The Lost Eye

I hate airports. It’s all too much—the enormous lines, the crush of people, and the tangible stress of schedules hanging in the balance. Nevertheless, I make every effort to see my parents since that is the one thing I truly love. Today is no different, except for the uncomfortable tug in my chest as I approach security.

"Please remove any metal items," the security officer's voice cuts through the noise.

I bite my lip, hesitating as my hand reaches for my wrist. The bracelet, L'œil de Sainte Lucie, has been my constant companion for over five years. I rarely remove it. Originating from Corsica, legend has it that it is more than just a piece of jewelry—it is protection, guarding me against the misfortunes of the world. Whenever I removed it in the past, something bad always happened.

But this is airport security. I don’t have a choice.

Reluctantly, I unclasp it, running my fingertips over the smooth shell before putting it into the gray basket along with my phone and suitcase. I pass through the scanner, glancing nervously back at the basket.

After gathering my things, I reach inside for the bracelet, only to find nothing there.

I feel my heart sink to my stomach. I look once more, rummaging in the basket. "No, no, no," I mutter under my breath, lifting each item in a frantic search. My bracelet is gone.

I turn to face the security officer. "Excuse me," I murmur in a tense voice. "Did you see a bracelet? It was in this tray."

The officer gives me a sidelong glance. "Everything that came through should be in your basket."

"Well, it’s not." My voice has a hint of panic. "It's a little bracelet with a silver clasp and a white shell. I just put it in here."

The cop, clearly used to stressed-out travelers, sighs. "It could have been misplaced if it's not in the tray. Check the lost and found area." 

"But—" I swallow hard, trying to maintain my composure. "It was right here. Can’t you check the cameras or ask someone if they saw it?"

"Ma'am, there’s a line behind you. If it turns up, we'll let you know. You can check with the information desk in the meantime." The officer motions for me to move along.

For a moment, I wanted to argue some more, but I had little option given the growing line of passengers behind me. I move to the side, my heart pounding in my chest. Where could it have gone? Did someone take it? My gut twists at the thought. I look around, my eyes darting from passenger to passenger, wondering if someone had taken my bracelet.

***

By the time I reach the counter, my nerves are shot. “Please tell me you’ve found a bracelet,” I say, clutching the edge of the desk. “It’s a white shell bracelet with a silver clasp. It’s very important.”

The woman behind the counter glances at a stack of lost items and slowly shakes her head. “Sorry, nothing like that has come through today.”

My heart sinks. I thank the woman and turn away, gripping my suitcase tightly. My head throbs with worry. Without that bracelet, I feel exposed and vulnerable. And even though it's only been a few hours, it feels like a lifetime. This is the longest I've gone without wearing my bracelet. The gaping hole in my arm seems like an obtrusive emptiness, a continual reminder that my protection is gone. Time crawls agonizingly, with each minute seeming to stretch into days. My mind races, thinking of all the horrible things that may happen while I'm without it.

Paranoia swirls through my head as I walk away from the counter. What if someone took it? What if the security officer pocketed it when I wasn’t looking? Or maybe the person who passed through security just before me? I'm unable to let it go. It didn't make sense for the bracelet to just vanish into thin air.

My gaze lands on a man with a large jacket pocket near the seating area. Could he have it?

I march over, my voice trembling but determined. “Excuse me,” I say, trying to sound calm. “Did you happen to see a bracelet in security? A small white shell bracelet with a silver clasp?”

The man blinks at me, startled by my sudden approach. “Uh, no? I didn’t see anything like that.”

I narrow my eyes. “Are you sure? It was right there, and now it’s gone. You passed through security right before me, didn’t you?”

The man shifts uncomfortably, glancing around as if looking for an escape. “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t take your bracelet.” 

“Can I check your pocket, then?” I blurt out, my suspicion outweighing my manners. “If you’re innocent, you won’t mind proving it.”

His face reddens, and he takes a step back, clearly offended. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. What’s your problem anyway? You think you can just accuse anyone?”

“I’m not accusing,” I snap, though I can hear the desperation in my voice. “I just need to know. That bracelet is important to me, and it’s gone, and you were right there—”

He raises his hands defensively. “Look, I didn’t take your bracelet, okay? Back off before I call security.” He brushes past me, leaving me standing there and feeling a growing sense of embarrassment.

I take a deep breath, but my suspicion only grows. I spot another woman, a young mother struggling to keep her child calm. Maybe she took it when I wasn’t paying attention.

“Excuse me,” I say, my voice tense. “I know this might sound strange, but did you happen to pick up a bracelet by mistake in the security line?”

The woman looks up, flustered and already stressed with her crying child. “No, I haven’t. I’m sorry. I have my hands full here.” Her tone is sharp, irritated by the accusation.

