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Three Girlfriends

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I have waited for this day my whole life. Finally, have my dreams come true, or have it not? The year is 2150. Some random place on earth, among elected human beings, he is sleeping nuzzled under a thermally insulated sheet. His room killed all the brightness outside, faultlessly shielded against any noise from a good night’s sleep. Yet, he cannot sleep because the day is special. February 14, 2150. The day he waited his whole life. The day he had earned. He woke up feeling tired from the jittery sleep, but he was harboring all the energy to confront the day. “Time,” he moaned. A holographic display appeared before his face, a little above his head, like a dialogue box in a comic book. It displayed the date and time, his plans and appointments for the day, his heart rate, and finally, his reward points. Reward points: 28540560 He had earned these points his whole life, preserved them, waiting for this day. A recorded voice whispered from the speaker. “Your order is placed. All your vit
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Pangs of Love and Regret

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I didn’t forgive him. I shouldn’t. But when I decided, I couldn’t There it is, on his nightstand, lying the symbol of love-our engagement ring. I had thrown this 24-carat symbol of love to his face a few days back. It had happened in the heat of the moment, a little hasty behavior, but the right one. I fled the house, leaving him stranded with the ring laying on the floor. My attitude baffled him. I drove in my car as fast and long as I could. I didn’t know how far I drove. With the rage running through my veins, I couldn’t recall what I did. When I came back, the house was no longer the same. He was no longer the same. *** He is laying on the couch with his face pointing to the ceiling. His breathing sounded heavy and his eyes are closed. I couldn’t say whether he was tired or upset, but this was his routine in recent days. He no longer looked dapper. His unshaven face, swollen red eyes are testament he is learning from his mistake. To understand pain, one should go through the same.
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Internal Monologue

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A Stranger’s voice inside my head “Kill. Kill. Just do it, you will feel good. Come on! Do it” , I woke up to the wincing pain with a strange metallic voice moaning inside my head. I could easily remember the day it had begun. It was a Monday morning, a few months back, right after my birthday celebration. Life was wonderful until that point in time. Lovable parents, and my caring boyfriend who could easily climb Mount Everest for me, but for now he just climbs my bedroom window. No one was happy as I was in life. “Grab that knife on the table. Your wrist. It will be smooth and you will be relieved. Just do it, you spineless reptile”, the voice shrieked while I sat on the dining table. “You sleep good, honey?”, my mother caressed my hair. Red-shot eyes betrayed my condition. “She is pretending to love you. Stab her instead. The knife is just across the table. Grab it” , “I have to go, getting late for my classes”, I just averted her eyes. My mother will be worried about not eating brea
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A Suicide Note

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Prank Goes Wrong 1 — The Girl “I love your sister” he hung his head low and I couldn’t comprehend his emotions. We stood talking in our regular rendezvous. My sleep-deprived eyes have no tears to shed. All the late-night rehearsals of conveying my love to him on my birthday now shattered. An eerie silence for a long time. Yes, I took time to gather myself. “She is extremely lucky,” I spoke at last. I locked myself in my room, trying to bury all his memories. Time is a curse, especially while in pain. It ceases to pass. Life has become cruel to me in just a matter of minutes. I crawled to my desk, stumbled into the dozens of unpublished stories I wrote which were stacked up neatly in the corner. I pulled the desk drawer, took out the writing pad and sleeping tablets. The bottle emanated under the desk lamp; welcoming me with open arms. My heart sought refuge, the most conventional way to ease the pain. I swallowed. I adjusted the desk lamp and wrote. The words bled, betraying the pain i
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The Cursed Swing

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 They killed her Because She Was Black, Now It's Her Turn Prologue "Playing on the swing is strictly prohibited. Stay away from this play area". This girl ignored the warning sign. Her white skin, freckle cheek, outfit and shoes divulged that she is born elite. She crouched under the "Do not enter" tape, passed over the danger area, sat on the wooden swing. The creaking noise was not pleasing to the ears. The surreal calmness and creepy dense trees around the park made people feel nervous. She didn't pay attention to the ominous signs. Leaves rustled, twigs cracked and a mild breeze brought the girl to reality. The rustling noises grew, which got the girl scared, and she could hear the footsteps approaching her. This time she paid heed to her instincts, jumped down from the swing, ran for her life, leaving the shoes behind. Rumors are true. The haunting woman is lurking around the swing. She hugged her doll, covered her under the blanket while trying to calm
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I Know You Are There

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"Light is easy to love, Show me your darkness" - R. Queen August 14, 2020 I remember the popular quote; "Love is blind, a deaf-mute too". But I believed, love without all that, is no love. What this four-letter word had to do with my life?. On this fateful day, last year, on our 9th wedding anniversary, we lost her. Yaazhi was scorched by fire in this same house. She was 8 years old, cheerful, hyper little girl, arrived to make our life beautiful. After her demise, people suggested selling this house. But how could I erase the last memory of her? We rebuilt the house, and now she was there playing with her doll muffin, running around the house, much alive. I closed my journal after reviving her memory; one year had passed without her, yet I remained the same, a lost mother. A familiar hand touched my shoulder; it was comforting. "Move on, Seema" Dev - my boyfriend turned husband whispered behind me. 1 I checked myself in the mirror, the dark circles beneat
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The Killer Couple

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We are into this together Finally, we have decided to kill them. She was reluctant until now, being an amiable woman. But these criminals are not merciful - invading our privacy, relentless in disrupting our peace; we are not to be merciful either.  We fancied this house for being close to nature - acres of reserve forest one side, never draining lake on the other side, this place is a treasure but also a brewing ground for raiders. They are named raiders because they strike people in groups, particularly after the sunset, raid their houses, show no mercy to neither children nor elders. There were abandoned houses, and no neighbors for at least 100 feet from our place, served us an apparent target. People don't want to live here; remote and tranquil, often gave shivers that someone is staring at them all the time. To add misery, street lights were not working for a long time, our repetitious complaints were inaudible to the authorities through the dense trees. "Honey, we were
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