The royal fuel and gas has been one of the best stable and reliable companies in this country. With its numerous fuel stations and gas points countrywide, offering the best fairest prices and the best quality gas, it's ranked the best in terms of quality, fair prices, best most reliable, and best services in the country. That, I read from different sources, has been possible by its young owner and CEO who has tried so much to keep his face off the camera. But as the owner of such a big company, unless you hide underground, your footsteps on the surface of the earth will be traced in one way or the other. And so, Jerol O'Brian McCall has been recognized for being the brain behind Royal fuel and gas.
What's shocking is that people thought he would join his parents in the family business in the field of insurance but he shocked everyone. He didn't venture into something related to his family business. He went out his way, out of what seemed to be obvious, and dived into something so different and spectacular. Ten years now since he started the company at the age of nineteen, immediately after completing his master's degree, the company has never faced a crisis. But that was, or is, until now.
About three days ago, The Royal fuel and gas was put in the limelight for the very first time with an adverse review since its birth. Rumours has it that the management of the company is becoming poor which is causing the problems in the company. What remains a puzzle is why the management is quiet about the issue.
The headline of today reads, IS IT THE BEGINNING OF THE FALL OF THE ROYAL FUEL AND GAS? Nobody seems to understand what happened all of a sudden, and it is happening so fast.
This hurts, so much. It hurts to see a company that was built with a lot of sweat, a company that has been standing for years, start to crumble. What's more painful is the thought that the owner, Jerol, doesn't seem to care. He doesn't care about anything. Nothing at all. Depression has hit him really hard, rendering him clueless and emotionless about everything else that is happening to and around him.
I must admit, I was so pissed off those times he let out his anger on objects and hurt himself. Those days he snapped and yelled at everyone, I got angry, and even though I was good at hiding it, it angered me. But now, those days were better. At least I could tell when he was angry. At least he could calm down even just a little after breaking some objects or punching a wall. The case is so different now. He has gone completely mute. He doesn't talk. He doesn't yell. He doesn't eat, unless when he feels like hunger is about to strike him dead. He stopped making those calls about that ghost woman. I don't know what really happened. He might have given up on her search, but his mind and soul have left this place to go look for her, because he can't live without her. This right here is just his body.
"Jerol." I call softly, setting the tray of food in the empty space on the bed. He is staring at the empty ceiling, like he always does most of the time during the day. "It's time for your meal." He still remains in the same state, his hands crossed on his chest, not blinking, not moving, not saying anything. He is just there, like a cabbage. I wave my hand on his face, and he turns his head to my side, so slowly like someone who is carrying all the problems of the whole nation. "Eat something, please?" He doesn't even spare a glance at the plate of food I brought him.
Like other times, he just flips on the side, turning his back on me, and pulling the duvet to his neck. I get the memo and move the tray to the table. I take the magazine from the table. Maybe it will trigger something when he sees it. Truth is, I'm freaking out not being able to understand him. I would rather he get mad, hurt me, yell at me, and fire people for no reason. just anything as long as he shows some reaction. At least that way I'll know how to handle him.
I kneel on the side of the bed he is facing, and show him the magazine with today's headline about his company. He looks at it, for a second, and that is just it. He closes his eyes to the less important things, things that don't matter. I move my hand to his unkempt hair, digging my fingers into them. I take a close look at his face. The beards long than their usual size. He looks so peaceful while asleep. I know he is asleep, otherwise, he won't have let me touch him. These lips kissed me once, and that was his last day of being the real Jerol that I knew. He changed completely the day after, or should I say, he got tired of hiding his pain. Or maybe he didn't even know when he lost it. I don't know if he can hear me, but I feel like I need to tell him something. So, I begin, massaging his temple with one hand.
"You know, Jerol, a lot of things are happening that you are not aware of. Your company need you the most. I want to help you, but I don't know to. It's so difficult to help someone when you don't even have any idea where to begin, or what to say or do. I need you to help me help you, Jerol. Stop punishing yourself like this, please. It's hurting everyone, even your parents. I..." I stop when I see tears dropping from his eyes. Does this mean he can hear me? I wipe them away. "I need you to be okay, Jerol." I say, and for some very weird reasons, I am crying too. I close my eyes, and put my lips on his forehead, giving him a soft kiss. I rest there for a minute praying that he gets well.
I attempt to walk out, but his hands wrap around me, so tight like they will never let me go.
"ELLIE." He whispers behind my ear, pressing me to him.
Ellie? That is her name? I mean, the ghost woman who is responsible for this torture he is going through right now.
Ellie is a beautiful name, but why did she have to act like a devil and punish a man like this?
"Stay, Ellie. Don't leave me, please." He says again, tightening his arms more around me.
"I'm here, Jerol. I'm not leaving." I respond, playing with his hair.
I don't care whether you call me Ellie or Helena, Jerol. I just want you to be okay. I will be okay with just you being okay.