Hauntings

I just recently watched a series named Haunting of the hill house. I thought, like any other horror series or movie, it will be funny! I would have a laugh in my mind for every scene that’s supposed to be scary, and move on to something else. Well, I guess not. I am still stuck in the series even though I have finished watching it.

Some imaginary story illustrated in the imaginary world of TV and Film can sometimes have that effect on your mind. You know sometimes… sometimes you are watching a sad scene and tears start flowing down your cheeks without your eyes noticing. And sometimes your heart smiles without your lips noticing. It’s just all an imaginary world that sucks you into it. Lets you play a part in it where you watch it with your eyes while your heart and mind start their work. The work of relating your own memories, fears, guilt and emotions to the world your eyes are watching. But can some series or film be that relate-able that you start living it? Every day, 24/7? Or have you been living it for-ever.. even before you watched it?

I want to write about it. People ask me how was the series and I say oh it’s amazing, I loved it. When no one else seem to like it that much. I guess it’s all in your mind how you take the things you see. Whether you feel the things you see or just watch them. And sometimes, something, out of the blue, triggers your deepest most dark self that you hide behind so many walls. Like demons who lived in that haunted house. When a person dies in that house, he lives there forever. Exactly like every emotion in your mind. And heart. Emotions also die but they live there, inside you forever. They haunt you in the most mysterious ways but they don’t scare you because it’s not a scary movie, you know. It’s you. It’ not supposed to scare you. It’s just yourself. Dead but breathing. The self that you killed thinking you’ll get rid of it. But it’s still there, caged forever inside you. And it WILL haunt you.

I have lived every character while watching it. I have been to the house so many times. I have felt so much pain that could cause the stones to fall from the sky and smash windows of human logic. I have built so many walls around me that no one could enter and i thought i was safe behind those walls but in reality, i was in more danger than ever. I have been terrified of the dark shadows that haunted me, shadows that were only my own reflection in the mirror of time.  I have felt fear, the kind where you see something approaching you, something really bad, but you can’t move. You can’t do anything to save yourself. And that bad thing, it gets closer. And that fear, it gets stronger. So strong that your heart stops beating. And.. I have felt love that poisons you to death.

And I… I wander through the house for hours, with madness that makes me sane. And then I put this madness aside whenever it gets just a little weaker, with every voice approaching me from the outside world. The more I listen to the world outside, the weaker this madness gets. And then I am out, again. In the world… to conquer it. But that house, that dark haunted house, it stays inside me. With it’s firm walls and sensibly shut doors. With silence that sits on the floors while waiting for me, with it’s back against those firm walls.

And me? I promise myself never to go back to the house again. The same promise, that I have broken a hundred times before.

 

 

Wounds That Turned To Wisdom

Credits : This is no dream by Alessio Radice

There was a time when things were different.

At that time, I wasn’t aware how life’d treat me. I was in school when I came home with my first hole. After repressing the pain while I had lunch with my family, I locked myself inside my room and bled for too long.

Then, the next day, I came home with two more holes. One on my upper thigh and the other one on my shoulder. A stinging pain sprout out of them that made my whole body, a wound.

The next day, after returning back home, I left my mother shouting and hustled towards my room while leaving a trail of blood on the white carpet. I slammed my bag on the bed and lifted my shirt in front of the mirror. Half a dozen holes were revealed that dotted my stomach and chest. It was hard, bleeding for hours that day. I needed someone to treat my wounds with gauze. Instead, they were left open. It took half the night to stem the flow of blood and I was exhausted. Excruciating pain was the price of healing.

In the morning my mom made my favorite pancakes for breakfast. I wished she’d have kissed me on the forehead instead of stuffing me with those delicious pancakes.

I returned home that day, more battered than usual, covered with holes from head to toe. I gazed inside my mother’s brown eyes, longing to see the reflection of my holes. Instead, they were filled with every other dilemma our family endured.

I locked my room that day, and stood beside the mirror with blood pit-pattering on the linoleum. The holes looked like tiny flickering tongues. A sucking wound on my back, square between my shoulder blades was hurting me the most. It was too wide, too deep and a gentle touch brought back the memory of my best friend at school. May be that’s why the wound was the worst.

I stood there for too long, dribbling blood on the surface of clean mirror and staring at my face. The taste of loneliness mixed with the sleepless night was bitter. I heard my family talking, my brothers fighting over stupid things. My mother knocked at my room’s door. She waited for an answer but silence was all she could hear while I struggled with my cries, cupping my mouth firmly with both hands. She screamed and called my dad.

