The House That Longed for December — Short Fiction Part 2

Photo by Stormseeker on Unsplash

Dev’s life could be carried in three boxes. One for his clothes, one for his books, one for his memories. Still, he dreaded the shifting process. His second visit to the house was even more disappointing than the first. The paintings in the bedroom had not been scrubbed off or painted over. The faces still stared at him, draining his spirit, or whatever was left of it.

On the fifth attempt, the broker picked up the call. “Sir, don’t worry, the owner has promised to paint it over before the new year,” the broker reassured Dev.

“That’s still a month away,” Dev said with his eyes wide open, this is not going to happen. The broker stood firm in his stance and ended the call. He wasn’t going to pick up the next call, Dev knew.

He took matters to his own hands and closed the room, locking it, never to open it again. I could live without that room.

The biggest hassle of moving to the new house was lighting it. There was hardly any light coming into the house, even with the windows and doors open. It took him a ton of time and money to get the house lit up enough to be visible at night.

Should I look for a new home? Dev thought to himself, putting down his last set of packages, pushing it to a corner, left to be untouched forever.

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A week passed by.

The house grew on Dev.

His bedroom was a world of its own, spending a large chunk of time moving between his bed, his study table where he stared at his laptop, and then back to bed. His daily routine would extend to the living room and the garden. Yes, there was a garden now. Mrs Sheela, a lovely woman in her 60s who always walked down the street to take her grandchildren to school, gave his house a discerning look and returned with a few rose saplings one day.

“Give it a try, it may help make the house look more homely,” She said, passing the saplings.

“Thanks,” Dev replied bewildered at how to respond to this unsolicited kindness. Should kindness be asked for, or be expected? he thought.

“I was planning on popping in to say hello,” Dev said, embarrassed about not meeting them while moving in. “But got really busy with the shifting.”

“Oh, no worries. I was telling my husband we should visit our new neighbour, glad we could at least meet today,” she said smiling.

“Pleasure is all mine,” Dev responded, shaking his head, glad to find a new company in the area.

“What do you do? Are you working?”

I am a writer Dev wanted to say with a puffed chest. But he didn’t find anything to be proud of in that. He was just a normal kid who won a short story competition in his school, planting the notion that he was a gifted writer. Deep down, he knew he was just another con artist pretending to be something he was not. The publisher’s rejection letter affirmed it. He stopped counting after twenty.

“I work at the state school, joining early next year,” he said, swallowing the ugly truth. Ever since his parents died, Dev hadn’t come out of his apartment. Losing his job, friends and a bunch of his savings. His friend who worked at the ministry begged him to take this job, to find a life outside his apartment. He pulled a lot of strings to get him a job at the state school far away from the city so that Dev could have a new beginning, away from the memories of his parents.

“Oh that’s wonderful, my grandchildren study there. I walk them to school every day,” Mrs Sheela said surprised by the news.

“Yeah, I’ve seen them, they are so happy around you” Dev said, a shadow of the past crossing his face before it returned back to normal.

“Their parents leave them with me when they are out of town, I love their company dearly,” she said, tears filling her eyes as she smiled at their innocence.

“OhI’ve taken up too much of your time. You may have a lot to do, I’ll be on my way,” she said, making her way down the road to her home.

“Have a good day,” he called out, looking at the rose saplings in his hand. How long will it take to make this house homely?

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Christmas was on the horizon.

He still stared at the laptop screen. Not a drop of letter.

Mrs Sheela would occasionally visit his garden, checking on the roses. He met a few other neighbours, who all seemed enthusiastic about the new dweller. What a lovely neighbourhood, he would think often.

Nights, however, had not been so relaxing. The deeper into December it got, his bed started to feel like ice. He had never relied on a heater and still didn’t know if he should buy one now.

One such night, he got a visitor.

He remembered waking up, his blanket on the floor, and a woman in golden nightwear walked up to him. He knew someone who wore the same nightwear. The red petal patterns on it were etched in his memory. His mother stood by the bedside, pulling up the blanket from the floor, covering her son like she used to do when he was young.

“Sleep tight, my child”.

Dev would wake up to the same dream for another three days. Almost as if he was reliving the same night over and over. But one night was different.

The door to the room with the paintings was open.

Dev stood puzzled. He remembered closing it the day he moved in. He had never opened it since. No one else had come inside either.

Is there a cat somewhere, he wondered, looking around to find the imaginary cat that would open the door. There was nothing to be found. He was the only living thing in the house.

The door to the room remained ajar as he went closer. The glimmer that caught his attention on day one, did the same again. He couldn’t back out. This time, he had installed a bulb in the room, lighting it up completely. He walked in with a newfound courage.

The same faces that welcomed him on the first day, stared at him again. A lot of them. He searched the room, but still nothing.

But his eyes were drawn to something else. A face in the wall that looked so familiar. There was no mistaking it this time. Mother? was his first thought. No, this face looked recent, he had met her yesterday. Mrs Sheela.

