Soham Bagchi



Soham Bagchi




15 mins 11.1K 15 mins 11.1K

“One advantage of talking to yourself is that you know at least somebody’s listening”
-Franklin P. Jones


14 February 2017, Home                                                                                                                                               1:17AM

Hello friend,

                      Hello friend? That is lame – we are no friends. You don’t know me and you will probably not want to. But when does one know a person? I have never understood that but people try telling me to know more people. I try, that’s why I’m talking to you. Maybe I should start by telling you my name, that’s what normal people do right? But that will reveal my identity. I probably should give everyone an imaginary name so that no one gets angry on me. So, you can call me…… Steve, a simple name, isn’t it? Maybe I should give you a name, as I am not sure whether I can call you my friend. But I can’t do that as well, as you are only inside my mind, we have to remember that - naming you will mess things up. Shit. This is happening. I am talking to an imaginary person. Shit. I shouldn’t have started talking to you. I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know why I did anything. Are you still listening? I am going to tell you something. Something I never told anyone – I KILLED HER, I KILLED THE GIRL I LOVE. I am going to tell you everything. Will you listen? You must, because it will not be good for my mind to not listen to me.

I have never felt more alone before. I mean I have been living alone since I was thirteen. But now I feel completely empty, like my mind does not exist. I guess I’m crying right now. I think I am seeing her in front of me, again- I see her wearing a pink dress sitting in the graveyard. Shit. Tell me you are with me. Thank you. I want to tell you everything but it is late and I have blood in my hands - I should probably go - wash my hands.

With love



15 February 2017, Home                                                                                                                                             11:01PM

Hello friend

                      Are we friends? I am not sure but as I said I can’t name you, so I must call you friend as I will not like to think of you as my enemy. I am seeing her again. Her beautiful head cracked and lying on the floor. I should probably get her out of my mind. I went to my psychiatrist today. She’s nice, she does not shout at me. She seems to like me but I guess it’s their job to act like that. I like her as well. She trusts what I say to her. I am not good at talking with people. I don’t talk with people. My mom was the only person I used to talk to. To be true to you – I cried today- a lot. I wonder why I don’t have friends. Why do people expect me to be like them? Why can’t I want them to be like me? Do you want to know why I had to visit a psychiatrist? Because people think I am delusional. They think I might even commit suicide. It’s funny, isn’t it? They think they understand me. They think I want to commit suicide. Why do people think? I never understood why people commit suicide. Taking your own life - Interesting expression, isn’t it? Taking your own life –taking it from whom?

I remember a guy called Ralph. He was my friend (or at least I thought my friend) in High School. I remember seeing his pale dead body – hanging from the roof of his room. I was not allowed to go near him. I didn’t even see him once before he was buried. But I remember the first picture – his body hanging like it’s a thing, not a human. I don’t know why he committed suicide. I have never known. Maybe it was for a girl called Anne. Anne and Ralph had been in a so-called-perfect-relatonship-that-never-seems-to-end-but-at-the-end-ends. I don’t know if the break-up was the reason for his suicide –I never bothered to know.

People love violence. You know why, because it gives them happiness. I remember sitting with Ralph one day. We were just sitting and reading (or I guess only I was reading, he was staring at Anne who sat across us). I don’t know what happened to him in that moment but he got up and pushed me to the ground and started punching and kicking me mercilessly. I remember the pain, blood coming out of my mouth. I knew self-defense. But I don’t know what happened to me that day. I did nothing. I never talked to Ralph after that, but I guess I forgave him after he died. I am surprised how dying changes everything. I don’t like thinking about Ralph but sometimes I think…..

Maybe he was my friend.

With love




15 February 2017, Home                                                                                                                                             11:29PM

Hello friend

                      I am unable to sleep - my whole body burns. I guess I need a hit, but I have exhausted my, this month’s morphine supply. I know it’s not good for my health, but they are really good for my emotions. They make me feel strong - One hit and you can run away from the ugly suffering called life for some time. And I take a very limited dosage. I urgently need some morphine. I know, I am breaking my rule of limited dosage but now I really need a hit – you know I can’t get her out of my mind -I cannot die in this room.

I take my jumper and go out with a hood on my face. I always cover my face to avoid any eye contact. I lock my apartment and start walking when someone calls my name from back “Steve!” I turn back slowly and shit………… it’s Anne. I of course wasn’t expecting her at this hour. She comes near me with her usual smile on face.