I got up, wiped my eyes brutally with one hand while holding a knife in the other. After hiding it under the bed I slammed the door open. My eyes saw fierce expressions on their faces and their lips moved angrily but my ears heard nothing. A shrill sound as if a drill was making a hole in the wood echoed in my head.

After it was all over, I shook my head and locked the door, again. My steps felt heavy as I motioned towards the mirror. The two days old wounds sprang open. Blood spilled out of the crusty scabs that were peeled off.

In the morning, I left the bloodied bed sheets as they were and headed towards school with my head cast towards the ground. I came back that day with more holes but they didn’t hurt that much as they did before. Because, I made dozens of holes that mustered over my torso, to avoid pain from the ones given by others.

“Soon these holes will all turn into scars and they’d be the reminders of how tough I’m“, I thought. The light had started entering inside me, through my wounds.

I bled that day on my bed but the door was wide open. My parents passed by as I lay there, un-noticed, for they had their own monsters to fight with -and I had my own.

“She was not quite what you would call refined.
She was not quite what you would call unrefined.
She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot.”

That was the day I promised myself, that I’ll try to fix my daughter’s holes with gauze, made with love and care. But as they say, life is what happens to you while you are busy making ‘plans’.

Every one of us has to unfold one’s own myths.

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This 695 word story is written for Speak Easy. The task this time was to use “There was a time when things were different” as the first line and to give a reference to a photo that was of parrots. I should admit that, while writing this story, my mind started wandering in my own past and when I read my story now, it seems more like my real life story than fiction. I have decided to leave it unchanged, as it reminds me of my ‘fresh’ old wounds.

This story can be an end, or a new beginning of my writing career. I am getting married this coming Friday and life had been hard on me, lately.

Meet you after my wedding ! Miss me and pray for me, Please. Love you all.

Shadows

Credits: This

He was with me like shadow under the Moonlit skies since I was a baby who’d been in this world for not more than a week. I was certain then, that walls of my room were blue and Lucy, the white cat hated me. And I knew that I shouldn’t cry when my Mom was already crying because she’d not pick me up.

When Mom’d hold me in her folded arms to feed me in the morning, I’d gaze at blue scars beneath her starlit eyes. Those scars’d change their colors and places daily and when I’d try to reach them she’d hold my tiny fingers in her soft hand and tears’d fall on my forehead. She’d whisper in my ear that we’d leave this place soon.

My dad’d smell like medicine when he’d hold me while he’d cut my Mom down with his words. He never left his habits and mom never left this place.

He’d sit beside me with a wooden face, covering my ears with his hands to block the shouts; blades with tiny bayonet pointed firmly at my heart.

I’d laugh when he’d tease me that I broke my head when I was thrown from the sky into the world. Mom never liked him and whenever I’d tell her about him she’d not answer. I’d start talking to him and Mom’d start crying.

We celebrated my 18 birthdays together and he was with me that day when dad brought some quaint people in our house. I heard shouts, dad’s cries were a pitcher of bitterness and mom’s quivering voice tasted of sacrifice.

Dad clamped his hand onto my wrist and pulled me through the lounge where Mom sat squeezed in a corner, mouth covered with hands and tears brimming through her opaque eyes.

Pain paralyzes my mind when doctors pierce needles in my arm and I see his shadow fading into the light of nothingness.

We all have to fade, as we all are shadows on the wall of time.

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This is my 333 words response to Trifecta Challenge. This weeks word was Quaint and we have to use its third definition ( unusual or different in character or appearance : ODD ) in our response. Feedback is always appreciated. Click on the badge to see other entries.

Love, Coffee And Lavender Truffles

Credit:: THIS

“I’ve spent years chasing the tail of my darkness; the same darkness that has once again blurred my vision”, Harry thought, as he lay the phone in its cradle. He’d been expecting this news in quite the same way you expect winter to follow autumn. But just as you can never prepare yourself for bone-chilling winds, you can never prepare your heart for the loss. Poor Ron. His voice had been shaking as he gave Harry the news that Hermione was gone.

Harry cupped his mug of coffee in both hands and sunk into the chair trying to distract his thoughts.The warmth of coffee mug seeped into his fingers as he clutched it and gazed at the deep brown liquid. He wished Ginny had made this coffee. She always had a way of choosing just the right amount of ground coffee beans to use. Since Ginny died after thirty years of passing out from Hogwarts, he never had been to that coffee shop they used to visit together. The coffee shop smelled of musk with a hint of cinnamon that was too close to Ginny’s essence.

