What is right?

The dilemma of the depth of the question killed him. He had known what he had wanted all along and what he wished for most people weren't a big fan of. Most, in this pretext meant nearly 99% of the people. What was this that made this wish so profound? Why was he in such a dilemma! The questions haunted his own alter ego.

But amid all, what did he want? To be free. To be able to breathe freely without a conscious haunting in every step of the way. To be able to do whatever he wanted to do. To fly among the soft clouds that floated in the sky of a summer evening. He was second in a family of three children. But he has always been the eldest. How? A tragedy! A tragedy in which his brother left this so called beautiful world after enjoying the life in this world for a couple of days. Just a couple of days. How more terrible can God be? If he was born before his brother, he would have been devastated. But he was lucky? He was fortunate enough to escape that hardship.

All this while as he grew up, he was totally unaware of a heavenly soul and was the eldest in the family. He never had a thought, never had a mention, never knew that he was second. He never had to think deep even after he came to know, he wasn't at a liberty to feel remorse. But every one in a while he would imagine what if that kid was still around, what the world around him would be like. Above all, all he thought was that it would have been pleasant. 

Why? Why he wanted his brother to be alive? But first of all, he wondered whether the almighty God was fair? Eventually as time passed by, he started realizing his anger towards God for being so unfair to a kid who was still young, who didn't even put his legs on this world. He was as much angry as the circumstances that led to now. The loss of life at any point of time could scar anyone for life. Life is precious, and God understands this more than anyone. But, if only he did! He asked, rather shouted at God, cursed him, demeaned him and after failing to see any results started losing faith in him. No matter how much faith he lost, even when there was no faith left to lose, he still remembered him every once in a while, either it was to curse him or beg him. He concluded God to be a mean person with no conscious, no remorse. How could anyone tell otherwise! 

Now revisiting again, Why he wanted his brother to be alive? Why he hated God so much? Why, because that night God took away the wrong person. He wishes that if that day  had been any different, the world, his world would have been a different place. A peaceful place where he always wishes to be. A place where there is no sorrow. A place where there is no pain. A place where there is no hatred, no nothing. A place where he never existed, where he never existed!

The Apartment

Chapter III

The Apartment !

Chapter I : Prologue

Chapter II : "You have been served" 

______________________________

Mark kept his gaze on the envelop and gazed it for a moment to sink in the authenticity of the envelop and the inscription it had. The same kind of typewriter print. Is it from the suspect we are after?, Mark asked himself staring at the envelop. May be it could be something to get us off his back, mislead us into a goose chase. May be. Or he thinks himself to be an evil genius and probably showcasing his psychotic side by giving us clues or what he is upto. Is this a game to him? Is he trying to challenge us based on the way we might solve this game of his? The questions kept haunting Mark. But he wanted to be better sure than speculate. He wanted to judge the similarity in the print on the note and the envelop. He took the envelop and got into the elevator to the lawyer's apartment. When he reached the apartment, the police were just clearing out from the house as they have whatever they wanted. Mark asked for the evidence file in which the note was kept. It wasn't a big surprise, the print was same and could be concluded that it was the same typewriter print. It was their suspect's own envelop. 

So, what does this envelop have? As this was from the same suspect-killer, it should be legally turned into as evidence? But the suspect in question, he should rather be more interested in making an escape plan, may be leave the city, hide somewhere where no one could ever find him. But he is somewhere here, somewhere close and keeping an eye on what is happening. He has an ulterior motive and I have got to find it out, Mark spoke under his breath. Does his ulterior motive creating more crime scenes? The thought itself gave Mark a chill. This was a very sick game he was playing and he should be stopped before more dead bodies surface. The suspect has been a step ahead all this while and I have to catch up with him and take a step ahead of him and eventually catch him. But how? Mark felt the frustration building up and as a counter he hit the wall. He had a lot on his mind and the thoughts got jumbled. He hit the wall even harder to silence his rebellious mind. What he wasn't still certain of was how the killer did this and went away. He sat on the stairs that we beside the elevator and closed his eyes as he took three long deep breaths. The scenes started formulating in front of his, his version though.