“Where are you going so late?” is the first thing she asks.

“Umm….. I was unable to sleep so thought I might walk.” I lie.

Anne nods her head in approval, though I know that she knows I am lying. I don’t know how Anne knows me so well, but she is the only person that knows me, I guess. I don’t remember when I first saw Anne -the same way I don’t remember when I first saw my parents. It’s like she just came by – like she was always with me, and we also went to the same school.

“God, are you again lost in your thoughts? She asks but I just look into her eyes.

“Say something.” She demands but I just look into her eyes. “Alright” she says in a tone of defeat, “Listen tomorrow I am giving a party at Ollie’s house. You know him right?”

I take some time and then say shaking my head “No.” Well, I do know Ollie. He’s Anne’s current boy friend (I honestly stopped counting her number of boyfriends after it crossed twenty). The guy’s a douche bag. He behaves a little too well with me – I guess he thinks I like Anne.

Anne gives me a suspicious look and then looks around. Then out of a sudden she walks towards the door of my flat. Shit. It’s not good. She cannot see my flat.

“Anne, I don’t think it’s a right time to go in” I say and walk up to her. But it it’s too late – she’s already inside my flat. Once in, she examines my whole flat. I protest but she never listens. She finds the box where I store morphine and smells it. She doesn’t look at me for some time. Then she comes towards me and slaps me hard on the face. I must tell you that it really hurt.

“How could you do this?” she yells and grabs my collar, “How could you waste your life. Didn’t you think of me even for once?”

I don’t look at her but I know she is crying. “Who are you?” I say, “You are not my mom, not my girlfriend. You were never there when I needed you”

 I know what you are thinking – you are thinking of what a heartless bastard I am. She walks away from me and I don’t know what to say. I just point at the door and say, “Leave!”

With love




16 February 2017, Home                                                                                                                                                2:45PM

Hello friend

                     I was upset after what happened with Anne yesterday. I did not go to school today (it’s my last month of senior year in high school), so I was left alone all morning in the house, listening to music. Not alone exactly, because she was always there.

I exactly remember the first day I saw her. It was a bright spring morning. I went to the church to attend the marriage of one of my aunts. I was wandering around the church when I saw a girl wearing a pink dress- she sat away from everyone, alone in the graveyard. She was just sitting, making the graveyard peaceful with her calmness. I remember thinking, “How can something be so perfect?”

I walked up to her and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Talking” she replied without looking at me. I was shocked as there was no one in the graveyard so I asked her who she was talking to. “The graves” was her reply. She looked up at me and then smiled “You can sit beside me if you want” I slowly walked and sat beside her -I admit I was scared. It was all so quiet, except for the humming of the leaves.

“You like talking to them?” I asked

“Yeah, you see they never complaint, they never interrupt and they never shout at you. They always listen to you”

“But they are dead” I pointed out.

“We all are, aren’t we?” she asked. I didn’t know what she had meant back then, but now I understand. “We die the moment we are born”

We sat quietly for some time. She stared at the graves and I stared at her – she was really fair, fairer than the snow. Then she stood up and said to me, “Will you dance?”

“But there’s no music”

“That’s it. We dance to the silence”

I was unsure what it meant but I still stood up. She came near me, and then…… we danced. It seemed like we danced for eternity – and I was so happy. From that day, I and she were like bread and butter. We would spend most of our time together – running, talking, dancing to the silence of graveyards. For some reason she never wanted to go to home. She wanted to always stay in the graveyard. It’s funny how life changes so fast.

I sit in my room and look at her smashed skull and think of all the times we spent together.

With love



16 February 2017, Anne’s Party                                                                                                                                  9:32PM

Hello friend

                     I am currently going to Anne’s party. I would not have gone but I needed to apologize to Anne. I am not good at socializing much. After my mom, I almost cut all my connections off. I hate the day she died – it was the worst day of my life. I woke up and went to call my mom. She was lying on the floor. I didn’t understand that she was dead at once but some time later, I eventually came to know that she was no more. She looked so pale. I called at the emergency number and the police came after some time. But I was alone with my dead mother in a room for over an hour. Before dying my mom had written a letter to me – it said I should not worry of her and that she died of leukemia after suffering from it over six months. She did not tell because she did not want me to panic. I was angry at her for not telling me but now I think maybe she was thinking of me.

My mom had given my custody to one of her sisters. She definitely did not trust her drunker husband. I was really scared of my dad – he would beat and assault me. My aunt was nice – she gave me a separate flat to stay in.