He squinted out the window and caught a glimpse of the sun.  He felt a vague sense of whiplash witnessing a sunny day knowing that the earth travels at thirty kilometers per second in its daily trek around the sun and spins zero point five kilometers around its own axis. He remembered Ginny teasing him with all those magic spells when he would spout the mathematical trivia.

Shifting in his chair, he tried to focus his eyes on  Paul Cézanne’s painting ‘The Card Players’ that Ginny had hung on the wall of their lounge three years ago.  The painting looked like it was drowning as his tears welled.  His mind kept straying back to Ron’s call.

Hermione. Her presence on the planet had always been enough for him; it didn’t matter that they weren’t together. They spent her birthdays together every year and he had fulfilled her every wish silently in the form of birthday gifts. Six years in Hogwarts and six birthdays, one year for every day it takes the moon to orbit the earth with a speed of 3680 km/hr.

He recalled one of her birthdays when he took her to The Wonderland following the footsteps of Alice. He had allowed himself to swim, just for a few minutes, in the depths of her azure eyes making a straight angle of 180 degrees that day. They wandered there all day meeting the king and queen of hearts, Mother bird, Mary Ann and white rabbit, all her favorite characters and they celebrated her birthday with special lavender truffles that were made of rich dark chocolate infused with lavender and cardamom and some flavors of hot chocolate.

Even though she only glanced over her shoulder when he took her back to Hogwarts, he waited. And hoped, like the forever unknown ‘x’.  But two months later, Hermione and Ron announced their engagement and Harry knew he waited in vain.  He mustered his strength to achieve an escape velocity. With time as he settled into his new trajectory around Ginny, he felt Hermione’s gravitational pull for long.

But now Hermione had succumbed to the cancer that had been wreaking havoc on her for five years. Memories:  that’s all he would have of her now.  Maybe that’s all he ever had.

He pushed his chair away from the table and decided to get ready. He had to meet Miss J. K Rowling to make a quick apology and he was sure that she’d forgive him.

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Note: The characters Harry, Ron and Hermione are JUST characters. I took these names because their background history was already clear to you. You can take them as characters of Harry Potter OR some other people who studied in Hogwarts, choice is your’s but please don’t read this story as a continuity to the Harry Potter stories.

This is my 598 words response to the Speakeasy weekly writing prompt, which is to write a piece in 750 or less words  (1) using “I have spent years chasing the tail of my darkness.” as the first sentence, and (2) make some reference to the art prompt, The Card Players, one of a series of paintings by Paul Cézanne.

The challenge is open to anyone, so if you’re inspired, click the badge below to check out the challenge details!

 

The Magnificent Woman

Source

I am in love with that wonderful women who performs on the stage and people hold their breaths, their hearts skip the beats and magic of her glory en-wraps them in ecstatic joys — People say that she knows spell of bewitchment and she makes people unconscious by casting it but I don’t believe this, her magical beauty is mysterious enough to get entranced in.

She has booked a room that was abandoned for forty years, the room that is well known by a story that a woman burnt herself and her child here, forty years ago.

I can hear my own foot steps as I walk towards her room, my heart beats in my ears and I feel shivers while walking through that dead silent corridor but my fear is invaded over by excitement to meet that magnificent lady.

The door opens with an unfamiliar noise, tearing apart the intense silence — There lies a coffin in the center of an empty room and I am in a trance of that glowing beauty again as I open the cover.

I try to pull her out wondering who may have imprisoned my love inside the coffin, when I feel my leg clutched by tiny hands — I turn around and see a small child looking towards me with pain in eyes… Everything went dark.

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A Flash fiction written for Lillie McFerrin Writes : Five Sentence Fiction – Clutch. We have to include the word “clutch” in our story and take inspiration from the photo given. Five sentences is what this challenge requires, no word limit. Click on the link if you want to participate.

Cannibal

Source: Joycreations.

His sharp knife pierced through the flesh and cut it to pieces at a single jerk. It was the lower part of a leg. Upper part was already cut. A head smoothly cut apart from the neck was laying at a corner of the table. Small pieces about the size of 3 inches each were arranged along the sides. After cutting the leg into similar pieces he put them along with the others.

Then he leaned towards the head and pulled out the eyes, one by one with the tip of his knife. He saved the eyes in a small glass bowl and licked the stains on his fingers.