What? Dev reached out to touch the face but took a few steps back. Am I dreaming? he thought, trying to wake up, but he was not.

He walked out of the room straight to the garden locking the room and the main door behind. But it did not help. The face followed outside, this time smiling and talking. He wasn’t listening to anything Mrs Sheela was saying, his mind wandering about.

“Son, are you alright?”

“Yes, yes…” Dev looked back at the house, he then turned and hastily moved towards her. No.

“There’s faces…,” his thoughts trailed off.

“I don’t understand, did something happen to your face?” she looked worried, moving her hands toward him with motherly care.

“There’s a painting of you on the bedroom wall,” Dev managed to speak out a complete sentence.

“Painting?” Mrs Sheela asked, still sorting out what happened to the young man.

“The girl painted your face on the bedroom wall.”

“Dear, what are you saying? what girl?”

“The girl who lived here before me? You’ve never met her?” Dev stared at her eyes. Has everyone gone mad?

Nobody has lived here since I was born,” she said holding his shoulder as she saw him trembling, missing his footing, falling on his knees.

The roses started to shed their petals one by one.

So did his life.

The House That Longed for December – Short Fiction Part 1

Photo by Patrik László on Unsplash

Five had always been a lucky number for Dev. Until his parents died on the fifth of May earlier that year, which coincidently was also his birthday. So, no matter what, he would rent the fourth house the broker would show him today.

He got out of his car, the early morning winds of the bitter December welcomed him to the new neighborhood. Dev gently walked toward the overly joyful broker waving at him from across the street. What could make a man so energetic at 8 in the morning? Dev thought as he lazily waved back without a smile.

“Glad you could make it,” the broker greeted Dev with a strong but calming handshake. Money Dev responded to his previous thought.

“Yeah, a little early for house hunting isn’t it?” Dev said, taking a look around the area. He could hear the bustling voices of children getting ready for their school and the parents yelling at those still asleep. I also miss my bed. 

“I know, such short notice, but I must say, you are very lucky,” the broker replied, clapping his hands as though he was about to show a magic trick. “Not just one house, I have two houses to show you today. All in the same neighborhood.”

“Oh”, Dev had been looking for a space to rent for the past six to seven months, with no luck. The winter cold has made him determined to have a solid roof above his head.

“Right this way” the broker guided him to his white-painted house that stood majestically with a garden filled with roses. I’d love to call this place my home Dev thought as the smell of the flowers hit me on his first step to the house, reminiscing about his childhood home and his parents. How could a lovely object bring such painful memories

“This way, please”, The broker waited at the door, staring at Dev, who stood at the gateway, eyes closed. 

Dev walked in. The two bedrooms and the kitchen easily outshined his run-down apartment. Not to mention the extravagant living room which was already furnished with a newly-looking couch and tables, that he couldn’t afford in a long time. It was perfect.

He planned on placing his 32″ TV facing the east, so he could comfortably place his coat hangers near the door without stumbling on his way in.

He was happy, for the first time since the winter started. He was. Until the broker decided to announce the rent for it. 


“Rs 50k per month,” he proudly told him. Dev’s heart sank, he felt the house was laughing at him, you cannot afford me, peasant.

“No, no” Dev shook his head, disappointed, irritated. “I agreed on 25k max.” He walked out of the house, smile vanished. 

“Oh don’t worry sir, I was just showing you how lovely the place was, the actual house is just opposite the road. The broker came out and pointed to the house where Dev parked his car. 

There were no gardens or roses to welcome him, rather the stench of overgrown grass pushing him away. 

The house looked okayish, nothing like the dream home he had just seen. The broker waved his hands for Dev to step in, the room was dark, with sunlight slowly hitting the walls and reflecting on the darker corners that remained. 

There was no furniture this time, no fans, bed, lights, appliances. He had to buy everything from the start, which can cost more than what he can afford if the rent is not right.

“Any chance to get within 25?” Dev asked, half-heartedly, with no intention to choose, even if it did. 

“That’s why you are lucky, it will only cost you 10K per month,” The broker replied. 

“What?” Dev stood shook, no owner in the right mind would rent this house for that low, no one that’s normal. 

“Who died here,” Dev questioned taking a step forward to the broker. “Did someone murder anyone here?”

“My dear sir, no one died here, nobody was killed here, do not worry about that,” the broker said brushing past Dev into the kitchen. Dev followed him closely past. 

“Then why is it so low,” Dev queried again. 

“This place, the construction is not completed yet,” the broker led him to a scaffolding, that was the kitchen. The room was hardly finished, with bricks and cement still lying out on the floor. The entire area was well shut with no doors to go to the backyard. 

A room was there, but no one would call it a kitchen.

“The owner has a lot of financial issues, he is not able to sell due to some cases and the only way is to rent it out.” The broker continued, convincing Dev. “Believe me, sir, many people have already rented this place, a person just vacated yesterday, that’s why I called you early today before someone else got the wind of it and snatched it away.”