The killer must have known this lawyer from somewhere. He has followed him for a week or so knowing what he did in his time and where he lived. But he chose the previous night to step up and execute his plan. Why? May be he thought it was time? He got into the apartment without tripping the security alarm. He knows his way around things. And this was a not a easy thing to crack either. So electronics, check. He probably entered the apartment from the front door itself. The balcony way is not out of the question but it is way too risky and not easy. But if he did, there would be definite clues and there were none. So, balcony, cross. He managed to dodge the security cameras in the floor and there was no log of anyone using the elevator beside the lawyer at that time, before and after. Was he inside the elevator? Impossible, the security camera in the elevator would have showed something. So the only left was the roof. How did he manage to get on the roof? Lets assume he did come from the roof. He entered the apartment from the front door and disabling the security before it went haywire, closed the door behind him. And then what? No footprints, no smudges, nothing! He was good at what he did and he clearly knew what he was getting into. He was careful not to touch anything and leave any evidence behind. Where did he hide? He had to hide somewhere not to get caught if the lawyer was to check his apartment. The bedroom? That would have made it quite difficult to make his way back into the living room. But how did he know that the lawyer would be in the living room? The safe place for him was the balcony. It was vast and lot of blind spots. And at that time even I wouldn't assume to be sitting there and waiting to kill me. The lawyer came to his apartment close to midnight. He was a little drunk, the aftermath of the party he had just attended. But he still had to take another glass of drink? Why? The photo of his wife misplaced on the table. He picked it up to mitigate the pain had to drink. He then sat on the chair facing the balcony and lit a cigar. He might has slipped into sleep as he was tired already. The intruder took that as a chance and entered the living room from the balcony. He woke him up. There was a slight struggle from the lawyer as a result of the shock and his reflex to save himself from that panic stood up to grab something. But the intruder was fast. A bullet pierced the lawyer and he fell down face down. The intruder left that note beside him and left the same way he came. From the roof? The roof ! 

Mark took the stairs and ran up to the roof. It was just any other ordinary roof. But it had gravel around the boundary of the building. He managed to find certain skid marks as if a hard landing which seemed to have been wiped down. He canvased the surroundings to find an adjacent apartment which could be used for a jump. May be the suspect used the adjacent building to enter this. Beside the skid marks he saw an adjacent apartment nearly ten feet apart. If he had come from that apartment, he had to had some help. It didn't much time to locate the hook which was used to hold the wire of sorts. There was traces of footprints. Mark took a picture of the partial footprint on his mobile. He did come from this way, but didn't leave from here. The security camera's from that apartment could give us more clues. And also, the mode of transportation after he left the apartment. There was a lot of possibilities. That is something to be looked into as well. I will have to inform Sam to canvas through the security footage of three blocks, anything that just could put someone in the time frame.

___________________________________

The rain was heavy that night. The nature must have been furious. Is was a simple apartment that any normal middle class guy would have, rented obviously. The city was expensive in itself and affording even a small apartment would mean that he was Rich. But he managed his expenses. The rain lashed through his helmet as he sped towards his apartment. He reached his apartment which was just at the verge of the city. He was completely drenched in rain. The cold water that bathed him calmed his thoughts. He had almost forgotten what he had done that night. He was at peace. He placed his overcoat to dry beside the window on the hanger. The apartment was small, had one bedroom, a small kitchen and a living room. It was sufficient for him and under his norms of payment. He stared across the living room onto a wall as he grabbed a beer from the mini fridge in the kitchen. He kept his eyes fixed at the wall as he walked towards it. The wall that he was staring at resembled what would be termed as a collage in layman terms but not the simple good looking collage. Oh, it was looking good alright, but only he could understand. It was the collage of photos, newspaper cuttings, files, reports, print outs, torn out pages, sticky notes, pins, different colored threads and whatnot. The whole office supply was improvised to create this roadmap. He stared at the picture of the lawyer at the bottom corner, took a red sketch and crossed it with two distinct lines across the edges of the photo and tied a red thread over the already existing yellow thread. The red thread had the origin just on the lawyer. He took a few steps back and looked at the wholeness of the collage and assured himself with a half smile that in time he will be able to reach the top of the pyramid. The smile faded on his face a moment later, finished his beer in a jiffy as he stared at the second picture. He went to his bedroom, sat on the bed with his laptop and started his research about the next guy in the list.

___________________________________

(To be Continued...)

P.S. : I am continuing the fictional story I started a while back. Hope this is not as awful as I fear it to be. Lets' see how this turns out to be. Gracias. 

