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The Dark Passenger - Chapter 1
The Beginning
My uncle, a truly good person, was the reason I tried to avoid him at first. But he thought differently. He believed that he lost his brother because of his mistake and wanted to make up for it by taking care of me. The day my uncle died marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life, though I didn't realize it at the time. His death was sudden, a heart attack that left my aunt and me in shock. My uncle had been my guardian, my protector, and the one who took me in after my father's demise. Now, it was just my aunt and me, alone in the large, empty house.
In the wake of my uncle's death, my aunt decided to leave India and move to Australia to be with her son. Before she left, she hired a maid named Malli to look after the house. Malli was a tall woman with a slender build, her hair always neatly tied back in a bun, revealing a sharp, defined jawline. She had an air of quiet determination about her, her eyes dark and observant, taking in every detail of her surroundings. She wore simple, well-maintained sarees, usually in muted colors, with a touch of practicality that indicated her readiness for work.
Malli managed the household with remarkable precision. She was not only meticulous in keeping the house spotless, ensuring every surface gleamed and every item was in its proper place, but she was also an excellent cook. Each meal she prepared was a testament to her skill, and she always knew exactly what I needed, often anticipating my needs before I even realized them myself. I noticed how she always carried a small cloth tucked in her saree, ready to wipe away any speck of dust she encountered, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the kitchen. Her work was impeccable, and it was clear she took pride in maintaining the household to the highest standard.
Despite her efficiency and attention to detail, there was an underlying sadness about her. It was in the way her shoulders slumped slightly when she thought no one was watching, and in the faraway look in her eyes during quiet moments. I often wondered what burdens she carried, but I never asked.
Malli had a young daughter, Chinni,...
My uncle, a truly good person, was the reason I tried to avoid him at first. But he thought differently. He believed that he lost his brother because of his mistake and wanted to make up for it by taking care of me. The day my uncle died marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life, though I didn't realize it at the time. His death was sudden, a heart attack that left my aunt and me in shock. My uncle had been my guardian, my protector, and the one who took me in after my father's demise. Now, it was just my aunt and me, alone in the large, empty house.
In the wake of my uncle's death, my aunt decided to leave India and move to Australia to be with her son. Before she left, she hired a maid named Malli to look after the house. Malli was a tall woman with a slender build, her hair always neatly tied back in a bun, revealing a sharp, defined jawline. She had an air of quiet determination about her, her eyes dark and observant, taking in every detail of her surroundings. She wore simple, well-maintained sarees, usually in muted colors, with a touch of practicality that indicated her readiness for work.
Malli managed the household with remarkable precision. She was not only meticulous in keeping the house spotless, ensuring every surface gleamed and every item was in its proper place, but she was also an excellent cook. Each meal she prepared was a testament to her skill, and she always knew exactly what I needed, often anticipating my needs before I even realized them myself. I noticed how she always carried a small cloth tucked in her saree, ready to wipe away any speck of dust she encountered, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the kitchen. Her work was impeccable, and it was clear she took pride in maintaining the household to the highest standard.
Despite her efficiency and attention to detail, there was an underlying sadness about her. It was in the way her shoulders slumped slightly when she thought no one was watching, and in the faraway look in her eyes during quiet moments. I often wondered what burdens she carried, but I never asked.
Malli had a young daughter, Chinni,...
