Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Till Death Do Us Part.

She woke up, breathless. She had had been having nightmares since ages now but this had to be the worst. She had been talking a walk in the garden, humming to herself, really happy. The garden eventually turned thicker, a forest type thicker. A robber suddenly came and grabbed her from behind. She tried to fight back but the grip was too tight. Panicking, she then hit him repeatedly and then heaved a suprisingly heavy boulder at him. It hit him straight on his head and she escaped. All was good for a while as she fled the scene but then she tripped on the undergrowth and fell facedown. This was the point where she woke up. Sweating and still woozy, it took her five minutes to realize where she was. She heaved a sigh of relief. But she realized with a chuckle that she had been thrashing about so much that she had somehow reached his side of the bed. Thank God he had said he would be home late and not to wait up. A kick or a punch in her sleep and he would have never let her hear the end of it. This had been so, so real. She would tell him all about it tomorrow. Her feet were hurting again. She would definitely have to see the doctor about it tomorrow. Oh tomorrow is a long way off, she thought in her sleepiness. She turned over and went to sleep ignoring the faint noises coming from the neighbours. Late nights and young blood.

The telecom operator received a call. "Hello 911?" "Yes, state your emergency?"

He lay there, thinking about what had just happened. He should have listened to her, should have not gone to the party at all. It was taking him all he had to not shut his eyes.

He had crept in noiselessly and had walked straight to the balcony to catch some fresh air (let's be honest, to get rid of the stale cigarette smell before he went back). She walked towards the balcony, towards him with a smile and then right past him. Oh, so this is her way of disapproving, of getting back at me when I go out when she asks me not to, he thought. He did what he always did to cheer her up. He grabbed her from behind. She started thrashing him; it had actually started hurting. He looked at her in alarm - too stunned to say anything. Next thing he knew that the flower pot landed on his face and his head split into two. He collapsed into a pool of his own blood. She ran over the flowerpot debris without stopping and after stumbling on the carpet, fell facedown in her bed. He tried calling after her but his voice was just a faint pleading, a moan.

He lay there wondering whether this was the last mistake of his life. His last thought before he slipped out of consciousness was of all the other mysterious nightly murders that had been happening more frequently than before..

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