"You have been served"

Disclaimer : This following piece of fiction is a continuation of the first part Prologue, which I wrote a long time back. I have have had this feeling to continue this somehow. So, here it is.

Chapter 1 : Prologue

__________________________________

I check the time on my watch. The time was 2210 hours. I still had over an hour to set everything in place. I got on my bike, drove to the destination parked it a few blocks away beyond the eye of suspicion. I took care of the security cameras. I have been canvasing this neighborhood for the past few weeks now. I have to be careful. I have got a long list to deal with. If I get caught, the injustice would win, yet again. I need to set things straight when I can before it's too late. The security camera on his apartment floor have been running in continuous loop and the guard couldn't figure it out. Of course, I have timed it well. But, today better safe than sorry, I am going to disable them. I need them to know that somebody was here and altered everything here. His apartment looks well, RICH. I have had the layout but he did a pretty good job decorating. But, it is going to be such a waste. He won't be able to stay long enough. I had to be cautious not to misplace anything. Anything out of the context could put my plan in jeopardy. Luckily, I was able to find his revolver, a 9mm and a great choice. May be it was gifted by someone. It has an engraving JM, his name. I scanned around the house, the AC was on. It was never off. I assumed it was the cold weather filled with the aftermath of the rain. Oh, he has a beautiful scenery. The city looks beautiful in the night and from this height. The car, his car was headed towards the apartment. It is almost time.

It was so easy getting. A small jump from the adjoining building landed me on this apartment's rooftop. And I just had to get into the penthouse. I knew the security codes. Two days of surveillance was enough to decode his security code.  It was his wife death date and his daughter's birth date, something he could never forget. I got in from the main entrance as if it was my own apartment. As I realized he had taken the elevator directly to his floor, I hid in the balcony behind the door. He entered the apartment and didn't suspect a thing misplaces or the presence of an intruder, the possible killer. He had no idea of what his future would be and how short his life would become. He opened the balcony to let the fresh cold wind replace the air conditioned room. At that moment, my heart skipped a beat that I would be discovered and that my purpose will be served but in a lot messier way. But he didn't come out. Instead he lit a cigar. Probably his last cigar. I watched carefully from the tainted window of the balcony door beyond his purview of sight. He left the glass of scotch on the handle of his chair and the cigar smoke danced around his fingers. He had slept. It might have been a tiring day perhaps. I cautioned myself and briskly made myself into the room from the balcony. The curtains flew under the cold wraps of the wind. He was fast asleep. I wanted to wait for the cigar to burn his finger and then he would wake up to see me, his death. The longer I wait, the more clues I leave behind. I must hurry up. I nudge the glass on the chair handle and it slowly fell down. The fur carpet absorbed most of the noise but that was enough to bring this man into senses. He saw me with a frightened look which suddenly disappeared as he jumped up to the cupboard on the side to grab his revolver. Oh the revolver, one nice little piece. 

"Looking for this", I scoffed as he stumbled to look back at me. "I am just borrowing it for a little while. I promise to return back", my voice still mocked at his innocence. 

"What do you want?", he asked me as if I was here to rob him. Oh, I was here to rob him, but not just his money, but his life. 

"There is nothing in this world you could pay me off with. It is time you accepted, 

accepted your fate". 

"What the hell are you talking about? Why are you doing this?".

"Don't act so surprised. You knew that this was coming. Why else would get a revolver?".

"I have no idea what you are talking about?". 

"Oh, don't worry about it. It is all going to end tonight. You will have nothing but peace in the end. I can promise you that". 

"Who the hell are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

I placed a page in front of him. I wanted him to realize why he won't be able to see another day. As he picked up the paper, I could see the life go out of body. He knew what it was and he had known the consequences at that time. But he never expected to see it again until today. I lost his balance and in the moment of panic he jumped for the alarm button just at the edge of the cupboard. But he fell down with two shots in his chest. There was silence afterwards. I went out of the apartment from the front door through the service elevator, the one place the camera was old and wasn't functioning. As I got onto my bike, I switched of the remote access to the security cameras which gave the guard in the apartment that something was wrong. One camera wasn't working. He called the cops. I was long gone. Everything according to plan.

