Dark

The author of the most prestigious horror series decided to take a break. To escape from all the paparazzi and cacophony, he chose to stay at the lake house owned by his family for generations. Even though he hated the place so much, it was his only option.


The trees outside swayed with creepiness. And the winds quavered queerly. Alone, he decided to watch a movie. “Dark”, a cassette on the shelf read. Unable to find anything else, he played it on. “You call this horror, duh” he chuckled after watching it for some time .


He was awoken by a scream. The TV was on and screeching, assuming the cassette was stuck, he switched it off and went to the kitchen to grab something to quench his hunger. While he was in the kitchen, he felt the scream as real as ever. He began to ponder about it and accidentally poured the milk on the floor.


“Arghhh”, he grumbled. While cleaning it, to his bemusement he heard the scream once again, a shrill one compared to the first. His instinct made him feel unsafe but as an author who writes the most overrated eerie stories his curiousness won over. He grabbed his jacket and scrambled outside and ran in the direction of the scream.


The woods seemed to be waiting for its prey,  their eyes followed the running man towards the shabby bridge near the lake. The scream died when he reached there. Breathless from all the running, he searched for the source. His eyes fixed on a girl far ahead of the lake, she was gasping for air and drowning.



Without a second thought, he jumped on the ramshackle boat hoarded near the bridge and grabbed the moss-covered oar, and started to row towards her. He kept his eyes on the target but his oar got stuck in some weed beneath and he lost the direction.


He kept on rowing until he reached the point where he had seen the girl. He looked around and saw the hem of the girl’s dress, afraid she might have drowned, he rowed vigorously and leaned over and got hold of it.


He pulled hard but fell back and realized that he was holding on to a torn piece of dress. “That’s mine”,  a voice was heard. He got startled and turned around to see a girl sitting on the other side. His mind was in utter shock. A cold eerie breeze brushed past her, he glanced at her dress and saw it was torn apart. The full moon shone bright and he was bewildered. She was legless. He felt a chill at the back of his neck. He glowed at her in terror realizing that he was in a story he will never be able to write.

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Well Played

Our story began smoothly with a ‘hai’.

I was writing it.

The first few chapters were heart throbbing.

Words were inspired by him.

Secrets started to spill.

The Chapters started to get filled with passion.

And the story urged with heat.

Fate wrote the lines to destiny.

The destiny I had wished for us.

I was wrong.

I realized the last chapter was already written.

He was already in his “happily ever after”.

He was the author and I was just a pawn.

Sinister

Woke up bemused by the piano read in my dream, it was uncanny.

Coming to my sense I heard the same music being played from my garage.

I was petrified realising that I was alone in a house without a piano.

Broken Vow

“For better or for worse”

I paused,

“I am letting you go”.

Rejection

It was the first time.

The first time I got rejected.

Unexpected, it broke me apart.

It felt like a thousand stones weighing

down my heart.

She said no.

Even though she knew

it was my favourite choclate bar.

Lose and Lost

Standing in the place where the alley once stood, he reminisced their first kiss. “I miss you”, he etched on a brick in the debris.  It’s been 8 years. One night had changed his life. Shattered everything. But the debris remained. He threw the rock and walked away in grief. The rock fell near something that shimmered in the scorching sun. It was a promise ring.

Transition

Loving Myself

Loneliness was something everyone gifted me.

The gift which I dreaded the most.

I used to lament a lot.

But it turns out it is a gift not everyone can get.

I discern now it is the path to silence.

And silence is the language of the Souls.

I am ecstatic realising myself after all.

Silent Killer

‘Expectations’ brought me a friend ‘Joy’, but his enemy, ‘Depression’, stalked me till I shedded tears whose girlfriend, ‘Pain’, slowly wrecked me until I was no more.

Covert Hands

The soothing voice of the winds sung me lullabies every night,

freezing it may seem but the ground was warm enough for me.

The sweetness of the fruits presented the essence of true love I missed.

I too had glistening stickers on the ‘sky roof’, they all glinted and gifted me goodnight kisses.

My mother may have left me but mother nature feels me,

she heals me and says I will protect you, my child, I will cherish you for yours is a precious life.

Man’s Best Friend

He dug the ground so hard,
it took more than 6 hours to reach the same level,but it didn’t matter to him because he could now sleep beside his owner like he used to every night.

Reality

I opened my eyes.
Couldn’t adjust  the light
They closed.
the warm hands of sun
paced through the pores
and panes
and touched my skin
it was so bracing.
like a mother.

I got tickled
by the cold breeze
that brushed past
my hair as if it
wants to play with me
like a friend.

I felt loved by
sweet chirping of birds.
they sang a lullaby
and kissed me to
an alluring day.
like a lover.

But it all lasted for a sec.
They were shadowed
by tumultuous clouds
whose tears plummeted
Deep into my heart
it was abysmal
like loneliness .

I felt like a dross .
A day passed
and I realized all of it
was within me
It was just my fractious mind
it was just my mind.
just an illusion.