A Knock in the Night
Meena’s night takes a chilling turn when a knock at the door leads to a ghostly encounter. As past betrayals resurface, she uncovers a sinister twist of fate. Revenge, deception, and a haunting secret converge in this tale of love and betrayal.
Knock knock knock. The door she opened sleepily, rubbing her smoky eyes. She had just returned from a late night party with her colleagues at Planet Xanadu.
She presumed it was her friend Arpana who had taken off with her boyfriend, maybe to make out behind the creepy, huge rocks beside the calm, romantic sea.
“Coming in you bitch”, Meena uttered below her breath, for she couldn’t bear her to be heard, for it was Arpana’s flat she was residing in, gifted by one sugar daddy who had long since passed away and so had Arpana moved on to a new lover.
This was a new conquest and he wasn’t that loaded. He was a writer and singer, and yes, he was penniless.
Lost to addiction and women, he had dwindled his family’s fortunes and now found solace in the arms of the sporty, yet sensual body that Arpana used to get any man she wanted.
Meena still felt a pang of hurt as fresh as a year back when she had caught her boyfriend, Tashi kissing Arpana in gay abandon.
That was the last straw, she chose friendship over love for she knew Arpana wasn’t even in her senses and neither was her boyfriend.
The one who had courted her for five years, finally won her trust only to be broken so badly now.
Meena looked at the two trying to explain themselves and she felt nothing.
She went on being best friends with the two, even accompanied them on their dates and listened to their noises made behind the thin walls of their adjoining rooms.
Meena plugged on her ear phones took out her diary and started writing a story.
She didn’t feel anything. All the emotions she poured into those characters were limited to words, the writer in her was emotionless
One Year Later…
Meena was brought back to her senses as she heard the persistent banging on the door.
Now she opened it wide enough to allow both the lovers to enter.
But no one came inside, just a gust of wind, a chilly drift.
She thought she was suffering from delusions as she shut the door.
It was three in the morning, her sleep was disturbed and she walked into the kitchen and made a cup of chai.
Then she heard a terrible scream that nearly made her choke to death.
It came from the hall. She wasn’t scared, for it was only people who scared her these days.
She noticed Arpana’s beautiful picture frame had fallen off its hook.
There was something in the air, something cold and sad.
Came morning, she sat writing yet another story, and then the newspaper delivery boy came whistling and smiled at her.
She read the paper and nearly puked her breakfast onto it.
The headlines read: “Lovers killed in a gruesome accident.”
The picture of a bloody Arpana and Tashi appeared as a mass of bloody embrace of a still death, of a double betrayal.
Meena then smiled and calmly dialled the number, “Hello I see the job’s done, the money will be delivered shortly.”
Meena washed her face, put on fresh make up and said: “I forgive you both, rest in peace eternally.”
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