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Guilty Conscience
The house is empty, the footsteps of passerby on the adjoining road echos hauntingly. Finneas walks with careful steps, his knees shaking like jelly. Then he faces his arch enemy, the door to his study room. Finneas's study room is located in the darkest part of the house, even in the day time there is no natural light here. Finneas stops right outside and looks over his shoulder, his whole being trembling with the fear of unknown. "Relax, you are just overreacting, there's nothing here." He solaces himself and pushes the door only half way through. The darkness inside the room overwhelms him and the courage in him dies, he couldn't tell if he is being coward or careful; afterall, those who are too brave die first in horror movies. He discards the thought and with trembling hands search for the light switch in the darkness located right beside the gate. He makes it a point to not set a foot inside before light is turned on. He does it with such anxiety as though he has put his hand inside a hungry lion's mouth. He sighs audibly with relief when finally, he reaches the switch he wanted to turn on. His heart still hammering inside his chest he steps inside the room almost reluctantly, he avoids glancing at the mirror for the fear of finding anything around him that he couldn't bear to see. Finally, he starts studying almost simultaneously cursing his parents to have left him alone for a week and they are due to come only after two days. Hours pass, he forgets his fear and immerses himself in studying, the silence, the paranoia, everything is forgotten.
He almost falls backwards with his chair on the sound of a loud crack coming from the cupboard that sits beside his table. He holds his heart, racing faster than any F1 car, his lungs contract. With bated breath he looks apprehensively towards the cupboard for a while, no other sound issues. "Old cupboard are like that, it could be a r-rat o-o-o-or could be wood cracking, t-t-that happens with old wood all t-too often" he talks loudly with himself trying to suppress the silence lingering after the loud noise. The lights go out there is nothing else left to do, his legs shiver and he runs but where!? The door is locked, he bangs on the door, pushes and pulls but it's hopelessly shut.
“Going somewhere?" The voice asks him from behind, but how!? He was alone in the room, in the house! He looks behind him, terror clutching at his insides like a fist of steel. His knees give out when he sees a broad figure standing in front of him, the scar on her face glinting like lava in the dark. "Please. I'm sorry," he begs "I didn't know....." his voice trembles. "I begged you same way."
It was almost two years ago when Finneas saw her face for the first time. She was a transfer student who had just joined his class but she became butt of every joke first day onwards. She had a scar on her face, a cruel reminder of her ugly childhood. She has grown up as quite an anxious kid and in her anxiety she had a tendency to eat a lot. This led to her gaining a lot of weight, so much so that she took almost double the amount of space it would take anyone else of her age. Finneas was her biggest nightmare, she would find something sprawled on the board or her desk everyday that reminded her how ugly she was. But this wasn't enough for him, he went further. He invited her to a party, extending a hand of friendship and asked her to bury the hatchet but things went straight to hell as soon as she went inside. The door was closed and now she was in everyone's eyes, they called her ugly, elephant, witch and threw at her any insult they could conjure. But she wasn't going down easy, she threw an equal amount of insult on them leaving them scarlet and crimson in face with embarrassment. She thought she won the war but then things turned on their head.
They forced her to strip, every cloth was taken off from her leaving only her inner clothes on. Then she was made to look in a mirror "look your ugly highness, look at yourself" they guffawed. She sat on her knees clutching herself tightly, sobbing hysterically. Her skin crawled with spiders and scorpions of embarrassment stung her insides. She knew at that point of time what she was going to do, what option was left with her. Through their ricocheting laughter she could hear her own innerself very clearly.
"Stop there. Please, stop. Don't!" he pleads. A pain rises in his chest and his hand, which feels much like stabs just ten times worse. The blood pools in his face, he clutches his chest as his feeble efforts to pick himself up off the ground fails, his eyes stare at her very much out of their sockets.
When his parents arrive two days later they are welcomed by a rank smell, they frantically search for Finneas only to find him dead in his study room. The post-mortem showed the reason for death was heart attack, but he was just 17. Police asked if he was stressing over something and his parents look each other in the eyes, they know that she had mentioned his name clearly in her suicide note before jumping off the ninth floor to her death. But still, why was the door of study room closed from outside, this question leaves even police officers perplexed. There were no other fingerprint on the lock other than house members and there was no sign of any forced entry either. Knowing this, the two best friends smile: one secretly, standing in Finneas's funeral, the other in her grave, now finally settling inside it in peace.
© The Mirage
He almost falls backwards with his chair on the sound of a loud crack coming from the cupboard that sits beside his table. He holds his heart, racing faster than any F1 car, his lungs contract. With bated breath he looks apprehensively towards the cupboard for a while, no other sound issues. "Old cupboard are like that, it could be a r-rat o-o-o-or could be wood cracking, t-t-that happens with old wood all t-too often" he talks loudly with himself trying to suppress the silence lingering after the loud noise. The lights go out there is nothing else left to do, his legs shiver and he runs but where!? The door is locked, he bangs on the door, pushes and pulls but it's hopelessly shut.
“Going somewhere?" The voice asks him from behind, but how!? He was alone in the room, in the house! He looks behind him, terror clutching at his insides like a fist of steel. His knees give out when he sees a broad figure standing in front of him, the scar on her face glinting like lava in the dark. "Please. I'm sorry," he begs "I didn't know....." his voice trembles. "I begged you same way."
It was almost two years ago when Finneas saw her face for the first time. She was a transfer student who had just joined his class but she became butt of every joke first day onwards. She had a scar on her face, a cruel reminder of her ugly childhood. She has grown up as quite an anxious kid and in her anxiety she had a tendency to eat a lot. This led to her gaining a lot of weight, so much so that she took almost double the amount of space it would take anyone else of her age. Finneas was her biggest nightmare, she would find something sprawled on the board or her desk everyday that reminded her how ugly she was. But this wasn't enough for him, he went further. He invited her to a party, extending a hand of friendship and asked her to bury the hatchet but things went straight to hell as soon as she went inside. The door was closed and now she was in everyone's eyes, they called her ugly, elephant, witch and threw at her any insult they could conjure. But she wasn't going down easy, she threw an equal amount of insult on them leaving them scarlet and crimson in face with embarrassment. She thought she won the war but then things turned on their head.
They forced her to strip, every cloth was taken off from her leaving only her inner clothes on. Then she was made to look in a mirror "look your ugly highness, look at yourself" they guffawed. She sat on her knees clutching herself tightly, sobbing hysterically. Her skin crawled with spiders and scorpions of embarrassment stung her insides. She knew at that point of time what she was going to do, what option was left with her. Through their ricocheting laughter she could hear her own innerself very clearly.
"Stop there. Please, stop. Don't!" he pleads. A pain rises in his chest and his hand, which feels much like stabs just ten times worse. The blood pools in his face, he clutches his chest as his feeble efforts to pick himself up off the ground fails, his eyes stare at her very much out of their sockets.
When his parents arrive two days later they are welcomed by a rank smell, they frantically search for Finneas only to find him dead in his study room. The post-mortem showed the reason for death was heart attack, but he was just 17. Police asked if he was stressing over something and his parents look each other in the eyes, they know that she had mentioned his name clearly in her suicide note before jumping off the ninth floor to her death. But still, why was the door of study room closed from outside, this question leaves even police officers perplexed. There were no other fingerprint on the lock other than house members and there was no sign of any forced entry either. Knowing this, the two best friends smile: one secretly, standing in Finneas's funeral, the other in her grave, now finally settling inside it in peace.
© The Mirage
