Enough..

(Image source: Google)

I looked at his body, so silent in death while my cries echoed round my heart. The pain, the humiliation, the fear all came back in a rush; the torment he had subjected me to night after night in the shabby attic while his wife lay asleep, blissfully unaware as my tattered body screamed silently in agony.  In the mornings I would go through the house like a ghost, his cold eyes following my frail body as I worked quietly in the kitchens, a maid by day and a whore by night.

(Image source: Google)

But I have had enough; I looked at the fresh blood staining my hands and slipped out quietly into the night. And as the rain washed away the blood and the pain, I disappeared into the dark, knowing his cold eyes would follow me no more.

Written as part of the Five Sentence Fiction prompt.

Word Prompt: Rain

Guilty Pleasure..

    I drove through the wild stormy night, the rain pouring down in torrents, blurring my vision and mind. I reached the hospital breathless and apprehensive, my emotions a scattered mess, my heart in a reckless turmoil, fearful of the sight that was to greet my senses.

   As I entered Raj’s cabin and looked down at the lifeless body wrecked by years of smoking, I broke down and gave in to the mindless torrent like the heavens above. My best friend, pale and peaceful in his unworldly slumber, reached out to me from those dark depths to torture my mind with flashes of the past whence he had inevitably given in to smoking under my ruthless pressure. Guilt assaulted my already frail senses and I reached for the cigarette; as the smoke filled my lungs I deeply breathed in the stale stink of the hospital cabin and left the place.

  This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Dearly Departed...

So there I lay, my physical body ghastly white and strangely eerie in its death slumber, rotting slowly away as the crowd sheathed in black moved quietly about. I stood there behind the priest, a transparent shadow of my former self, looking down at the dead body I so strongly wanted to possess yet again. My body had something clutched tightly in its fingers, holding on to it like some talisman of strength. And as I watched the crowd slowly gathered around, mournful and gloomy, whispering softly amongst themselves.

As the funeral proceeded, I looked around at the few faces I had held dear to my heart. They stood holding hands, tears streaming down their faces silently. I was strangely unmoved, unable to feel anything but restlessness. I stared and stared at the crowd feeling no sorrow and no longer craving their love. All I felt was a deep need to possess my physical body and fulfilling some unresolved forgotten purpose that loomed somewhere in between the blurred memories of my past.

I drifted away slowly from the crowd trying to recall what it was I so strongly craved even after death, when all physical and social temptations seemed to have deserted me. And suddenly the crowd parted to reveal a pit dug deep in the ground. The coffin was slowly lowered, its confines holding my decaying body. Unfamiliar faces gathered around the box, softly throwing back the brown earth over the coffin, returning the body to nurture the earth it rose from, with its remnants. As the earth fell over me, shrouding me softly with darkness, my vision blurred. The voices became softer, my transparent self that I had so strongly been aware of diminishing softly and disappearing as more earth fell over my coffin.

I was now desperate, trying hard to recall what it was I so strongly craved. And as my vision and senses blurred further, it came back to me like a flash of lightning in the darkness. And as I faded away slowly into nothingness my awareness clutched tightly around the pen in my fingers knowing desperately somewhere that it wanted to be remembered.