A goodbye...

I am sad, that's why I am writing this kind of story... Thanks to Ms. Aadya for the sadisticness.Well, some of the extracts are purely fictional rest is my personal experience...

I loved her so much, every day I woke up dreaming about her, every time I think what if she was here what would she say, how'd she react and all that stuff. I didn't really care what everyone else thought about me as long as she was happy. She was everything in this world to me. The days were going fast and good, I could remember her voice from every word she said and imagine the rest from how she would say. I looked up to her through evrey aspect of my insignificant life. Perhaps she could've grown irritant to my such behaviour. If I really cared, I felt way too possesive, if I let her do what she wished, I wasn't responsible, if I tried to talk to her everyday, I was getting a bit too sticky, if I managed to get along without hearing her voice, I was ignoring her, if I did something unusual, I was getting the wrong attention, if I acted normal, I was really boring, if I gave her gifts, it was show off, if I didn't spend much, I was more attracted towards money. and on goes the list of my billions of unsolved mysteries of our love, I was so focused on presenting myself that I went a bit off the track to show what I really was I missed the chance to tell how I really felt, just in the riff-raff of these tons of emotions.

I never had my first date, all I had was a bitter breakup... Nothing goes wrong right from the beginning, at first it felt like a good healthy relationship, no fears, no tears but then the condemned world began to tear us apart in various means possible. But still, there was this one confirmation, actually a feeling of self assurance that lured me back into her sweet dreams and the stinging pain of desperation. A feeling of belief that whatever may be the circumstances she loves me... atleast for now that's what kept me going on in this season of misery. Suddenly the friends felt farther away, the sounds of parents felt like nagging of some inglorious fool. The motivational lectures seemed to be asking for way too much, everything felt so seperated, so different in an unaccountable way. Only her voice felt like the sweet music of angels, her indications seemed to be the supereme command of the highest god, her presence like the meaning of life... I wasn't obsessed with her, just posessed by her and I asked for nothing more as long as I was with her.

Our first plan was to go out on a movie on a free sunday, with her friend. But was put down due to lack of permissions from her parents, I was told that she went out with her brothers that day. I didn't feel betrayed because she had her own genuine reason for not being with me, I just lurked around in my house all day to get rid of her memories and when I felt no way of getting rid of my misery I decided to sleep, and there she was back again in my dreams haunting me with the pain but atleast I was with her even if in my dreams.

My second hangout with her was perfectly portrayed with her at a disco club with many of both of our friends who would be there, it was also another way round to introduce ourselves to each other's circle. The day was going awesome with the thought of being with her. Later at the night everything was perfect. The only wait was for me to go home and change clothes and come back. As I reached home I found my dad's bike broken. I asked him to go alone but he refused simply I revolted but was put dwon harshly later. I was disgusted and told various people that I was not coming in a not so serious tone simply stating that my dad was willing to go tommorrow instead of today. I later slept off crying with the guilt of being born only to hurt her... She forgave me the next day relating to me that she was sad last night, I just wanted to hug her and cry for being such a fool to hurt her, but never could tell her how much sorry I felt. Just said 'm sorry' which I knew was insufficient I perhaps know now that the time she forgave me was also the moment she gave up on me, I regret it still but just can't tell her anything about how I feel because I never did get a chance...

The next day she went out of town with her family and I got overwhelmed by the thought of not talking her and in the mist of my foolishness to try on something new, I drank beer for the first time with my friend though it was not a very sophisticated kind of experience as drunk people usually conquer to but still it was worth being scolded at. But she never scolded me just got more farther away from me than before and in a fog of unknowingness I smoked a couple of cigarettes for the next two days, later I learned from her friend that it was not very good what I'd done and I should be disgusted at what I'd done or atleast she was...

After that it was only on the phone I talked to her on the day she was going out on a trip, I can still recall her voice in my ears, through the thousand disturbances caused in a moving train, I culd still make out her voice saying 'Atul... listen carefully... I know this may hurt you a bit... but... I seriously want to breakup with you... I hope you can understand the reasons...' I possibly knew every possible cause due to which she could have thought of this but couldn't make out the exact reason 'speak something... Atul... say something... are you there...' her voice commanded me to speak again but I was nearly hyperventilating, just taking deep breaths to keep me from falling, my mind was becoming heavier each moment my heart pained even more now, I was perhaps overreacting or showing off till now but as the tears rolled down my cheeks, I became aware that I was not faking it, I was trying very hard to stop nearly dying to forget what I'd just heard, but I couldn't I just couldn't all I could manage was to give a 'hmm...' to her request. We both remained silent for a long pause, the sound of train was now growing up in my head, mearly causing a migrane, the silence was giving me in to nausea but all I could manage to do was cry and sit still, shortly after, the line was cut off from her side and I kept sitting there, moaning silently over my loss...