_______________________________

Mark reached his office later the next day just to be welcomed by storming press which were as agitated as he was. They needed answers and so did he. They had questions, and well, so did he. It was getting a little out of hand, all this new business with the killer with no answers in hand. Mark made an mental note to drop by the crime scene once the melodrama at the office was over. All this pressure was taking a toll on him. He had just completed an half year being sober and he couldn't start that again. Never. Again. He told himself. Instead he grabbed a coffee from the pantry, filled it in a take away cup and took a sip. He knew that this drama was going to continue as long as the mystery is solved. Just as he was about to get out of the Office to find out more about the lawyer who died the other night, he was called in by his chief. He inquired about his progress and mocked about his skill which wasn't helping them in recent past. He also lay down a deadline failing which he would be handing over the case to the State and then there would be nothing they could do. 

"Are you capable of solving this?", asked his chief with a disgruntled look as Mark was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday and his swollen eyes due to lack of sleep. What was he up to, thought the chief. But whatever his inquisitions were, he had the faith in him despite all the odds. He was good at what he did and there was no doubt about it. But was be becoming reckless? Has the past caught up with him? No. He brushed aside all those thoughts which could jeopardize his skill in the investigation. 

"Yes, I am well above my senses regarding this case. As a matter of fact, I was just heading back to the crime scene to find some clues. May be I could grab something that I might have missed yesterday."

"Yeah you do that. Meanwhile I have this press to deal with. They just don't believe I will be telling. They just keep hitting back with more questions. We have had no progress yet. So, please get me something. Powerful people are dropping down like used shell casings which is raising a few more questions from the superiors. They are scared, sure but they will be up our asses until this is solved. We need to end this. But you keep up your best and hope to see some results at the earliest."

"I always do my best and you know it."

"Yeah, I do. But don't flatter yourself. Just get me some good news".

Mark left the office with a coffee in hand. He reared his car in reverse setting it straight to go ahead to the crime scene. He reached the scene only to find the Yellow Do Not Cross police tape outside of the apartment. It was a penthouse, a luxury one indeed. He scanned the surroundings but started with the entrance. The door doesn't seem have been fiddled with nor any signs of forced entry. The killer might have been inside the apartment before the lawyer had even come. Did he have a duplicate key? If he had, he also had to know the security lock code to disable the alarm. What about the cameras in the doorway? That should help a little. He picked up the report of the observations by the forensic and skimmed through the details. Nothing useful, he told himself. The cameras have been disabled. As a matter of fact they have been working in loop for a couple of days before they were disabled the other night. That means the killer had an elaborated plan to get him. But what was the need for a stakeout? If he wanted to kill him, he might as well do it. Looks like he had an ulterior motive. If that is the case, what was it? The balcony door seems to be undisturbed, but that is not true. It was the only possible access to the penthouse. If he had made his way, it could be either from the roof or from the floor below. Mark looked for clues to find any clues that the killer might have left behind. He was very careful not to leave any. He looks like a professional hitman of sorts. Not even one shred of clue is left behind. How can this be possible?, thought Mark. A strand of hair or sweat or something should be here somewhere. What about the note? He went to the scene of the crime to find a chalk etched outline of the lawyer who was killed last night. Beside the outline of the body was a note in white paper on which it was printed 'FOR A BETTER SOCIETY'. It was printed and nothing more could be done except the kind of printer and paper. That won't be of any help. If it was hand written, may be the hand writing analysis or the use of words could have indicated the state of mind of the killer. State of mind! chuckled Mark. State of mind, my ass. He is a god damn psychopath and he needs to be put down. After scanning through the stuff, fridge, balcony and everything that could possibly be linked to the killer which was around in the apartment as it was clear that the killer had been waiting for him for a long time, he tried to recreate the scene in his mind. 

