Chapter 2: Lost (1/2)

When I try to retell my story with definite facts and situations connected to certain times, I feel my memory of my life getting blurry, so that it’s hard to make out any details from my general life. However, that feeling vanishes once I carefully think about the day I marked to be the start of this very, very unfortunate situation.
When one particular whale — still not an adult, and fairly unfamiliar with his senses — went missing, it was certainly not a matter to easily be disregarded. However, it wasn’t the first time someone from the pod disappeared; accidents occur quite frequently. The reason why this disappearance still was so peculiar was not the disappearance itself, but the reason, which was communicated to us through various messengers.
It appeared that the whale had encountered an underwater explosion in an area that was proclaimed as dangerous not a while ago back then. The other habitants of the sea had witnessed major explosions in that region and thus strongly advised to keep the stay there as short as possible. I remembered the teen whale to be adventurous and brave, but it was also clumsy. As obnoxious as this sounds, its disappearance was no surprise, as recklessness is often observed in the behavior of mostly younger animals.
Nevertheless, the death was tragic and intriguing. We’ve only heard about underwater explosions before; it has never directly affected us until now. The situation was questionable and is estimated to be heavier than it initially seems.
“Could’ve anyone particular caused this?” I asked Finch, our primary source of information. “It cannot be that this is just a common occurrence, there has to be a connection between this and… the other things.”
And Finch did know a lot. I trusted him to be truthful about his discoveries and knew that if there was something that needed to be said, he wouldn’t keep it secret. Finch at that time, was not very helpful though. He was panicking and made prognoses about the future with a very convincing and simultaneously hysterical undertone that made it hard to even decipher what he was trying to say. And although his behavior was unusual, compared to his very composed and rational self, I decided to leave him to his pacing. Investigation might’ve been the most efficient way to solve the problems, but it would also take many more to sacrifice other than just that teen whale and the few calves, I thought back then. A few of the whales were already suffering from an illness yet to be identified, and we all hoped it would disappear over time if we all stayed together and took care of each other. And even when it looked like our pod was beyond saving as it was rapidly getting worse with each day, I believed in a miracle great enough to make everything right again. I felt as if I had the right to dream; I convinced myself that it wasn’t serious, and that everyone would stay alive.