After that,he pulled in some air, grabbed a big bucket in both his hands and started pouring a viscous red fluid into the bottles, one by one. When all the bottles got filled, he closed the lids tightly and put them one by one in the lower shelf of his almost empty fridge, a single half filled bottle of this red fluid was already lying there. Head was placed on the first shelf and finely cut meat pieces went on the middle ones.

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He opened his eyes while laying under the blue sky and green grass midst a row of long trees. After his blur vision got clear he realized that he was present in an alien place. Wiping off his hands he stood up.

The last thing that was saved in his vivid memory was a fight with her mom and he ran away from home after that. “It’s been two days, she must be worried for me” He thought to himself, setting the school bag on his shoulder.

He gazed for a while at a light shining far away at the end of the long road and followed it. It was coming out from a bulb hung on the roof of a small wood house. He knocked at the door and pushed it inside.

The door opened with a sharp squeak. He glanced inside, a man was sitting on a chair. A glass half filled with a red viscous fluid was lying on the table in front of him. “Can I come inside?”

An evil smile occupied his face. “Yes kid, come in !” He said in a heavy voice and locked the door behind him.

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Daily Prompt:show us CLOSE.

This story is written for Write on Edge. This challenge gives us two options, whether to write about the quote or about the photo. I chose the photo. Click on the badge to see complete guidelines and to participate.

Twinkle Twinkle O’ Little Star

A story dedicated to my family where the number of mentally abnormal children is increasing due to the trend of Cousin marriages. Story is inspired by my cousin, a girl who is 20 year’s old physically but her mind is like a small child’s mind. Scenes pictured here are fictional but the facts discussed are real.

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Image Source : This.

“Colors – red, green and blue mixing with each other. Green color is at the top of red now. Red is busy mixing with blue”

“How can you guarantee that in future your daughter’s children would be normal when her own sister is abnormal?”

Silence – followed by tears.

“Sorry we can’t allow the relationship of my son with your daughter. He will find someone else”

“Colors – Red is at the top now. It has dissolved blue and green in it”

Sound of a slap followed by mournful cries.

“Colors transformed to black . Painful black”

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“She slapped me yesterday, My own sister. I won’t talk to her now. She thinks I can’t feel the pain but it hurts. She is not good and oh the cat finally ate the mouse” She thought to herself and giggled.

Her sister who was siting right beside her, eyes on TV and mind strolling somewhere else glanced at her, giggling. She felt a volcano of love bursting in her heart and a sense of regret mixed with embarrassment seized her.

“What was I thinking while slapping her yesterday? She is innocent, that’s not her fault that no one wants to Marry me” She dragged herself closer to her and kissed her on the cheek softly.

“I am sorry my love. You can’t speak but I know you are angry at me” She hugged her and burst into tears.

“I love my sister, she is so sweet. She loves me so much” She thought to herself while enjoying the cartoons again.

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“A heavy burden on my heart don’t let me sleep at nights”

“What burden Mom?”

“You know sweetheart your sister is a special child. Our society don’t accept her as a normal child. People think she is crazy and she should be in a mental hospital. How can I send my innocent girl to a mental hospital?”

Each tear falling from her Mother’s eyes was dropping in her own heart – her eyes flooded with tears.

“Some things can’t be forgotten and this very thought keep spooking me all the time that What will happen to my daughter when me and your dad will be no more in this world”

“Please don’t Mom. Please stop” She begged her and the room reverberated with the sound of their sobs.

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“Colors – butterflies – stars – lights – children, beautiful children – I want to play”

With this thought she ran towards small children playing in the kids area in a fast food restaurant while her Mom was buying Ice cream for her.

She looked around, her daughter was standing beside some children who were gathered in a corner with expressions of fear and anger on their faces.

She ran towards her. A woman said “I don’t mean to offend you but please make sure she stays home. Our children just got scared”

She grabbed her hand and took her to the car without saying anything, eyes directed downward with embarrassment.

Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes

And she’s gone

Lucy in the sky with diamonds

Music was blending with her sobs.

She put her head on her Mother’s shoulder and spoke in a soft voice, “Ma ! Sor-r-ry”

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Many beautiful special children in colorful dresses were standing on the stage in a circle. She was there too laughing, sitting inside the circle wearing a fancy fish dress. A wheel chair was lying at one corner of the stage with a small cute girl sitting in it.

Hall was filled with people. Parents of special children occupied the front rows.