Dev stood, collecting the possible excuses to not choose the house. This was the fifth house he saw topped the list he could think of. 

If his excuses to leave and reason to stay were put on a scale to balance, one side would weigh down easily. It won’t be his excuse. 

“Alright. I will take it,” Dev sighed, I’ll bite he thought. 

“Wonderful sir,” the broker jumped with joy, “let’s go to the office and finish the paperwork,” he walked out the door not bothering to wait. 

Is this the place I will be calling home? Dev sighed kicking off the dust from his pants, looking around. He picked up his phone to take a few photos of the house before he left. 

On his third click, he caught a strange glimmer on the bedroom wall. A mirror? He peered through the door, opening it, adjusting his eyes to the darkness. He held out his phone torch to the corner. He took light steps, not wanting to disturb anything that didn’t want him there. 

The torchlight now hit the walls, and when the lights reflected, Dev took a few sudden steps back. 

“What!” he called out, nothing but the air coming out. Faces. or paintings of faces. Drawn on the wall. If he was standing on a museum floor, he would have admired how detailed the art was. But this was going to be his home and the drawings did not impress him. 

He turned around. The painting covered the entire bedroom. This is not right, his phone slipping down from his sweaty hands. He rushed out, catching the broker before he got in the car. 

“There’s faces in the bedroom wall,” Dev exclaimed, a little out of breath. “Many faces.”

“Oh, don’t worry sir, that’s nothing to bother about,” the broker waved him off.

“What do you mean by not to worry,” Dev raised his tone offended by the broker’s dismissal. “There’s faces of people painted on the walls of the bedroom.”

 “Sir let me explain,” The broker spoke, lowering his tone, relaxing his body. “The last person just vacated yesterday, she was an artist, a gifted one. I’ve seen her works, such amazing talent. She drew them, I saw them too, they look fabulous.” 

Dev stared at the broker who kept convincing him not to worry about anything. 

“Let’s do one thing, sir,” The owner lifted his phone, “I’ll talk to the owner and get the room painted so it won’t be trouble for you, what do you say?”

He was not convinced, but he nodded and got in his car. He looked at the house through the windshield.

It was faces, who would paint faces on the wall? 

He was half relieved from what the broker told him. Another excuse to keep him tied to the house. 

He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t have any more money.
He didn’t feel at home.

Yesterday Night- Part 2

This is the contiunation of the the story Yesterday Night. To read the part 1 :Yesterday Night – part 1.