My mom’s death completely broke me. I stopped going to the graveyard as I hated seeing my mom’s grave. I gradually shifted away from her – the girl from the graveyard. She would often come to my flat. She would ask me to come with her. She would say she had no one except me. But I could not go with her. I loved being with her, but I could not go to the graveyard with her. And maybe I wanted to be alone. I don’t know why. I literally don’t know why, but I really made things bad.

And then this one day she appeared at my doorsteps with blood draped all over her body. She kissed me and said that she loved me. I was happy -I can’t tell how many times I have imagined her saying those words. I too told her that I loved her. She slept in my bed that night. The next morning I saw her smashed head lying on the floor with blood all over my apartment.


I am standing outside Ollie’s house. I am really afraid to enter. I grab all my courage and enter the party. There are a lot of people - most of them are from our school. I do not see Anne or Ollie out there. I sit alone in one corner in a sofa, waiting. After some time Anne comes out of a room, crying and walks out of the party. Ollie too comes out of the room after some time. I know something is wrong. I stand up and run out of the party as well. I run and follow Anne.

With love





16 February 2017, The Graveyard                                                                                                                              4:03AM

Hello friend

                     Are we friends now? I guess we are because you never left. I am sitting with Anne in the graveyard, the same way I used to sit with her. I don’t know what we are doing. Do you know? I would like to think you do not as it will not be nice for my mind to know more than me. After she ran out of the party I had followed her. She was crying. When she saw me, she came to me and asked me to come to the graveyard with her. We haven’t talked since.

“Are you talking to them again?” she asks suddenly, “Imaginary people?”

I don’t reply but just look at her. How does she know about you?

“I had a talk with your psychiatrist.” She explained, “She explained me everything... Talking to them is not going to help, Steve. Only cowards live in imagination, those who are afraid to face reality”

I just look down at the graves; it’s been so long since I was last here. I look up at Anne again and apologize, “I’m sorry for what I did the other day”

“Don’t talk about that again, ever. I have called you to talk about something else”

I know what she’s going to say.

I nod and then ask, “Why did you run out of the party like that?”

She smiles and then says, “I had a break up with Ollie – he called me a slut”

There was a moment of silence and then Anne continues, “Anyways didn’t you used to count my number of boyfriends?”

“I honestly stopped counting after it crossed twenty”


“Yeah, and that was a year ago” We both laugh – I had almost forgotten to laugh.

After some silence Anne turns to me and calls me in serious tone,” Steve, I want you to give up your drugs”

“I promise”

 “Steve ..... I know I’m no one to tell this..... But you should get her out of your mind” she almost whispers, looking into my eye.

I really wasn’t expecting that. Out of all things Anne never talked to me about her. I was carried away for a moment but now I see her in front of me again. “I can’t get her over with” I reply half-stammering.

“It’s been three years, Steve. You have punished yourself for three years - drugs, therapy. You have gone crazy”

“But Anne, I killed her”

“Don’t blame yourself for her death. You didn’t kill her, she died herself. She killed herself, you get that?” I can see tears in her eyes and I guess I have them in my eyes as well.

“But I did that. I left her alone. I closed doors on her. I refused to go with her”

“But you had a reason” she screams, “You can’t expect a mother-less boy to act normally”

Is she correct? What do you think? Did I kill her?

“And to tell you, it was not all about you. She had problems at home. Her father would physically assault her”

Did you hear that as well? Why did she never tell me about that?

“But that does not explain it all” I say, though I’m mostly unable to speak.

Anne nods and then sighs, “Maybe she loved graves so much that she became one

I have nothing to say so I remain quiet.

“Remember Ralph?” Anne asks and I nod, “You know, after he died I blamed myself of his death. But that’s pointless. He killed himself. We all are like vessels, cracked at birth – we all live till the vessel doesn’t crack completely. I didn’t create that crack in him, it always existed” She looks up at me and touches my hair, “You know why we never came into a relationship? In relationships no matter how much you try to do good for the other person, you always end up doing more damage. What we have between us is much more special than that.”

She stands up and says three words to me.

I nod and look at my mom’s grave at a distance and then, at her grave a few metres away. I don’t know what I did, I don’t know if I am a good man or if I did something special in life. But I lived and that’s what I did best.

I stand up and hug Anne tight and then, there in the graveyard, I and Anne dance to the silence, as a new sun rises in the sky.

With love

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