The girl in the wheel chair spoke:

“We are like a fish in the tank. The sun heats the glass to boiling, setting us on fire. The moon freezes it to ice, trapping us in unbearable cold. Tapping vibrates the glass, tearing at our ears and flesh. It is agonizing and exhilarating and enthralling. Don’t be like the sun and the Moon people. Be like the glass that protects us and like the water that keeps us alive…….We feel joy and pain equally like you feel. Your words and actions hurt us people. Treat us with care. We need your love”

And the hall echoed with the sound of applause. People stood on their chairs, tears shining in their eyes.

“I wish my daughter gets a chance to live a normal life like everyone else here” She thought to herself while wiping her tears.

Image Source : This.

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This 720 words story is written for The Speak Easy Challenge. If you like this story, Don’t forget to come back on Thursday to vote. Click on this image to read other entries and detailed guidelines.

Moon, Moon on the sky…….Watch Me Die

“Moon, Moon on the sky,

Hold me up, take me high

Clench your sigh, watch me die”

A morbid smile conquered her calm face. Calmness that escalates after a big storm passes, or when one is about to come.

“Have you ever talked to the moon?” Without glancing at me nodding head in negation, she continued.

“I have, It is my only companion since I was 5. It was my hero, a mysterious bewitching radiant ball of light. I played with it, told my secrets to it and slept in it’s shadow. And then…. and then it started playing with me” Her voice turned quivery.

“I got tangled up in it’s myth. In the full moon nights I feel supernatural. A nice sharp feeling starts cutting inside me and my hollowness grows. Instead of blood, loneliness comes out and I swear, It is more horrendous,  dreadful. It pierces my soul….It aches, It hurts !”  I felt tears mixing with her voice.

“Today’s a full moon night” I thought to myself. Shifting my eyes from the moon towards her, I realized – She was gone.

A werewolf was standing right beside me.

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A post written in response to Daily Prompt: Heroic and also for Five Sentence Fiction – Moon.

The Red Letter

“No-way, this is not possible !” She screamed…..

Her soft breaths gradually converted to heavy fast storms. Her heart beats were drumming in her ears as if they’ll tear apart her ribs. She could feel uncountable needles stabbing in her head. She fell down……

“Not again, No” She was crying and shrieking hysterically.

“What happened Mama?” Her 7 years old son, Ali, came running towards her.

She looked at his face, she couldn’t. Grabbing his hand she pulled him towards herself and embraced him in her arms.

“Nothing My Love, I won’t let anything happen to you” Gazing at the red letter in her hand, she sighed.

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Rachael was drowned in the valley of thoughts while Ali was sleeping right beside her. Windows were closed and the room was dark and silent. Sometimes a gust of frosted wind would scatter the silence with its whispers.

They were a happily-ever-after family 7 years ago. Ali wasn’t born by that time. Her two sons and beloved husband shared the same house where today, silence regulates.

When Rachael received this red letter for the first time, she was unknown of the consequences. She came to know when the very next day, her husband met an accident and he passed away.

She was scattered. She would never have related the death to that letter if one by one, both her sons wouldn’t have passed away in the same mysterious manner.

She was sure there was ‘something’ behind all this. Something esoteric, something inexplicable.

And now she had received that red letter again. Her baffled mind started freezing with the weather.

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A sound woke her up. She felt like she had heard a whisper. She checked Ali, he was sleeping. She checked the time, it was 2 o’ clock at night.

A sudden sharp cracking sound outside the window startled her. Her heart beat and pulse rate were at a race. She slipped towards the window slowly and peeked through the glass. She couldn’t see anything. It was dark and calm.

She took a long sigh.

She turned back. A panic-stricken scream welled up and burst out of her mouth. Her eyes bulged out with shock and dark condensed clouds blocked her mind.

The bed was vacant, Ali was gone.

A furiously loud knock at the door drummed in her ears……

To Be Continued……….

On Her Birthday

“‘Whatever’ was the reaction of your Mom when I first proposed her, but I didn’t stop trying” Speaking in a soft low voice he seemed to be lost in thick layers of mist while travelling down the memory lane.

“My heart will go on……“ The song was playing in the background. She was working as usual, I was looking at her as usual. It was the third time when I planned to propose her, I was serious this time.

It was the same day, the day of her birthday. I asked her to come out, she did. It was raining. Rain drops were shimmering on her glowing skin. I came closer and took out a diamond ring from red velvet box. Her face expressions changed. I sat on my knee, moved up my hand with the diamond ring and said, “Marry Me M’Love“.