“You there, get up” a hoarse voice startled Mahinder from his sleep almost jolting him down the bench, His head was ringing from the maddening sound inside his ears calling him awake.
“Go find somewhere else to sleep.” Mahi felt an arm fall upon his shoulder before he could respond to a major force made him consider his balance, slowly falling to the pavement. By the time he could manage to clear the head and look up, the City park Security guard had already made his way further the road.
Did I sleep here last night? Mahi asked himself, from what he saw the last night, nothing felt real anymore. Who knew his greatest fear would be seeing himself from a third-person view, repeating exactly what he did last night. Was it all real or just the brain damage, He kept asking himself the same question from last night.
Surely I didn’t sleep here last night, Mahi kept on thinking as he walked away from the bench. He met the main street that had rose even before him, now crowded with working men and women, children who were rushing to their school. Vehicles that raced through the black roads. He felt something eerie in the air, almost as if eyes were watching him. The feeling he had when the stranger followed him that night. Stranger? People shared their looks at him, the man who was cleaning his store, the girl who was waiting for the bus, the woman who held her bag tightly when he walked nearby. Why are they looking at me? I am overthinking, there is nothing unusual. I must have had a bad dream. Yesterday night must be a nightmare I had. But how did I sleep in the park? Everything felt real.
He tried to cross the street when he clutched onto his pockets finding his mobile vibrating. ‘Principal’ the caller was named, he made a run for the other end when the horns came from both sides.
“Where are you, Mahi?” a softer voice much better than the one that woke him in the morning. The school principal, why is she calling me now, he looked onto his watch, it wasn’t working, 5:47 the time as it got stuck. He checked his phone 10:13 am. He clenched his fist almost starting to bang it to the near post. He was late.
“I am on my way, Ma’am,” he said trying to keep his voice sane and composed.
“The meeting has already started and if you wish on keeping the job get here in 5 minutes,” the voice demanded. He had all the wishes in the world to keep on doing the job, not that he wanted it, but he didn’t know any other work he was good for. He went on to a sprint as soon as he cut the call agreeing to her demand.
Five minutes and forty-six seconds that was the time clocked when he reached the Principal’s office, where seven of the teachers who he was familiar with and another four of the staffs sat in a semi-circle centred by the Principal, a woman in her late forties.
“I am extremely sorry for being late, I had a rough night yesterday,” Mahi said as he went into the room.
“Sure looks that way,” a man sitting in the front row smirked. No one could complain him, Mahi looked that way, his clothes unkempt and hair untidy. He did a lot of running the past 12 hours. But Mahi’s mind only went into the people who surrounded him, he was searching for a familiar face, one he had known for a long time, his face. Has he came here, What if he comes here as I always do. Fancies.
“We can’t accept this manner of attire and your tardiness. This school has its rules and discipline. If the teachers can’t follow that how are you going to make the students do that.” The principal exclaimed.
“I think we could pardon him this time, Ma’am. He is just young.” The man who smirked from the front row said. Mahi’s attention was never in the conversation, although he was the topic of it. The meeting went on for another ten or so minutes and concluded that he was marked on leave that day so the day’s pay was cut. Mahi felt embarrassed when he walked out of the principal’s chamber. A wave of sudden anger flushed his mind, he could hardly contain it. When a soothing voice came from behind his ears, the science teacher, “it is your hour in the fourth standard.” He obeyed what the teacher said, suppressing the hate and fear within, walking into the corridor and onto the classroom that spelt four. The student’s welcome didn’t help him either, they were talking, some were shouting, throwing things around. He banged onto the table, twice, to let them know he had arrived.
The class went on for another half an hour, the rage he felt inside when the students kept picking on him asking questions playing with his patience felt very new to him, never had he felt that way. He stayed in the class, trying to calm his nerves when the students went to the playground for the break
A sudden glance at the gates made things worse. It can’t be, he thought. He looked again but all the things he told himself to believe otherwise were now shattered. Across the ground, near the gate stood a man, who wore the same dress as Mahi, looking straight back into his eyes. The same man he saw the last night, the man who went into his home, looking and acting just like him.
This has to stop. I must find who that is. Mahi walked out of the class. The students were everywhere on the ground, making it harder to find his way to the gate. He saw the man move away trying to hide.
I am not letting you escape, he went on to a sprint, making his way through the children around. He was closer, the man was right behind the gates now moving away.
“Hey!” Mahi called out trying to get the man’s attention. “Stop him” As if someone will care to listen and stop the man. Mahi had his focus on the man that he failed to see the obstacle that appeared before him, he stumbled down and rolled twice on the ground.
He felt pain rushing from his head, his veins were pumping blood faster, his heart booming at an alarming rate. He tried to stand up and a darkening hole appeared, spreading before him. Everything around him started to pitch black as he saw the last day.
This is all coming back, Mahi thought as he saw his body turn into gridlines, illuminating against the darkness.
“Sir,” he heard a voice as of a water drop in the distant, he turned back, the blackness slowly faded, his body returning to the way it was. He heard the voice again, louder this time.
“Sir, what did you do?” a boy cried out to him, Mahi couldn’t make much out of his yelling, he looked at the gates, the man was gone, he saw many more of the students running up to him the security guard following them closely.
“You nearly killed him,” the boy pointing toward another lying, his face half painted in crimson blood, Mahi froze, he choked, his eyes locked onto the red on the face. He saw the boiling eyes of students around him, some tearing up, others yelling. He was shaking, out of fear and remorse, Did I do that? How did I? Was he that I stumbled upon.
Soon came the teachers, some of them helped the boy carried to the school nurses office, while others kept complaining Mahi’s indiscipline and deranged mind, the teacher who smirked in the morning rushed to Mahi. He felt embarrassed and insulted before the students.
“You are mental.” The teacher called him out, holding Mahi’s collar, trying to overpower him.
“Do not call me that,” Mahi spoke out, freeing himself from the teacher’s hold. “It was an accident.”
“Slamming a child to the ground, you call that an accident. Running through the grounds like a mad man, You are mental.” The teacher pushed Mahi down to the ground. All the rage Mahi felt and contained from the morning came back seeking revenge, and this time he didn’t hesitate. He lept onto his feet and punched right on to the teacher’s face. Blood spurted from his nose as he slowly fell onto the arms of other teachers, Mahi felt a slight console that his anger washed away.
“You are absolutely insane,” the security guard, who was trying to help the teacher stand now rushed to Mahi’s side. He felt his adrenaline rush, faster as if he had no more control of the body. The students circled the scene not making any sense of what their teachers were up to. Mahi knew standing there would not help the situation, he had to go find that man, this could not be let to play anymore.
No more second thoughts, Mahi turned back pushing the children from his way towards the gate.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The security guard followed Mahi, but he went into a run that saved him from the guards hold.
“We’re going to call the police, you understood. They are going to take you,” the guard yelled at him, giving up the chase.
Mahi felt the world running faster, his eyes couldn’t focus on a single point. His heart booming faster and louder. He ran like a mad dog, letting his legs take wherever it went.
It felt like an eternity when he stopped. The sun has started to dim its light. As the sun dropped to its resting place, Mahi needed to stay somewhere, he was south of the city, an area he had less ventured to. Shops and houses all lighted and merrier, a warm feeling of being home. He stood there sulking in the scene. Why haven’t I ever came this way before? He thought.