James McGumry was the name of the lawyer whose embodied outline lie in his apartment while his corpse is being investigated by the Forensic department back in the office. He looks like a rich wealthy person judging by the interior of his house which was possible designed by the best interior designed in the town. And also the Mercedes that was in the parking lot, a limited edition. Though it is practically impossible for a lawyer like himself to be owning such a priced possession. He drove his own car which meant that he wanted to be in control. Of course, he is an lawyer and the control over things comes with the territory. So, after a busy day at the court he drops by for the dinner party at the Mayor's house. He has a little too of Champagne but he feels he is in control and drives himself home after the party. It wasn't a long drive from the Mayor's house to his penthouse. As soon as he reached his home, he entered his house just like everyday, casually. He didn't suspect anything weird or anything out of place. If he had noticed something out of place, he would have known that something was wrong. This means that the killer was careful not to disturb anything in Lawyer's apartment. May be the lawyer was too drunk to notice, which could be a possibility. But living in solitude does give the person a sense of caution towards his surroundings. So, he would have known. He looked at his wife's photo on the beside where he kept his keys safely. He looked at it and put it face down as he took the glass from the minibar beside and poured a hard scotch into it as took a sip. He might have walked back to his chair facing the balcony. He sat there as he lit up a cigar and took a sip of the scotch. He might have been thinking about his deceased wife as he looked at the bokeh of city lights that shimmered in front of him from his pent house balcony. He dozed off into blissful sleep only to woken up by the the glass that fell on the velvety furry carpet. He might have seen the intruder in front of him and stood up to take action. The killer didn't shoot then, but he waited as the lawyer searched for his revolver in the side cabinet only to find nothing there. The intruder looked deep into his eyes and might have said something before putting two bullets in his chest, the sound of which subsided by the silencer on the gun. The intruder made his way out from the front door itself and stay unnoticed. The door had an automatic lock which could lock itself once the door is closed. But how did the intruder get inside in the first place? The balcony is the only possible explanation.

Mark wanted to examine the body and find whatever he could that the forensic experts might have missed. He made a mental note to check back once examining the body and could indicate any clues about the state of mind of the killer. He reached his car and as he threw the cigarette stubbed between his lips, stamped on it and looked up to open the door of his car. He found an envelop on the windshield of his car which had an inscription "YOU HAVE BEEN SERVED", the same typewriter handwriting found beside the outlined body of the lawyer in his apartment. This sent a shiver down his spine as he looked at it even before he opened it.

_______________________________________

P.S. : I am writing fiction after a very long time. Hope this is not as awful as I fear it to be. Lets' see how this turns out to be. Gracias. 

Prologue.

The cold wind ruffled through the curtains as the night dawned in silence of the night. It had been raining for an hour and now the air is clean and pure mixed with the moist smell of the aftermath rain. It would be an ideal time to take an evening stroll. But it wasn't evening either. The clock just chimed one. It was not an usual night. There was a stint of certain weirdness that surrounded the atmosphere. When he came it was raining heavily and he was covered in water. The carpeted floor stubbed with dampness. But everything has dried, even the carpet though the atmosphere outside was kind of chilly and cold. But the apartment wasn't. There had been a lot of tension and the room was, well, not as cold as outside. On the contrary, it was pretty hot. 

________________________

Mark got a call when he was returning home after a long day at the office. He was working on a case and it was a pretty complicated one because it was unusual for him to take this long to solve his case. He was actually good at solving when it came to finding bad guys. No, he was great. But this case, was turning out to be mysterious to him and he is no where near solving it. He has always worked by the book, almost. He didn't had many friends because there was some history which he prefers to leave it in the past. He wasn't in active duty for a year because of something that happened in the past that had something do with his family. There were different stories that people told. But he knew the real one and preferred not to think about it and not to be bothered with his past. An year of no duty might have rendered him incapable of working any longer but the urgency and the magnitude of the case asked for his expertise. He had dealt with similar cases before. And so was the reason for calling him on the force. Within a month, he solved the case which the detectives were trying to solve for the past year. He lost the interest of taking credit, which others believed it to be the trauma that was haunting him. And so the department was appreciated, obviously. 

The humbleness of him compelled to make the best use of him. Six months had passed and he did great. He was back. A year before he was locked in his home drinking and smoking and sometimes even drugs, just to forget. He moved places, but the thoughts always haunted him. For a long time, he turned a blind eye to the bad things that happened, even when they happened in front of him. He just walked away. He was incapable. He was tired. He was lost. He was smitten with vengeance. But then again he was mentally incapacitated. 

____________________________

He turned the car back around. The smoke of the cigarette stubbed between his fingers made a trail as he sped on the driveaway to meet up the folks at the crime scene. He arrived at the scene in time for all the detectives assigned to it arrived. He entered the flat. It was a big flat. The victim was a wealthy man. We could tell by the look of his appartment flat. It was a penthouse. And almost in it was antique. He also had a Merc which was parked in his parking spot as of he had just arrived. This case couldn't wait till the next morning because this was the second in the last two months. Whoever was doing this was very careful and it was evident that it was the same person because the pattern was almost similar to all of his victims. And this guy whoever he was was becoming a pain in the ass for the police department. As the pressure kept building from the higher up, the police was head over heels to solve this mystery of sorts.