Everything felt so useless, so imaginary, my heart felt so swollen up all the time since I knew I was not going to see her for a while now and that while seemed to expand to a lifetime. I woke up everyday in tears, slept in tears and the rest was I couldn't even care to notice. Everyday, I looked at the thermocol cutter in front of me wishing that it's sharp blade would just come out instinctively and slice through my wrists but I couldn't gather up enough courage to do it myself when the thought of my parents and the many other people who cared for me, hoped me to never let them down came to my mind.

I saw her after nearly a week in front of me... and a load of motions rushed to my eyes to flow out but I looked down upon the ground in time to let the stupid salty drops kiss the ground without any of that crying stuff. I just wanted to hug her, hold her close to my chest, just wished that I could remain in her arms forever, just wished to die in her lap if that was my last wish but I knew that it would not come true... The teacher is teaching me in the class but I am at a sole corner of the classroom, staring at the sharp blade just wishing to die. I can't bear the pain of being away from her anymore nor I am strong enough to bear the punishment of my crime everytime I see her, but I can't die right now if that would mean hurting her again.

It wasn't on the climate charts today to rain, but here I was dripping with pain moaning in the rain so that my tears were hidden. Soaked with the guilt and her love, I slowly walked over the pools of my mistakes splashing the painful memories of good times every tme I stepped on them. I could see her coming towards me in the rain, my foggy eyes and the blurred vision didn't acknowledge her presence but I knew that it was her who was holding me so tightly something I had wished for so long... I slowly fell down in her arms and my senses slowed down to nearly negligible. She was looking at my face with horrified eyes which I couldn't see but feel. I slowly lifted my hands to her face and heard my own broken voice "god... why do I love you so much?" the flaps of my shirt sticking to my arms gave away at the moment ad I could feel the cold rainrops mixing with my blood oozing out of my wrists. I could hear her screams and all her moans as I lay there in her lap I could feel water pouring onto my face and I knew it was her tears not the rain which was bidding me the goodbyes. I slowly pulled her face close to mine and I could hear her desperate sobs and pleadings just then I could smell her sweet nreath entering my mouth to take off my life with ease I would perhaps be one of the few lucky persons on the Earth to die smiling and happily... Everything faded away, I could still feel my heart beating for her... her, she was the only thing I was remembering right now and I was happy that the last thing I may remember is so incredibly marvellous...