He stayed long enough, that he no longer felt his legs. His hunger calling up to feed it. He must rest, stay low. Maybe the police were on the search for him. He wasn’t sure. He walked into a brightly lit restaurant packed with people. However horrifying the days have been for him, luck was still in his sides when he was able to find a vacated table at the backend of the room. He settled himself, no one came to take the orders and he felt thankful for that. He felt immense relief as his legs rested. The people, their laughter and giggling, how happier would the scene have been if nothing happened in the morning. A happy day and a lovely evening to hope for. He checked his phone, there were dozens of missed calls and messages from the principal and other teachers. There were other unknown numbers too. A message said the parents of the boy he hit had filed a complaint to the police. Also a complaint about attacking the teacher. There was also a call from his house owner, which meant the police were on him and have come to his house. There is no going back there.
A man came talking in himself, yelling and laughing at an imaginary friend or fiend in his mind. He joined Mahi in the table not at all bothering to ask Mahi’s consent.
Mahi put less mind in him, feeling the man would stop bothering. He kept his eyes on the tv away from the man.
“Checking whether your photo comes up on the screen. Are you?” He asked out. Mahi felt as if he was sinking into the armchair he was on. Was he asking me?, he thought and looked at the man, a man in his thirties kept staring right at Mahi, a funny smile in his lips. Mahi did not answer.
“Do not worry, it hasn’t yet,” he said again, thudding on the table to a rhythm in his mind. “How was your day then?”
The man asked as though he could read Mahi’s mind, is he drunk or designedly playing with me. Was he policemen?. The question raced at him one after another.
“Tell me what do you fear most?” The man asked. Mahi ignored the question, keeping his eyes on the television.
“Ah, the classic answer. I’ve known men who talked silence to me. It is quite enjoyable, I must agree. But now is not the time. Come on, shoot away one.” The man said, the same funny smile teasing Mahi.
“I don’t fear anything. Please mind your business.” Mahi said wishing he would stop, he tried to move his legs to get up but it was unresponsive to Mahi’s commands.
“Sit down, sit down” the man laughed and said,” don’t strain the leg too much. I can understand. This bloody leg, always keeping you seated at awkward places.”
“And how come you are at such a beautiful place and not enjoying the evening”. The man continued, “I know, right. A young man, tired and sweaty gets into a packed restaurant after a day’s running, not ordering a single cup of water, moving further into the shadows. How come, eh?”
“Please, just leave me in peace. Why don’t you find someone else to bother.” Mahi pleading, his patience running out.
“Can I? I like to talk to troubled minds and I can swear I have never seen a worse being than yours.”
“Just leave.”
“Or what? you’re going to call the police, no you are not. Because you can’t. Right?” the man thudding his thumb on the table faster creating a tension in the room.
“All right, I will leave you be, do you have some change to spare. Living is an expensive business. Care for some?” he held out his hand to Mahi. He sighed and checked his pockets.
“You could have asked for it first rather than making a show for it,” Mahi told from relief when he handed some changes to the man.
The man laughed. “You have to earn your money, right? Anyway the shows over. I have to make my way to my den.” The man walked off, at the door, he stared out through the glass door for some time and shouted.
“Life was meant to go in a path that was given to us, stray away there will be blackouts.”
Is he talking to me? What is wrong with this guy, it doesn’t make any sense, life was meant to go in what path, who chooses those paths? Mahi thought.
“You.” The man turned to face Mahi. “You, Mahi, next time you see “you” somewhere, surely will, say hello for me to him.” Then he walked out. It took a considerable time to understand the man’s words. His eyes lit up when he found out the sense in it. He knew, he really knew what was happening. How did he know my name?
A sudden strength pulled him up as he rushed out of the restaurant, pushing away whoever stood on the way, but the streets were packed with people. There was no trace of where the man went. He walked along the sidewalk, exposed for anyone who was looking for him to find.
He ran back to the city. The light of the sun had faded into the sheer darkness that now shaded the city. He walked the deserted roads and wondered. The streets were dense only an hour back, now a deserted graveyard, where the buildings reigned. He had to rest for the night, going home was not an option, sleeping at shop doors would be deadly. If humans succeeded on roads in the morning, dogs ruled them at night. Sleeping anywhere was good as dead.
He made for the city park, where he slept last night. If everything that happened was true and not a delusion he created, then he would be lucky to see himself next to the bench he was on. His eyes stayed open as much as it can, looking for the familiar face to appear but it slowly bought the darkness in when he nodded off into the sleep.
“Get up,” a monstrous voice screamed at his ears, a forceful kick at his knees threw him off the bench. “You people are everywhere, infesting the city. How many of you should I wake up? Get off!” He kicked Mahi again on the legs. The pain was overtaken by his feeling of loss in the middle of nowhere. It was the same guard who woke him up yesterday. What if the other guy is still around. Mahi got up and looked around. There was no sign of him other than joggers. He recalled the way he used the last day. I will find him in one of the places. Mahi knew. He went into the city. The crowd were the same as yesterday so has been before that. He crossed the street and reached the bus stop. The principal called him yesterday at the same spot. But the other guy was not here, the time was the same, he should have been somewhere around, but no. I have to go to school, he thought, Mahi knew it was as dangerous, the police could be around or one of the staffs or students could spot him. But he knew if there was one way of finding him that was it.
He made his way to the gates, sneaking and hiding behind whatever he could find, and peeked through the grills looking out at the building, the students were in the class, nothing must have happened yet. Class fourth was straight to the gate, he could make out someone sitting on the chair inside. Time went by as he stood there watching, waiting if the man would show up and the bell rang for the break. He knew the time has come, Mahi had to do exactly as the other man did the last day. Walk up to the gate and stare right into the class. Mahi walked slowly to the place where the other man stood and waited for him to get out of the class.
The man sitting on the chair stood up and walked out of the class, the light illumined his face, it was the teacher he punched on the face, now wearing a bandaid over his nose. This is not right. It must have been me, who should have come out. Is it not happening. Is it not repeating?. He felt someone grab his shoulder from behind and felt a hard hit on the side of his face.
The light passed through when he slowly tried to open his eyes. Several men towered over him, some wore police uniforms and others with familiar faces.
“Trying to sneak up on me, eh?” the security guard said, rubbing his knuckles.
“We are taking you under custody for several charges under your name,” The policemen held Mahi up and cuffed his hands. I should not have believed in it. They were right. I was being insane. It was reckless of me to come here for them to find me. At least I won’t have to run anymore.
Take me to a doctor before putting me in jail, could you?” Mahi asked when they seated him in the Police car joined by another officer. He remained silent, Mahi knew, if he was truly insane, they can’t punish him for the charges. The car went past the school and onto the busy street. Everything he felt from that night at his home were his delusions, hallucination his mind made up. Then who was that man who talked to him last night at the restaurant? Was he real or another imagination?
A dark spot appeared before him, it is not real, is it? Mahi held his hands out to touch it. The policeman closely watched him. The black spot grew, swallowing Mahi into the vast blackness as before. His body turning into gridlines.
“Stop! Stop!” the policeman screamed out. He looked ghastly, his face pale and lips shivering. The car stopped and the officers in the front looked back. They were dumbstruck.
“Where is he?” one of the officers in the front asked. The second one in the driver’s seat kept staring at the officer behind.
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know,” the officer said, “he was right here, then he disappeared.”
When Mahi saw light again, he was back at the school gates witnessing the police arrest the other man and taking him in the same car he was in a minute ago. What is happening? It is not my imagination. Not my brain damage. I… I…. his thoughts stuttered. The world was spinning faster, there can’t be worse nightmares.
He understood the man’s question, his greatest fear was seeing himself in flesh and blood standing opposite to him and it had come to be true.
He ran, once again.