The forensics gave a preliminary report to Mark based on the visual observations and the more could only be found out after the body was taken to the lab. Mark was a clever fellow. He didn't require any report from anyone. His visual perception was pretty good. He had a thing for these kinds of things and the killers' thoughts. He could jump into the mind of the killer and visualize the scenes that might have taken place. The victim was a Lawyer and was a renowned person as he had more number of cases solved than anyone in the city. And that itself rose the suspicion. No one could be that perfect when it comes to being a lawyer. A note was left behind beside the body which read "For a better society" He leaves them behind claiming himself to be doing good to the society and implicitly asking people not the judge on his morale. 

To be continued.... 

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P.S. : Okay, I have to ask. Does anyone even come here and read any of my stuff? Well anyway, I am not here here to impress you or anyone. So, if you drop by, obviously by mistake, give a shout. Umm, shout, I probably could never hear it. Better leave a comment. Thanks.

P.S.S. Whats' up with this story? I have no idea. I just wanted to write and here I am writing.

We might be dead by tomorrow.

Have you ever wondered what tomorrow might bring? Tomorrow is like a hope, we look it up as the light at the end of the tunnel. We prefer to think that as the synonym of restored hope that we are finally getting out of the darkness that prolonged us, that drowned us and that small light at the end of the tunnel is the escape. We could have thought it as the light from the train. And that this day where we dwell in the shadows of darkness is the last  living moment, but there is still hope because there still is an opening from where the train made its' way. We might as well get lucky and jump around our enthusiasm and strive towards that little light we call hope, for the eternal bliss of freedom; freedom from the monotonous darkness that screamed around us in silence as we struggled and cried for the one thing hope. But we  keep aside all our cons and move ahead hoping that there is escape. Then we wake up. Realize it was a beautiful dream and pray to god that it were true. Because there would be nothing if there was no hope left in the people. 

We might be dead tomorrow! We could never come to the stage where we will even think ourselves of being on the verge of dying, not unless we are old and have an age beyond expectation. Death! A beautiful death is all we expect of, if we ever come to think of it. But we never see that far. We are hopeful of being more alive than being dead. It would be really stupid to think about being dead tomorrow. We could never live today as free as we want to. Hope, again I stress on this one word over and over again. Why? Because without it, there would be no life. People tell us to live in the present and weave dreams about our future. Ever since we were children we were told to dream, we were told to make those dreams come true, we were told to achieve the impossible. Isn't that what hope is all about? A promise of a beautiful tomorrow. We see ourselves ahead of time, the future looks elegant and beautiful and that gives us the strength and courage to live in the present more cautiously and careful, so that we could live that beautiful tomorrow that we had dreamed of as a child, which we dreamed of it for every second as we molded our hard work for the response of a pleasant tomorrow. 

But what if I were to tell that I find death more dearer than life. What would that make me? The sheer loss of hope and the shattered dreams that I wove as a child. I really don't know how to comprehend to that. But you might have seen whats' going on in the internet. It is like SWAG and people procrastinate with the concept of YOLO (You Only Live Once). But truth be told about it when one says You only live once , sure you are right. But you get to live each day of your life carrying yourself forward in the journey called life. But it would be rather apt if people instead of trying to be cool thought about You Only Die Once. Die, death! People are scared of this. Scared because they fear that their time will come (if it comes) before they have accomplished what they dreamed of, dreamt off as a child. Scared because they would have to leave everything may be in the middle, or likewise. But what if I told you I didn't want a tomorrow? What if I told you I didn't want a today? What if I told you I might be dead tomorrow ? 

P.S. : An adaptation inspired by the song title "We might be dead by Tomorrow" by SoKo. And the song is totally different from what I wrote. Like I said, I was just inspired by the title of the song. To say the least, it is a beautiful song. 

Eggshells.

Source : 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 

Warm tender heat

Broken Eggshells, Birth of Life

A new Beginning.

Warm tender heat

Empty Eggshells, Death of Life

A man's appetite .

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Struggling Hard

Breaking shells of barriers

Exploring new world.

This Haiku is written for 'Haiku Heights : April A2Z Heights - Day 05' for the prompt 'Eggshells' . 

