Who Is The Narrator
Shama Farheen | 6 Min reads | August 10, 2017

As usual I was all alone in my courtyard. It was about 7 in the morning and I fell asleep reading my regular copy of TOI. Everything was calm and quiet until a sudden bursting noise broke my sleep and I was wide awake. I got up from my seat looked around but couldn't find anything suspicious except for my little cat Betty who kept staring at me with her poised green eyes.

I sat back on my arm chair reciprocating to what just happened. It was difficult to distinguish if I was awake or dreaming. I tried to close my eyes for a nap again but I couldn't. A streak of fear crept inside me for no reason. I tried to analyse the sound I heard quite back but the memory seemed faded.

Living in a plush bungalow in the suburban's of Bangalore, I doubt I should be this scared of anything in particular. My maid was on leave today and it was a dull weekend. I walked inside the hallway towards the kitchen to make some tea for myself. Suddenly I felt like I saw a shadow just pass by and again the same feeling of fear twirled inside me. So I called for Betty.

"Betty, are you there?  Come here sweety."

She did not respond and this was totally unusual because whenever I called her she would come rushing and jump over my lap for a cuddle. Something didn't seem right so I skipped the idea of tea and decided to close myself in my room.

The day moved on and it was almost dusk when my fear started to fade away and that was the moment when I heard my phone ring which I had left it in the porch. I wasn't sure if I should be picking the call but I did;

"Am I speaking to Rochelle Blair."

"Yes, indeed."

"Could you please open the door?"

**Phone gets disconnected**

My stupid nerve of curiosity pushes me to get the door. I see an envelope lying on the floor addressed to my mom and not me. I opened the envelope and to my astonishment. It was my death declaration dated from 1985 to 2016. It signified that I am dead. Then who am I if I am not alive? These kind of questions continued bothering me. After reading this with complete terror I ran around my house searching for Betty but she was nowhere to be seen. I tried making phone calls but the connection was dead. Darkness swept inside my house as the day came into a closure. I was in tears of dismay and confusion.

I just stayed back in the hallway all night. Hours passed by as I came through the night just staring at the pendulum clock. The sunshine from the rear window of my hallway pierced through my eyes. I went out to pick my morning newspaper and found a whole gathering in my courtyard. I went up to them to enquire about their visit but they ignored me like I didn't exist. I kept screaming but nobody heard me.

As I walked slowly towards my garden chair I found Betty poisoned and dead just beneath my arm chair and I could also see few blood stains on the chair. Tears rushed into my eyes and I completely broke down as she was my only family after mom moved out to her home town. I took up some courage and walked up to my gate only to notice the headlines in the newspaper,

"Day light Murder!!! Young lady shot dead in her plush bungalow in the Suburban's of Bangalore."

About the author