya is?" I asked, closing my eyes in frustration.

"Oh, she didn't tell you, huh? We-"

"-broke up, I know." I finished impatiently, "So you don't know where she is?"

"No, but-"

I hung up and slammed my hand against a wall. Letting my head rest against the wall, I huffed out sharp breaths.

My phone had dropped out of my hand, and staring up at me from my lock screen was a cute picture of Asiya and me.

We were laughing, and I remembered the day perfectly. A day completely different from this snowy hellscape. When she promised, giggling over a monstrous ice cream, that she would always be my friend.

She brought out the personality in me. I was funny for her, relevant for her, I watched popular movies for her.

No matter how much Mel griped, Asiya kept me around. Mel could pretend to be a good friend, but I was so much more than that. No matter how much Jordan whined or tried to get her to pull away, Asiya always held me close.

I want her to come back so bad. She can keep me warm, and I can keep her sweet, naive, heartbreakingly kind self safe from the world.

She could just stroll through our door, wiping snow off her hat, smiling from the sheer pleasure of just being alive. And I could justify existing, all so I could listen to her incredible voice and live off her warmth.

I feel abandoned. I feel like she was always there, tucked into my side, a living, breathing part of me. 

Now, I feel like I've woken up after surgery I didn't know I was getting.

And through the clearing haze of anaesthesia, I know that someone's ripped my kidneys right out of me.

I closed my eyes against the tears, clenching my now swollen fist. It is so quiet in this house. Even as it whirs with the washing machine, and all the lights hum. It's silent.

Admitting defeat, I reached for my phone and dialed 911.

"Hello? My name is Zinta Esposito, and my friend's gone missing. She's vanished into thin air."

And left broken pieces of me behind.