P.S. : So, after I wrote this I went out for a reading spree to find out what others might have written. And I am truly amazed at their intuition and felt I missed something here. Don't actually know what, may be the intention of the word, the true meaning behind the word. 

Helpless Soul.

Source

Selfish People

Ignoring Helpless Soul

Humanity's Death!!

This is written for Haiku Heights under the Prompt Death. 

One Night.

NOTE :: This is an attempt by me in fiction. Read in a 'Narrative tone' and visualizing the scenes if possible. 

 

I was walking back home after a busy day at work. It was 21st of November and mid winter. The cold was killing and freezing my nerves. It was night and pitch dark/ The roads were silent. I could hear the ticking sound of my wrist watch. I gave it a glance. It showed 2330 hours. The calmness of the night was killing me. I have never been so late at work. And that day it was rather unusual. The roads aren't empty even if the clock strikes twelve. A vibration in my right pocket of my overcoat caught my attention. My phone was ringing. I slipped my old sleazy phone and flipped it open to check who was calling. It was the call from the customer care, saying that if I don't pay the due by tomorrow, my connection will be invalid. I just ignored it and kept it safely back in the pocket. I was on the pavement striding back to my rented house. "Oh my god!!", I exclaimed remembering the ugly old house owner. He was so stubborn. He was never interested in giving the room to me, as if the room was once visited and stayed by Queen Elizabeth. It was one ugly broken room. If I had not taken it, no one else would have taken it. I found it much cheaper than the remaining houses, at that time. It was a small room with a broken window and a small shabby bathroom. The public bathrooms are much better that that one. A small broken bed, which I think was used by his great-great grandfather. And the room was almost falling apart. I guess it was built is some early 16th century. I can tell this by the architecture it had and the material with which it was made, which was so weak. I had no other choice. I just came with a few clothes and a few books in my hand to do my studying thing. I knew no one in this foreign land. All were busy with their work and not even during graduation. I found no one quite helpful to me. I was alone.

The chilling night froze my legs and I could walk no further. I saw a park near by. It was calm and had a bench. I went near it collected some dry leaves and lit it with the lighter. And I sat down thinking of making money as fast as I can. My eyes caught the attention of the beauty of the night. The night working clad and the buildings lit up the dark night. The reflection of the light in the river was mesmerising to watch. I totally forgot about myself and let the images of my childhood play in front of my eyes. My hand slowly went into the left pocket of my overcoat, where I usually keep my cigarettes. "Damn", exclaimed I. I didn't had the money to buy that even. I woke up from my childhood-projection and started feeling the warmth of the burnt dry leaves. The night owls were out for their preys and making conversations to each other. The squealing noise of the blind bats was too much annoying. There was a swing at the corner of the park. Actually, it was no more a park and no more a playing area for the kids. It was an abandoned park. All that were left were the traces of the things which were used and left behind. The cold wind gave me a small chill in the spine. The heat was dying out, the leaves were flying randomly and I could not sustain the cold. I collected much more dry leaves and broken twigs and made the fire. Again my hand went to the left pocket for a cigarette as a habit. But I could find one. I just wasn't feeling well. I had a very bad day at work. I was pinned up by my boss for the mistake I never did. I knew a man, who was too jealous of me. This was my fifth job this year, and I could not just lose it again, due to some ugly bastard eying my work. I was too much sincere and though I did the projects and work, he always took the credit for an excuse to be in my group. I should have never allowed that and should have asked for a different group. I never knew his ugly thoughts and ideas for getting up the rank utilizing others hard work. I should have realized it much earlier. Today, he just made it a big issue by claiming me to the culprit in not submitting the project. But in reality, I had submitted it the previous day. I had to stay up the evening and re-submit it. It made me late. I was the last one to leave the workplace. It was cold outside and I just couldn't bear it. I was breaking the twigs in my hand as i was thinking about the events that happened in the morning. It made me angry, but I could do nothing.


The fire went down the fury and ended into the smoke while I recovered myself from the eventful history of the day. I could feel a sort of comfort in me with the small heat I made. I was now capable of making the journey back to my room. The streets were damn too silent. I looked at my watch. It was 0030 hours. It was too dark and the street lights were flickering. The incandescent light fell on the pavement on which I was walking. I was still in deep thought about the person who was acting so loyal but actually wasn't. I was way too far from my room. Actually, it takes me almost an hour to reach my room on a crowded evening. But today, I didn't feel like going to my room. But the cold was compelling to go as fast as I could. But I could walk faster. I saw a man pass by me fast on the other side of the road. I thought he was also late and hence was walking fast to reach his destination. Seconds passes by and the man disappeared in the turn at the end of the street.


