Black Waters (Frank Ocean Love Story)

Chapter 十二

Christopher’s View . ▲ †

There’s a tingly feeling in my head. Something I’ve never really felt before. I know what it is, though—it’s simply the feeling of knowing something is near, and knowing to go after it. It’s my natural instinct, my intuition.

I don’t even know what an intuition really is, anyway. I just know I feel it. You can’t knock me for that, can you?

I looked up the definition of intuition, and got this:

1.    The ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning.

2.    A thing that one knows or considers likely from instinctive feeling rather than conscious reasoning.

 

Pretty much, I’m borderline psychic. People don’t just have intuitions that easily. It’s something on a spiritual level, something most people can’t understand. It might even be religious…not that I’ve found an ideal religion for myself yet.

But besides that, my intuition has been speaking to me for a while now. I just haven’t been listening. For example, the time I saw the ghost after I went to the hospital for Ajahni. How do you explain that? I wasn’t high, I wasn’t sick, I didn’t have any food poisoning. It was my fucking intuition.

All I have to do is take what my intuition tells me and figure out what to do with it. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with what the ghost told me. I’ve been thinking about it…the ghost was some form of Ajahni. But why did she come to me in a ghost form? Is she…?

No. She’s not dead.

I stopped thinking about that ghost, and started thinking about the tingling I feel in my head. Every inch, every fiber of my body is telling me the same thing. I’ve been thinking about him more, remembering him more…he’s here. He’s close to me.

“So all I have to do is find him.” I said aloud. I looked around cautiously. No one was around, so no one heard that. Good.

All I have to do is find him.

My lucky flashbacks about Forrest come in really handy, especially when I was walking around the neighborhood expecting him to pop out from somewhere. I had been discouraging myself when I realized that there was nowhere I could start looking for Forrest, except for everywhere.

But then a flashback came.

He always told me he wanted to move somewhere else, outside of California. Somewhere chill. The flashback I had was of a day when he finally realized a perfect place for him—Portland. I remember, from that day on he kept on talking about moving to Portland after he finished school.

So now that he’s probably finished school…where else could he be?

I bought a ticket on a Greyhound bus to Portland, determined to reach who I wanted. I didn’t know how I would find him there, but I didn’t want to think about it on the bus. I just wanted to focus on the mission.

It was mainly Chinese people or unconcerned white people on the bus, so I was free from the reluctant stares I’d usually get from people who wanted to ask for an autograph but were too intimidated.

I was wearing my favorite sweater today, the black-and-white striped one with the bird on the front. I was wearing that same bandana, too. Anyone could look at my from miles away and say, “Hey, that’s Frank Ocean.” That’s not something I usually want, but if that ‘anyone’ could possibly be Forrest, it’s alright with me.