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The Maid Pt.1
Varun and I met at an Internship ten years ago, during the middle of our college degrees. And became a couple four years later. For six years, we dated, until our families were sick of it and pooled enough money to get us married off three months ago.
It seemed that all was well for a while, until we received Varun's transfer notice. He was to be shifted to another pocket of the country within a month. The government would take care of his move. His parents were supportive and I too found myself coming to terms with living with his family. That was until his parents decided to up and leave to their ancestral property, leaving me at the crossroads.
I decided to rent an apartment instead of following my in-laws. I mean, they were nice and all, but I had a job and honestly, this newfound independence could teach me a thing or two. So I found myself renting a small studio apartment near my workplace.
By that time Varun had settled in well enough. We'd often talk on my way to and fro work and at night before bed. It had become a ritual. And he'd often tell me about the characters at his work and this weird woman who came as the househelp. It'd tickle my curiosities and make me feel less lonely in my daily life. But fate it seemed hated any semblance of stability in my life...
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One night, as I was leaving my office, walking down the steps to the sidewalk, my head low and my fingers scrolling through my contacts to find the one I dialled often, I begin to hear footsteps behind me. Now, it was a relatively commercial area and I was by no means alarmed, so I kept walking with the phone pressed against my ear, eager to hear my husband's voice after a long day. When he answers the phone, I go on about my day and ask about his. We laugh about his repeated lunches at work. But something feels off. I keep hearing the footsteps behind me even as I cross the road to enter the lane that eventually ended at the entrance to my apartment complex. My stomach feels queasy. And I pause for a moment. Varun picks up on it immediately.
"What's wrong?" He asks sombrely. I hesitate for a moment.
"I don't know. I'll let you know once I get home." I rush out to him, before hurrying a little, with the call still going on. And like clockwork, I hear the footsteps behind me begin to grow heavier as if they were trying to catch up without bridging the gap. "I'll talk to you in 2 minutes, okay?" I mumble to the receiver, before hanging up and jogging up to the entrance gate, thanking my stars when I notice the security guard at the main gate. But he was dozing off in his seat. Oh no. It was time for me to awkwardly wake him up before the person behind me could come closer. I approached the security desk and rapped on the table with my knuckles. "Hello?" I say, loud enough to make him rouse. "Any parcels for me?" I ask him just to make conversation. I knew there was nothing. He shook his head but sat up straighter, before I saw his eyes drift behind me. He stood up and frowned. But I didn't stand around to hear him confront whoever was behind me, I jogged my way to the elevator and immediately got inside, before punching in the digits...
It seemed that all was well for a while, until we received Varun's transfer notice. He was to be shifted to another pocket of the country within a month. The government would take care of his move. His parents were supportive and I too found myself coming to terms with living with his family. That was until his parents decided to up and leave to their ancestral property, leaving me at the crossroads.
I decided to rent an apartment instead of following my in-laws. I mean, they were nice and all, but I had a job and honestly, this newfound independence could teach me a thing or two. So I found myself renting a small studio apartment near my workplace.
By that time Varun had settled in well enough. We'd often talk on my way to and fro work and at night before bed. It had become a ritual. And he'd often tell me about the characters at his work and this weird woman who came as the househelp. It'd tickle my curiosities and make me feel less lonely in my daily life. But fate it seemed hated any semblance of stability in my life...
-----
One night, as I was leaving my office, walking down the steps to the sidewalk, my head low and my fingers scrolling through my contacts to find the one I dialled often, I begin to hear footsteps behind me. Now, it was a relatively commercial area and I was by no means alarmed, so I kept walking with the phone pressed against my ear, eager to hear my husband's voice after a long day. When he answers the phone, I go on about my day and ask about his. We laugh about his repeated lunches at work. But something feels off. I keep hearing the footsteps behind me even as I cross the road to enter the lane that eventually ended at the entrance to my apartment complex. My stomach feels queasy. And I pause for a moment. Varun picks up on it immediately.
"What's wrong?" He asks sombrely. I hesitate for a moment.
"I don't know. I'll let you know once I get home." I rush out to him, before hurrying a little, with the call still going on. And like clockwork, I hear the footsteps behind me begin to grow heavier as if they were trying to catch up without bridging the gap. "I'll talk to you in 2 minutes, okay?" I mumble to the receiver, before hanging up and jogging up to the entrance gate, thanking my stars when I notice the security guard at the main gate. But he was dozing off in his seat. Oh no. It was time for me to awkwardly wake him up before the person behind me could come closer. I approached the security desk and rapped on the table with my knuckles. "Hello?" I say, loud enough to make him rouse. "Any parcels for me?" I ask him just to make conversation. I knew there was nothing. He shook his head but sat up straighter, before I saw his eyes drift behind me. He stood up and frowned. But I didn't stand around to hear him confront whoever was behind me, I jogged my way to the elevator and immediately got inside, before punching in the digits...
