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.

An Eternal Love Story

I was in his hands,they were soft.
I held his hands and took first steps.
I played with his hands.
They tickled me.
They beat me.
They caressed me.
With time, it changed.
They put mine into another.
At that moment they were calloused.
Now holding his within mine
They were wrinkled.
Cherishing the memories
I shared with him.
I held his, longing to hold it forever.