Thank you for reading. I will be posting the final part, Yesterday Night Part 3 shortly.
Thanks to Getthemysteriousblogger for suggesting the tag line. Cheers to you.

Yesterday Night – part 1

The smell of asphalt made his headache even worse than before. His walk home felt like an eternity when Mahinder paced the freshly tarred road cursing, barely able to keep his eyes steady. The street was darker than he knew. When he slowly neared the interjunction, his two-storey apartment building came in to view, on top standing like a black hole, sucking all the moonlight into its core. Below stood the house owners grocery store which was half-lit. He almost thought of cutting into the interjunction, taking the east road to avoid confronting him, but a man walking from that way to the main junction made him think twice, the weather was getting cold and time had gone off course, might just sneak through without the owner noticing.

All his plans were doomed when he heard the owner call out.

“Mahi” a hefty man in his sixties came out of the half-closed shutters. Mahinder had no option but to face the owner.

“You are late today, working overtime?” the man asked cleaning his greasy hands on a cloth. Mahi worked late at the school where he taught especially when the exams were up. But today that wasn’t the case. Just a bloody headache.

“Yes,” he had to lie, rather than giving a long account of what happened. He desperately wanted to get into his room, lie down and never wake up.

“I know you are working hard to meet the ends, but if you need any help let me know. Okay.” the man put his hands on Mahi’s shoulder. Mahi smiled and nodded, slowly making his way to the steps nearby. He turned back to see a man standing near the steps staring at him. Maybe the owner, Mahi thought and continued up the stairs. He turned back to check and saw the man following him.

“Excuse me? Can I help you?” Mahi stopped and asked the man, was he the person who was coming from the east road, because he didn’t see anyone else on the streets.

“What do you want?” he asked again. He was alarmed, who was this guy, a thief, some maniac. But his thoughts were interrupted when the man turned back and ran down the stairs at a fly. Mahi followed him, by the time he reached the ground, there was no one. The owner was closing the shutters. Seeing Mahi staring abruptly at the darkness around, the owner got off the van.

“What happened, Mahi?” he inquired. His head was throbbing, almost as if his veins would burst open. Where did he go? Who was it? 

“Did you see anyone run away?” Mahi asked the owner, gasping for breath.

“Now, no. What is the matter?”

“I saw someone follow me upstairs and then ran off,” Mahi told.