I press on, my voice desperate. “Please, just check. It’s really important, and I’m sure I had it before I went through security.”

Her eyes flash with irritation. “Do you seriously think I’d steal your bracelet while I’m trying to handle my child? You think I have time for that?”

“I’m not saying you stole it,” I stammer, taken aback by her anger. “I just… Maybe it got mixed up with your things. Can you at least check?”

She glares at me, the baby crying louder in her arms. “I said no! I don’t have your bracelet, and I don’t appreciate being accused. Now, please, leave me alone!”

I mumble an apology, retreating as heat flushes my cheeks. Now I'm just making a fool of myself. But my mind refuses to stop racing and obsessing about the possibility that someone has stolen my precious bracelet.

Frustration clouds my judgment, and my rage begins to boil over. I start glancing around, eyeing everyone like a potential thief, my stress escalating.

***

On my way to a café to get some water after running around for so long, I am nearly knocked over by a rushing passenger. I stumble, catching myself just in time but twisting my ankle in the process.

"Ow!" I gasp, leaning on a nearby table. "This can’t be real…"

Determined not to give in to superstition, I limp to the café. Just as I reach the counter, another passenger crashes into me, spilling a large cup of iced coffee all over my shirt.

"Are you kidding me?" I groan, wiping futilely at the dark stain spreading across my chest. The man apologizes repeatedly, but it does nothing to quell my growing frustration.

I find a bathroom and attempt to clean myself up, but my shirt is ruined. With a heavy sigh, I lean against the sink and look into the mirror. My hair is a mess, my ankle hurts, and my clothes are covered in coffee stains—all because I lost my bracelet.

No, because someone has stolen it.

I narrow my eyes as I think about the security officer who had been watching me closely. I can’t shake the feeling that he had taken it. Perhaps he was pocketing items from distracted passengers.

Fueled by suspicion, I limp back to security and find the officer who checked my basket. "I need to speak to someone about my bracelet," I demand.

The officer raises an eyebrow. "Ma'am, we've already checked. If it’s gone, there’s nothing we can do. Please, take it up with lost and found."

I open my mouth to argue but stop short when a hand lands firmly on my shoulder. I turn around to find a stern officer staring down at me.

"Miss, we've received complaints that you've been bothering other passengers," he says, "I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

My heart sinks. "But my bracelet—"

"Let's discuss it in a more appropriate setting," he interrupts, directing me to a small office off to the side. The room is cramped, with white walls and a single desk overflowing with paperwork. As we enter, a second officer, most likely the police chief, sits behind the desk, looking displeased.

"What's the issue here?" he asks, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow.

"My bracelet is missing," I say, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "It must have been stolen. I've been trying to find it, but no one is helping me."

The director leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "And that gives you the right to harass other passengers? Do you realize the trouble you're causing here?"

"I'm not trying to cause trouble," I argue, feeling my frustration bubble over. "That bracelet is important to me. I know someone took it, and I can't just let it go."

He sighs, clearly unimpressed with my reasoning. "Ma'am, I understand you're upset, but you can't go around accusing people without evidence. This is an airport, not a crime scene."

My chest tightens as I realize how hopeless this situation has become. "Please, you have to help me. Just check with security one more time, or check the cameras—anything!"

The director stares at me for a moment, then reaches for the phone on his desk. "Fine. I'll make one more call, but if they haven't found anything, that's it."

He dials a number and speaks briefly with someone on the other end. My heart races as I listen, but the answer remains the same: nothing has been found.

"Your flight is about to board," he says, hanging up the phone. "I suggest you head to your gate and stop bothering people, or we'll have to take further action."

I nod numbly, feeling utterly defeated. "Thank you," I mutter before turning to leave. I can barely keep the tears from falling as I walk away, my feet dragging toward the gate. All hope feels lost—until, midway to the gate, I hear someone call out behind me.

"Miss, wait!"

I turn around to see another officer hurrying toward me, holding something small and shiny in his palm.

"Is this what you were looking for?" he asks, holding out my bracelet.

I gasp, relief coursing through my veins as I take it from him, my fingers trembling. "Yes! Oh, God, thank you! "Where did you find it?"

"It had fallen behind the X-ray machine," he explains with a smile. "One of the maintenance crew found it while cleaning."

Tears of relief prick my eyes as I fasten it back onto my wrist. "Thank you so much," I breathe, overwhelmed with gratitude. 

As I walk away, bracelet secure on my wrist, I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events lift off my shoulders. Everything that had gone wrong seemed to vanish into the background. Maybe it was all a coincidence, or maybe the bracelet really did protect me. Either way, I have no intention of taking it off any time soon.

I smile softly to myself as I make my way toward my gate. Whatever awaits me on the other side of my journey, I will be ready.