Two weeks

It’s been two weeks now. It’s incessant. I really wish it would stop, whoever it was behind this would just stop. There it was again, right on time. Maybe I’ll just let it ring. No, I’m not going to answer it. Not again. The sound of that soft cold voice, that said it so bluntly, so clearly, every time, the same words said in the same way. I could hear it already. Loud and clear over my cheery ringtone.


“I know what you did,” click.

The metro is crowded as usual. Most of them get off before the hospital. So many people, so many different faces, shapes and sizes and yet they all look the same. Heads down, making themselves small, and staring into a world far away from the one around them. Dreary eyed folk all doing the same thing. What would they do if their thumb gave up on them one day? Would they stop scrolling or would we come up with another way of solving our meaningless insignificant lives? How would we get our daily dose then? It would be fun to see what withdrawal looked like. How did we let it come to this? This must stop. That 9 AM phone call must stop. The first time it happened, I thought I’d imagined it. I blamed it on the fact that I’d been awake for 48 hours straight. But it rang again the next day and the day after that and it’s continued since. For two weeks I’ve wondered about the identity of the woman on the other end of the line, but found no answer. Who was she? More importantly, how did she know? I thought it was some friends messing about. I’d confronted all of them, made a few of them cry and felt like the most depraved creature on earth. Shit, it’s time to get off this train.

As I walked through the station amongst the many fast paced sweaty bags of meat around me, I noticed a beautiful girl from the corner of my eye. She was dressed in a loosely fitted white t-shirt, skinny jeans and had a brown slack bag across her shoulder. Probably in her mid-20s. With short hair up to her shoulder and an umbrella in one hand, she walked without a care in the world. Maybe that’s what got my eye. She seemed to be walking past me.

That smell…

Cold wet marble met my face the next instant and they didn’t get along. What just happened? My face grew the sort of numb that you knew it would cause you a great deal of pain soon. I felt the world move around me and could have sworn I heard something snap.

Her face…

She kneeled down. I could see her clearly now. My heart was pounding, and it wasn’t from the fall. I recognized that face from that fateful night, two weeks ago. Those eyes. They weren’t lifeless anymore. Instead they glimmered with mischief and her smile gave away her pride. Then she mouthed those very same words:

“I know what you did,” and bolted.

Get up. Get up and go. Run. Breathe. Go get her.

I found my feet, gathered my senses and ran. By this time, the meat bags were all around me. A new source of entertainment to distract them from the 5-inch slabs in their pockets. Stumbling out of the station, I looked around for her, wondering where she went. This could not possibly be happening. I thought there was no evidence.

Then I spotted her. There she was, standing right across the road, leaning back against the wall. She smiled at me as she typed on her phone and put it away, never once breaking eye contact. I could barely see her through the cars zipping by when I felt a vibration in my pocket.

New Message:
Thank you.

I looked up. She was gone.

Day 3 of the 100 Day Project
This is a fictional story I wrote as part of my 100 Day Project: Do things you’ve never done before, everyday for a 100 days. Hope you enjoyed reading it.

If you have something in mind that I could add to my 100 Day Project, do let me know. The more, the merrier.

Thanks Advait for your help with this piece.

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