Believe

“Betty Thompson was a normal lady, probably in her mid-forties. She lived a usual life naturally boring. She was a friendly creature, and her life showed no signs of change, until she was run over by a drunken truck driver while she was walking down the lane to her home. She did not die immediately, she was veiling for help, badly injured. She cried out loud until the air in her lungs went out and her heart stopped. No one responded to her voice because they thought it to be their false imagination. She drew her last breath and cursed aloud,’ whoever may walk a road at night alone, shall suffer the rain.’
Later in the day when she was found out, people reported about over hearing her faint voice. According to the stories, she did not take any revenge by killing the truck driver or haunting the people due to their ignorant behavior.
She was only remembered a few years later when a boy was found hanging from a tree, his bones were crushed like he had been hit but the absence of a single mark on his body confirmed that he did not have any such accident or encounter with a vehicle.
Couple of years ago, a girl was found dead on the streets, the doctors confirmed a heart attack, but the fright on her face and the white color of her body triggered the gossips. People said that she must have seen a strange animal, but believers say that she could have seen a ghost. And the most important or rather I must say the interesting thing about these myths is that they both happened on a day when it was raining.”
As I finished speaking I could see the astonishment in the eyes of my companion. If only it had not been raining tonight he would have been more comfortable. The sound of the raindrops falling on our umbrella was sounding like a thousand drums going off. The opera of nature was only fluctuated as my companion tilted his head and asked with fearful eyes, eyes which told me that he had already guessed my probable answer but was still hoping me to confirm it. “Is it true? All of this story which you have been babbling aloud.” Now the fear of the possible negative unacceptable answer was all over his face. Perhaps, he was regretting why he had asked me anyway about this. He could have just suppressed his unnecessary evil fantasies by just crushing them with the “SUCH THINGS DON’T EXIST!!” stone. But now it all depended upon me. And to his surprise I laughed out loud. He seemed so relieved thinking that I had been joking. “It actually depends...” I answered still smiling. “Depends? What are the preconceptions for the truth to be called true?” He asked now more eagerly like a boy goes in a shadowy place knowing danger could be lurking there, but the hunger of knowing out keeps the boy driving him towards his hopeful end…
“Well it depends upon whether you believe it or not. I mean you have to believe in truth if you hope to feel good after telling it or else you just lie in the face of a person.” I explained him in the most inexplicable way. “Well you know about death even if you try not believing in it”, he opposed. “Well everyone believes in death but you don’t recall many people agreeing in supernatural events”, I simply stated. “Well I don’t believe”, he said aloud just to comfort himself or to tell any soul wandering near him. “It’s not what you say, it’s all mugged up in here, it depends what’s inside”, I said tapping my head. “But what if we just for a bit believe in it?” he asked, finally showing signs of mental nervousness. After a long silence I answered, “Even if you come to know that you have started believing just don’t fear.” He sensed reassurance and smiled happily for the first time.
“I want to scare someone right now, it will be such great fun at this time of night”, he said mockingly. “Well you can’t think of tricking me”, I said confidently. “Not you! Someone else”, he said lowly.
Sometime later, we nearly ran into a man, he had hideous eyes. I never saw him while we were coming. Perhaps that was because of his black raincoat, he had curly hair and his face looked ancient. “Aha! You know what?” my less intelligent friend sprang up. “What?” the man said questioningly. “I don’t believe neither should you, or else you’ll suffer the rain”, he said in a mocking way. “Huh!?” the man said confused to what he just heard. “Never mind, you are just a lonely soul about to die in this rain of the forgotten myths” my acquaintance quavered. I looked down ashamed, staring at the flickering images of both of us in the rain water. “Sorry but I think you should go now…” the man said abhorrently.
“See it was so much fun!” he spoke after some steps. “No, it was not”, I said flatly. “But we nearly scared that man like hell, I liked it so much”, he said playfully. “Some great person said that ‘These violent fantasies have violent ends’ you know”, I said sternly. “Oh! Never heard any such thing. Anyways, who said it?” he asked in a delusional way. “William Shakespeare”, I barked back. “Anyways here is my home. Goodbye”, I said and started walking away. “Tada, I hope you don’t believe”, he shouted back.
He lived just two blocks away, as he was walking he saw a woman. He walked up to her and said, “Have you heard the story of Betty Thompson?” “Well, have you heard it?” the woman fired back at him. “Yup I have, but haven’t you?” he asked again to come back at her. “If you have, then you must suffer”, she said. “But I don’t believe in all this”, he said nearly shouting. After a brief pause, a whisper flowed through the trees, “It’s not whether you believe it or not, it’s just that you know the fear to know that it could happen to you.”
Later in the morning, I was awakened by the sound of people in a rush. I also started walking with them. On reaching a place, I overheard that someone was killed here last night and then cut into pieces. I was moved with fear when the possibility of my friend being killed shadowed over me. I moved a step forward, but to my utter confusion, the body over there was not of a man but of a woman. I was dumbstruck for a moment wondering, ‘How close I could have been to death, just escaped my fate from another nightmare of the memories that could have been formed last night. Just an inch away from becoming another confused legend. Thanks to my friend…’ The word ‘friend’ hit me like a brick, my eyes widened with horror and fear of possibility. What if that friend of mine was the ghost! Why didn’t he kill me?
I was interrupted in my thoughts by the sound of people screaming. I saw another body was being lifted down from the ambulance, this time it was a male, face badly crushed. I quickly looked down at the ground with disgust and awe, thinking how wrong I was, that poor fellow was killed himself, how could he be the murderer. I felt sorry for him; I was the cause for his death. If only I wouldn’t have told him all that ‘Betty stuff’. I was no less than a murderer than myself. Poor man, what was to happen of his family? And it slowly dawned over me that my shadow was not there beneath my feet. I grew cold with fear only to realize that the body lying in front of me was my own…
The world appeared to be revolving all around me. Everything appeared to be fuzzy. I wanted to howl at the top of my voice but it would be of no use to me. The only comforting thing was that my friend was not hurt or was he lying somewhere just like my body.
Two legs appeared before my eyes and a manly voice said, “Another one of those stupid stories people will connect these two. Another pair of chapters to that myth…””Do you believe in this officer?” a man asked from behind. I turned back to smile at my friend from last night. His eyes were staring at me, not through me unlike those of the policeman, but still I was comforted that he couldn’t see me. I lowered my head with ease. “No, I don’t believe in all this shit”, the officer answered. My friend fired back in his usual sense, “Actually it’s not that if you believe it or not, nor it’s your fearlessness that could save you.” I looked up, now we were staring into each other’s eyes, he continued, “You know the thing which kills you and haunts you, it’s just that you know the fear to know it could happen to you…”

Do you believe or fear?

Written By: Atul Shrotriya
Edited and ideologies offered by: Jugal Shrivastava
Pre-comprehended By: Rishabh Soni & Vinayak Tiwari