"Somebody Help", a fine lady's voice broke the silence of the night. The voice revealed some sort of frightfulness. I quickly ran to the direction o the noise. It was the same path which the man took. I reached the corner of the road and gave a peek at the side road. It was dark, much darker than the remaining area. But the slightly glowing street light was sufficient to know what was happening. A man was holding a gun. I don't know what type of gun it was. He didn't see me nor did the lady. The man was holding a purse in the other hand and I saw her giving the cell phone also. She was literally crying, but with no voice. As he had already ordered her to remain silent or else he would shoot. I slowly crawled behind the shadows and tried to go near the scene. As I was crawling a hard thing in my pocket hit my hand. It was my phone. I immediately dialed 911.


"Hello, you have reached the emergency services", said a voice in the other side.

"He..e..ll..o", I was speaking, but I realised that the cold had freezed my jaws.

"What type of service do you want... Police, Ambulance, .. " continued the voice in the other side. I have never called for any emergency service and I never knew there was so much of ado in the procedure. I immediately responded

"Police, please. Its urgent. 27th street,Math street. Immediately please.", I said these with utmost caution without alarming the man and the lady.

"We will be sending a patrol car in a few seconds", said the voice from the control room and I was relieved from the call. I never knew that I could make a call. I forgot about the due in my phone balance.

Meanwhile....

"I have give you everything, I have. And I don't have anything else with me. Please let me go", said the lady from whom the man in the black overcoat took everything from her.He checked the money in the purse. It was huge and was sufficient for two months for a person like me.

"I am not satisfied with the money", said a hoarse voice, the voice of the man in the black overcoat. I anticipated his ugly desire. I no longer could stay in the dark and slowly came to light. The woman caught my attention and now I could see her face clearly. She was in a complete helpless state. And I no longer could take it.

"Please help me, he robbed me of everything and..." the lady was addressing me and the man turned towards me. I don't know what happened to me. I was bold enough to face him.

"Leave the lady alone. You got what you wanted. You got the money. So, now leave her alone.", I said in sort of a commanding voice.

"Its none of your business. Gett the helll out of here and better mind your work." darted the man pointing the revolver on me.

"I guess you also got what you wanted. So, now leavee..",  as I was saying, i was moving forward towards the lady.
I was moving slowly, but he could see me moving a opened fire in the empty air above. I could not it. It was rather too loud. I was shivering in one side and trying to protect the lady too. I was almost in the lion's den now. I was in the middle of both of them.

"Hey, don't you move a inch further or else I will shoot. Now, get the hell out of here.C'mon move your ass off here".
He pointed the gun towards me and the lady. I had a phone in my hand and I wasn't sure what to do. The cops haven't yet arrived. Its been some fifteen minutes and I couldn't the sight of them. I held the phone harder and thought of aiming it at the gun. I wasn't good at aim-hitting. I quickly pulled out my hand and threw it in the direction of the gun. I wasn't thinking. I could not. Luckily, it did hit the gun, but before it he had already shot the bullet. I could hear it in the silence of the night. I quickly gave a glance at the lady. She was fine. She wasn't hit. I thought, he missed the shot. The gun fell far from his reach. I quickly moved toward him to catch him. But was prepared for it and welcomed me with a punch. But luckily, I wasn't fast enough to receive it. I signalled the lady to run and call the cops. I stumbled and fell on him. This he didn't expect. This time, I tried giving him a nice shot. Though I did, but the frozen-stricken hands did not do much impact on him. I gave him another one. By now, he was ready to face it and defended it and gave me one hard hit. I moved back and fell on the ground. I could hear the siren of the cops. The could not feel anything. Just a small pain in the chest. But he hit me in the face. I saw blood oozing out of my chest. Now, it was hurting me much more. Was I shot? I went unconscious.


NEXT DAY NEWSPAPERS::

"A heroic man dies in an attempt to save a lady".


P.S. :: This is my first attempt on fiction. Actually I didn't want to end up like this. I am working on a similar genre of the story. So, if you people like this or have any suggestions to add, please drop by your suggestions. I would be glad to hear from you and would try to make it much more interesting.