“I didn’t see anyone. It might have been a stray dog.” the owner said, scratching his head with a doubtful look at Mahi.

“No,” Mahi said, he knew what he saw, that was a man. Is he lying? why didn’t he see him? If I saw him, he surely had. He was tired, thinking more did only make his head burst open. Better get back, he thought.

By the time he was awake Mahi was far exhausted than when he slept. The vague memories of his dream flashed through one more time before vanishing into the void. It was dawn. The faint light of the new day could hardly touch the bedroom window. The time was hitting six. I need to sleep more, he thought. lying back to the bed, searching deep into the abyss. He was sweating, why? His muscles were straining. All he did was lie down. There was no hope in finding it. He woke up and switched on the lights. They blinked twice before it steadied. He noticed a dark spot on the right wall, bigger than his fist. That wasn’t there before. He leaned to touch it but it slowly closed on its own, blending into the rest. This wasn’t the first time Mahi has seen that. Buses, classes, restaurants everywhere. A dark spot that closed on its own, a spot no bigger than a coin at first. It was only getting bigger and bigger. He understood that he had some serious brain damage. The continuous headaches, dark spots that weren’t there. He was sure he was losing his eyesight.

Did he see the stranger follow him last night or was it just another hallucination his brain damage brought? He could not think any longer. Thinking made everything worse. As it always has in his life. I must seek medication.

On his way to school, Mahi stopped at the owner’s shop noticing the crowd that gathered around. He saw the owner standing near the entrance talking to three policemen who towered over the short man. Mahi cut his way through the crowd and met the owner.

“Mahi, You were right. Someone broke into the shop yesterday night.” The owner holding Mahi’s hand, the policemen closely examining both. Mahi was petrified, so that wasn’t a hallucination. Someone did follow me. Maybe he was trying to rob me but took the chance to rob the shop.

“Did you see his face?” asked one of the policeman.

“No, I wasn’t able to. It was dark.” Mahi responded, still in his thoughts. “Was he a theif?” Mahi turned to the owner.

“Yes, but he didn’t take a thing.” the owner said, not able to believe for himself.

“What?” Mahi was puzzled.

“Well, he didn’t take anything and we don’t even know how he got in at the first place.” the policemen said.

“What about the surveillance camera, that does work, right?” Mahi asked the owner. The policemen shared a look at each other, the owner was trying to catch his breath.

“Come on, Mahi. I’ll show you.” the owner pulled him into the shop followed by the policemen. A computer was placed at the cash counter, where the owner went on clicking something and called Mahi to look. The video clip showed nothing except a well-lighted shopping floor. It remained as it is for the rest of the time.

“I don’t see anything out of order or anyone. Where is the robber?” Mahi asked. The owner stared at Mahi, his eyes were slowly swelling with tears.

“There isn’t any.” the owner said. But his face said there was more than something normal about the scene.

“Then how do you know there was someone inside,” Mahi asked. These people were just wasting his time.

“Look” the owner skipped to 5:47 am. The steel door at the backend of the shop that was used to unload the packages opened on its own. Tears were rolling from the owner’s eyes. Mahi couldn’t believe or didn’t want to. The policemen felt the same way. Either the camera wasn’t properly working or the door wasn’t locked, that was the only logical explanation Mahi could come up with. But the policemen and the owner convinced him better. They were properly locked and had found the key in the lock. Someone used the key, the owner kept in his table to open the door. But who? there was no one inside. No trace of anything living that could have opened a door with a key. The backdoor stayed open as it was when Mahi left for school.

The day wasn’t entertaining, like almost the rest of his past. On his way back, the thoughts came back to him. Why did the man follow me? Why didn’t the owner see him? why did he break into the shop if not for stealing? And why was he not captured by the camera? All the Why’s were running one after another through his mind. He decided to take the east road. Although it was a longer route, he had time to spare.

The east road was quiet and peaceful than the main one. Shadier if not anything else. He had never even thought of taking the road before and it hit him hard on the back as he had to find the way on his own. The road extended to the interjunction where it met the main road. He almost reached the back entrance to his apartment building only a few feet away from the backdoor of the owner’s shop which the thief used to escape. He caught a glimpse of someone pass through the main road down in the direction to his home. The person was walking fast, almost into a run. Mahi felt something amiss and thought to follow him. Nothing was visible of him except a shadowy outline. He went down further the road to meet the interjunction saw the man continuing his walk towards the stairs. Then he stopped. Mahi leaned on the wall on his side to stay hidden from him. He had to find out who that man is. Mahi almost dialled the police when the owner came out and spoke to the stranger. He sighed, moved towards them both to listen to what they were saying. The lights were dim and the shutter was half closed like the last day. Mahi stretched himself to listen and heard a bit or two of the owner’s voice.

“……working overtime?” the owner’s voice fading. He couldn’t make the other persons reply but the owner was patting the man’s shoulder.

