A vigorous
push reluctantly awakened her from her near-unconscious state. She could barely open her eyes. Being a surgeon had its advantages, she knew which medication worked best. So deep was her sleep that she was almost lifted up from the
bed. The radium clock displayed 3:30 a.m. on its green dial. The
living room appeared lit. As she shifted her languid gaze towards
the bedroom door that opened into the living-dining lounge she noticed a shadow move. ‘Must be the birds’, she wondered. ‘Did I forget to switch off the light? Or is it the moonlight scattering in through the window?’ Before she could pull
her thoughts together about the events post-dinner and pre-bed, her friend nudged her again.
‘What?’ Irked, she asked trying not to sound rude.
‘Do you think he is Maya?’ her friend replied in a spooky whisper alluding to a third person’s presence. ‘Who is Maya? And why the hell are you whispering?’ Annoyed, she asked in an indeliberate hushed tone. ‘Why am I whispering?’ The realization sent shivers down her spine. Maya didn’t picture well in her imagination at that odd hour. Unconsciously, she whispered back in the same ghostly tone again, “You are scaring me.’
‘Am petrified.’
‘Of what?’
‘Can't you see?'
‘See what? Did you switch on the living room light? When did you come to my room?’
‘No! I didn’t! I think the Maya did!’
Maya, the Indian word for delusion was a recent discovery after a short trip to the Himalayas a month back. The connotations could even be interpreted as paranormal. The thought made her uncomfortable. Both friends were sitting on the bed in a daze when the phone beeped. ‘A message? Now? May be an emergency at the hospital, she reflected when a draft of a chill breeze brushed her skin sending fresh shivers through her body. She turned towards the window. It was shut. ‘How did the breeze….'
Her friend interrupted her trance with a maffle, ‘Check the message.’
It was from him. She hadn’t met him in years. Almost a decade to be precise but he often sent her an email or a message describing in detail his many travel stories and adventurous escapades. She was told he was a travel journalist though there were times she questioned that information. Many a time they quarreled about his disappearing on her. He traveled to faraway lands yet he never took the time to meet her even once. Why? Why did he always ignore the mention of a meeting? His indifference had distanced her from him. She started keeping herself busy with work. With the many passing years, he became a distant memory that didn’t hurt anymore. Her thoughts trailed off to the last conversation they had when he was in her city ten years back. She had waited for him at the restaurant for four hours but he didn’t turn up. He sent an apology bouquet a day after with a note that he would make up for it. She had been unusually calm that day. She had removed the engagement ring, kept it in a box, and stowed it deep inside a locker. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She didn’t.
‘What did he write?’ her friend nudged. She turned her attention toward the message.
‘I am coming. He has written he is coming to see me,’ she smiled, surprising herself. She had perhaps, been unconsciously waiting for him for years. She could feel her cheeks warm up to an unexpected blush. She was about to reply to the message when she felt a searing pain up her wrist. Her friend had dug her nails into her hands. She was trembling unusually. Confused she tried to ask her what was bothering her when she heard the footsteps. The slow and steady footsteps were closing in from the living room.
‘There’s an intruder,’ her whisper got stuck in her throat.
‘Impossible!’ she tried to reason in her head, ‘If
someone broke in before we returned from
the hospital, where was he hiding?’ It
was a small 2 bedroom minimalist apartment with
bare basics. There was no visibly
obvious place to hide.
Both friends spent most of
their time at the hospital
and returned together. It was unlikely a break-in before their return. ‘Did the intruder break in now?’ The high rise was not easy to access and she clearly remembered locking the front door. She slid her hand under the pillow. The key was still there.
The sound of the footsteps closed in further. Terrified,
they watched the shadow enter their room before it abruptly halted at the door. She made an
attempt to ask, ‘Who?’ but the
word whiffed out soundlessly. She pinched herself, ‘Is it
a nightmare?’ Her friend’s ice-cold grip that almost numbed her wrist reminded her again, that this was no nightmare but worse.
She wanted to get up, walk out and confront the
intruder but she couldn’t. A strange fear had kept her bound. Helpless, she
sat there glued to the bed. Even the shadow stood still as if waiting for permission to enter. Whoever or whatever it was, it
was tall. Very tall. Myriad questions flooded her mind. ‘What is he waiting for?’ ‘Why isn’t he coming forward?’ ‘Why am I scared?’ ‘It’s just a petty thief probably.’
She could hear her heartbeat. She could hear her friend’s heavy breathing. She could hear a dog whine somewhere far on the street.’ ‘Why is it freezing cold inside? Did someone turn down the thermostat?’ random haphazard thoughts were echoing in her mind. Her phone beeped again. She wanted to read the message but fear had her paralyzed.
Next instant, all of a sudden she gathered her perturbed self, stood up, and stammered in an incoherent whisper, ‘Come on! Whoever that you are, do what you came to do.’ ‘Just do it.’ ‘Show up!’
The intruder stepped forward. She let out a loud piercing hysteric scream. Unbeknownst to her, her friend had passed out a while back.
***
When she opened her eyes, she was at the hospital, in the patient’s gown. She was on the drip and the nurse was staring at her curiously.
‘What happened to me?’ She asked. She could feel a throbbing
pain in her head.
‘By God's grace, Doctor, you’ve opened your eyes. We almost gave up. You have been unconscious for the last 48 hours.’
‘How did I reach here?’
‘Your fiancé brought you in.'
‘Is he around? I want to speak to him?’
‘He left an hour back. He said he would return around 5:00.’
‘Where is Anya?’
‘She is on drips too. She has been strange ever since she regained her consciousness. She kept mumbling about a shadow. She was ……’
‘Shadow’ brought back the memory of the other night. She choked.
‘Doctor, are you fine?’
‘Yes, I am. Please, send someone to get my phone from the apartment.’
‘Oh yes. Your fiancé left it here.’
The nurse handed her the phone. That night’s last message was still unread. She clicked on it.
‘I was too late. Forgive me. Won't you?
The face of the intruder flashed in front of her. It was the patient. The patient she had failed to save. The man’s face and body were burnt beyond recognition. He was one of the fifteen brought from the crash site. None had survived. They were army secret service officers on a mission. They were now a part of classified files locked up in some secret chamber. No one would ever know who they were, why they were, and where they finally rested.
Tears gushed down her weary eyes. Tears she had refused to shed for years. She didn’t want to be brave anymore. There was a beep on the phone.
‘Kate, I didn’t want to leave without meeting you but you were too frightened to. Shall meet you on the other side someday. Till then remember our times... Sean.’
He watched her one last time, then disappeared into the unknown forever.
