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| Image courtesy: Google Images |
She was a
bad writer. Her stories never made any sense, and neither did her
language. Her 10 self-published books hardly fetched her any readers.
She had begun losing sleep as she was in desperate need of money. All
she needed was a workable story idea which could pay the rent and bills;
rest, she thought, could be polished by a ghost writer.
On
the last day of May, at sundown, she felt a bizarre tingling in her
heavily pregnant belly. She felt as though the baby was trying to tickle
her from the inside. It was these moments which made her think that
there should have been someone she could share such small joys with.
Brushing the loneliness aside, she sat down to write.
Her
thin frame with her eight-month-old belly bump couldn’t sit still. She
had absolutely no idea what to write on. Sipping on her chocolate
milkshake, she sat contemplating near the window whether to take up some
job. As she was blankly staring outside her window, she saw a black
frame of a little boy standing on the edge of the terrace top of the
neighboring building. Since it was almost dark, she was unable to figure
out what that little boy looked like. Oddly enough, the tingle in her
belly increased.
“Hey! Here! Look down,
here!” she waved and called out to the boy. The little black frame
didn’t move an inch. She called out loudly, again. Nothing happened.
“Hey
little boy, get down of the terrace top! I’ll call your mother,” she
yelled sharply. In the dark, now, she could see the head of the boy
turned towards her. Suddenly, she felt her baby kick inside her belly.
There
it was! An idea struck her mind. She was going to write a tragic story
about a little orphan boy who would later turn out to be a vigilante.
Not an original idea, but she could refine it later, she thought. Even
as she was happy for having thought of something, she felt a bit
scared when that black frame kept looking in her direction with stony
stillness. She waved and called out again, but to no avail. “What if he
jumps to his death? Has he been abandoned? How has his mother been so
careless?” These thoughts troubled her.
She
then decided to meet the boy. Her belly kept tingling crazy as if the
baby in it was trying to say something; maybe warning its mother against
leaving the house. Nonetheless, her curiosity made her leave the house
and head towards to the opposite building’s terrace where the little
boy’s motionless figure stood.
As
she reached the entrance, she hurriedly asked the security guard if he
could help. He dismissed her saying no one has the keys to the terrace
top, except him. She insisted that she did see the boy. Unwillingly, the
grumpy guard accompanied her to the terrace top to see if there was any
kid at all. The door of the terrace top was locked. He looked at her
with a smug expression. Nevertheless, he opened the terrace door, only
so he could mock her.
The terrace top was pitch dark. The guard flashed his torchlight in all directions but couldn’t see any boy.
“Yes, ma’am. Where’s the boy?” He asked her with a smirk.
She followed the guard and looked around.
“There. See,” she said softly pointing towards the south end of the terrace top.
The little boy had now turned his frame towards her as she informed the guard.
She
could now see that the boy wore, what she figured in the dark, were
tattered clothes. But couldn’t see his face. He was standing still as a
mannequin.
The guard wore a puzzled
expression. Annoyed, he shouted at her for wasting his time as he was
not able to see any boy. It was then she suddenly felt her baby, insider
her belly, kick her. As she looked up, the boy standing at the south
end of the terrace top now seemed a bit closer. But his little black
frame was still standing motionless.
The
irritated guard asked her to leave. She looked at the little boy and saw
he was a few more steps closer. She asked the guard to flash his
torchlight in the boy’s direction. But he wasn’t listening to her. He
sensed that there was something spooky with this woman and wanted to
leave the place.
She called to the little one lovingly, “Hey, baby, what’s your name? Where is your mother?”
No response.
Annoyed, the guard held her left arm tightly and began dragging her towards the exit door.
Suddenly,
she felt her belly twirl from the inside leaving her in excruciating
pain. She shrieked in pain. The guard was shocked as her shriek sounded
like an animal’s during a slaughter. He left her arm in a haste and ran
towards to the exit door.
She crouched on
the floor seeking support and heard a loud thud from behind. She turned
around. What she saw drained the blood from her face. The exit door had
fallen so hard that it cut the guard’s body into two symmetrical pieces. Scared and confused,
she yelled as loud as she could. When she turned around, she saw the
boy, again motionless, standing only a few feet away from her. She could
now see his face a little clearly. His round face reminded her of
someone. Someone familiar. Her belly burnt from the inside.
“Who
are you and what do you want?” She asked as she slowly tried to make
her way towards the exit. However, she felt she couldn’t move her limbs.
Was she paralyzed?
She saw the black frame
of the boy slowly lift his hand and pointing it towards her belly and
whispering in the most melodious voice: ‘I want your baby, Sheila.’ She
was still not able to recall the familiarity in the boy’s face.
She gave another loud shriek and jolted back from her nightmare.
Her
coffee mug was empty, and all dried up. She didn’t realise when she had
fallen asleep and her nightmare woke her up at 3 am in the morning.
Sweaty and scared, she looked at the terrace top of the same
neighbouring building but couldn’t see any little boy standing there.
Later that night, she slept peacefully in many days as she now had a story idea in mind.
(Please forgive me for this long post. But hope you liked the story. Please comment/critique below so I'll know if I anyone at all reads my blog! :D )