“……..meet the ends. if you need anything let me know. Okay,” The owner said, this time a lot clear. Mahi was confounded, this felt very familiar, he remembered having the same conversation with the owner, very recently. Like the last day. Several questions passed by his mind but he ignored them when he saw the stranger walk up the stairs to his home. What? Why is he going that way? Why didn’t the owner stop him? 

Mahi followed the man to the stairs. The owner was busy loading something to his car that he must not have seen Mahi. The old man will hear from me for this, let me find who that is first. The stranger went up to the gate on the stairs and locked it from behind then he noticed Mahi. He stood there looking at Mahi but continued walking up. Mahi was terrified he didn’t understand why the owner let a stranger to Mahi’s apartment and what did this man want? He followed the man up to the gate when the stranger looked back again at Mahi and spoke.

“Excuse me? Can I help you?” Mahi froze, that wasn’t right, he said the same thing yesterday when he saw the stranger, his very familiar voice. Diming light from the moon showed the man’s annoyed face.

That can’t be… No…

It was him, Mahi itself. Or an impersonator. But no, it was himself. The face, the same one he had been staring at in the mirror now standing upfront. Was he having a hallucination, he tried to wake up from his sleep, the nightmare. No. It wasn’t one.

“What do you want?” the man moved towards Mahi. Everything he felt till that moment started fading, they were turning black, the dark spot appeared, growing over the stairs and his home like vine roots. He ran down the stairs, more like jumping the steps. He wanted to run to the nearest hospital but he saw the owner standing near his minivan. Mahi saw the half-open shutter and ran into the shop. The inside was growing black as the dark spot grew further and further. He hid behind a farthest aisle and stayed there. What has become of him? Why was there a man like him? Why did things happen yesterday repeat? I was standing exactly where the stranger was standing yesterday? What is going on? Am I becoming blind or is the world growing dark? He was now sitting in the middle of nowhere, vast blackness. His body illuminating bare grid lines. What has become of me?

He heard the shutter close and voices of two men from outside, he knew who they were and what they were talking. Exactly what he asked the owner yesterday. He sat in the blackness as if there was no return.

As time passed by, the gridlines started to appear around slowly bringing the light back. At the first sight of light Mahi stood up and ran up to the front door, but they were locked from outside, but he knew there was a back exit. He searched for the key to the door and rushed to the back as soon as he found it. The door flung open welcoming  the faint light of the new sun that made the blackness retreat. He looked at his watch, 5:47 am.

I was the robber and the stranger who followed me yesterday. But I was the one sleeping in my bedroom.

He ran.


Thank you for reading the first part of Yesterday night. I will be uploading the Second part very soon. Comment your thoughts and reviews.

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His last note

He dropped his pen and looked around.

The room was empty as it always had been. He smiled to himself and rubbed his wrinkled chin. His eyes swelled up but no time to rub them off.

The sun had set and the wind had died. The room was empty as it always had been.

Only note he left on the lonely table read:

I was here.

From hope

He slowly picked her up from the bare floor. Her eyes slowly opened allowing the light to enter her soul. A poor old man in withered grey cloak held her, smiling.

“You are early” the old man said holding her.

“Where am I?” She asked.

“Somewhere you shouldn’t come early.” He smiled.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“All your life you call me and yet when I come that is what you had to ask”. He smiled. “I am a father, call me father. How did you get here?”

“I don’t know,” she said, thinking seemed very hard for her. He placed his palm on her forehead. “Think”.

She could think back to the very last of days. She was driving her car, smashed into the railings of a bridge down to the river below drowning her.

She cried her heart out.

“I had no other choice, I lost everything, everyone I thought I had left me like I died. There was no hope in being alive.”

He embraced her, “there is always hope in living. Death is no choice, its a destination you reach once you finish your journey. And you have a long way to go.” He smiled “go back complete the journey and come back I will wait for you.”

“But…” Her body was weakening, eyelids weighed up. She went blank.

Later she woke up with a very tired smile on her face. She was in a coma for three days and now awake by god’s grace. But she remembered, there is always hope in living.

So shall he shine.

He knew not what to do or where to from here as he trembled back to his arm chair. Everything he thought there was for him are no longer his and now all hopes were lost.

He gazed into the dark night sky where tiny little dots glimmered and glittered here and there. His eyes fixed on a single little star who shone brighter than his celestial friends.

Long ago have he heard that the stars we see today are just the light emitted by them thousands of years ago from millions of kilometers away. The actual star may have moved away or not even exist today. Just a shadow of itself.

His mind kept wandering in that small thought, how much would have that tiny dot, we call as a star must have burned to produce this light that have travelled from places farther than he could imagine and yet here it is staring down at him wondering what these puny little humans are thinking about.

There was a sudden joy in him, not every hope were lost. He may not be or have anything today, but not everyday is going to be like today. If he could burn like a star, one day may be not today or tomorrow but eventually he would shine like the star. The ones who deemed him worthless shall look up to him and dance in his light.

The dreams and thoughts kept running through his mind and slowly he drifted of to his sleep. What a wonderful world.