She leaned some steps backward. The shine on her face turned pale. I got worried. She never reacted like that. She was nodding her head sideways and she started walking, turning her back on me. She wanted to hide her tears, I noticed them dissolving in the rain drops.

I ran after her, grabbed her hand from behind and pulled her towards myself.

“Why? You have to give me a reason today“.

She looked into my eyes for some seconds and her voice quivered as she spoke, “I am at the last stage of cancer”

The world paused. My heart forgot beating. My breaths were stuck in my throat.

She gave a dull smile and said, “I expected the same“.

I stepped forward, pulled out the ring, slipped it into her finger and said, “My Love for you is beyond any expectations“.

She died on her birthday two years after our marriage.

Sometimes she’d say to me, “You are my pride. Your Love gives me strength. I can die peacefully in your Love’s embrace”

His tears fell on the birthday cake in his hands as he blew off the candle.

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This 333 words story is written for Trifecta Challenge. This week’s task was to use the third definition of WHATEVER in a story of words between 33 and 333. Voting here starts on Friday, so if you liked my story don’t forget to vote.

Story Of A One-Eared Theif

There was a loud crash in the hallway. My thumping heart missed a beat. By the time I had collected enough gold jewelry while they were still snoring.

My name is Jim and I am a renowned thief. I have earned quite a fame by the name of one-eared man. This is the story of how I lost my ear.

With the idea of taking a break from stealing, I once decided to tuck away in some place afar. I took my belongings and hid in a truck that was leaving for an unknown location. I dozed off and when opened my eyes, I was laying at a place that was alien to me but very beautiful, with greenery all around. Beautiful flowers were smiling and the sun embraced me with its light. Chilled wind tickled me and I started roaming.

Wandering in this beautiful valley, I saw a small house. My thief-nerves gave me an alarm and I headed towards it. I broke in from the rear door and cloaked myself behind the curtains in one of the rooms. The moment I decided to come out, a bulky woman entered the room.

She was wearing a white shining silk dress with white gloves on her hands. Big gold ear-rings were hanging down from her ears and a gold pendant was caressing her neck. The thing that terrified me wasn’t the dress, but the voices she was making. She sat on the bed and started crying hysterically. She was swinging her arms in wide arcs and stretching out her own hair with her hands. The dry skin on her hands was tanned like leather. She was speaking loudly in a language that I wasn’t able to comprehend.

My legs started trembling and I was covered in sweat from head to toe. I was cursing the time when I decided to take a break, when a girl entered the room. She sat beside the woman and put a pot filled with smoke in front of her. Within seconds, the woman’s voices started lowering down gradually. She was calm now.

“We should prepare the lunch” The girl spoke in a creamy voice and the woman nodded her head.

I caught a glimpse of the girl. She was young, wearing a red velvet long dress and her black hair were tied in a pin. She was wearing gold bangles and ear-rings too. I was charmed by her beauty.

The circumstances convinced me that the woman was under a magic spell. After some time my fear was conquered by greed. The luster of gold jewelry they were wearing blind folded me and I decided to leave this house at night along with  jewelry.

“Stealing from two bare handed women can’t be that difficult”, I thought to myself.

I peeked into the hallway. It was dark. The woman’s snores were piercing the silence. I entered the room after making sure that they both are under the influence of deep sleep. I started removing slowly, the gold pendant and then both the gold ear-rings from the woman’s ears. Her ears were thin and brown as coffee beans. After putting them in my bag, I went closer to the girl, an innocent beauty. My hands shivered while removing her bangles and other jewelry.

As I finished, A loud crash in the hallway destroyed the peaceful silence. I ran towards the hallway to stop the sound. My eyes bulged out and a scream was stuck in my throat, as the vision became clear. A gigantic man with black long mustache like tail of an elephant was standing right in front of me.

He came closer and the bag of jewelry fell down from my hand. He grabbed my neck in one hand and my ear in the other. I smelled the scent of death. He pulled out my ear forcefully and with in a moment my ear was in his hand. A burning sensation filled my head. My screams woke up the women. They stood in the doorway with expressions of shock on their faces.

“RETURN THIS” he growled pointing his finger towards the bag. I grabbed the bag, handed it to the girl and ran out of their front door.

That was my last theft, the first unsuccessful one.

That giant man was the women’s son. That woman was sick. And that beautiful girl is my wife now….

Sometimes weirdest things in life turns out to be the best ones and weird people, the best mates !