Radhika Mundra


Radhika Mundra




6 mins 1.0K 6 mins 1.0K

I see him sleeping peacefully on our bed. He didn't even stir when I entered the room; it was as if I didn't exist. I wonder if he ever slept that sound beside me. He has nothing on besides his briefs.


I reach by his side to take a closer look at that perfectly carved serene face - that muscular jaw line that made me drool over him. His one hand was by his side and the other folded for his head to rest on. He looked exhausted and had slept as soon as he had closed his eyes. We always cuddled while sleeping.


He once told me that he cannot sleep alone because he was scared of the dark. I wonder how is he sleeping now? Maybe time teaches us that the things we dread most are insignificant; maybe the dark inside him is scarier than the one outside.


Ha! Now he is dreaming about me. I do miss you, darling! And now I am here to reunite with you - reunite our souls. Just a little more patience!


I trace my finger on his face, making him twitch in his sleep. I want to make my presence felt. I run my fingers through his disheveled hair, over his eyebrows arched forming creases on his forehead. I close in on his right ear and breathe slowly. He should acknowledge my presence now!


His eyes shot open, his face perplexed. He sat up straight, looking around. That's rude! Can't he see me? I'm standing right here beside him and he is overlooking me.


I switch on the bedside lamp's dim purple light that I had bought two months ago while redecorating our room. He rushes to switch off the lamp and reaches for the switch of the tube light.


Ah, not again! How many times do I have to tell him that I don't like lights much? This darkness is so much better. But why does he look confused? He reaches for his phone.


Now, what does he have to do with his phone! Great, now he is typing! That's what smartphones do to you- you get addicted - be it day or night. I had clearly warned him against using his phone in the bedroom. He never takes me seriously. I knock the phone off his hand. It crashes on the floor and its pieces scatter. That serves him right!


So now finally he is looking at me or is he not? Disappointing! He gets out of the bed hurriedly and loses his balance. I'm not going to help him get up. He got up slowly anyway. He walks over to his study table and sits down to write something after chugging down a glass of water down.


Why does he have to write everything? As if I had no significance in his life? Does my presence make no difference? I take the blanket from the bed and spread it on the floor. I made it look like my silhouette. Genius, I know, right? He looks at it, amused, but only for a moment and resumes his writing.  He knows well that I don't like reading and still he has to write all the time. Why not just speak out his mind! I'd love that.


"Peculiar things have been happening since the day you left me," he whispered, his head buried in his arms. Was I shocked! It was almost like he heard what I was thinking! Anyway, I'm glad he is talking finally. He has no idea how much have I waited to hear his voice. Yes, my love, I'm listening.


"The flickering lights of the lamps and the sound of slow breaths in my ear make me dizzy. I've heard they are enough to scare people, but not me. They are childish tricks. I hope you are listening because I need it to stop. I need to sleep; I have a lot of work to do. Why don't you take care of this imposter, whoever it is?"


Sick! So now he thinks of me as an imposter. How brave of him to ask me to stop myself! Sorry love, you brought it upon yourself. I throw the lamp crashing on the floor. He is shocked because it has never happened before. Good, he must know not to upset me!


"Oh, stop that!" he shouts, clearly irritated. So much for this false bravado, I can see that tiny flicker of fear in his eyes. I drop the jug full of water, down with a thud.


"GOD, WHAT DO YOU WANT!" he screamed now, jumping towards the bed. That was rude! Don't shout honey! I think it's time. The blanket on the floor was about to be strewn with water. He quickly tiptoed towards it and picked it up. I pulled the blanket away from him, but a sharp piece of glass stuck to it cut his lip leaving a long and deep wound. He flinched with pain and ran towards the bedside drawer. Ah, not so easy! You called me imposter! He tries to open the drawer, but I jam it. He takes the blanket to cover the wound.


So you think it's over? I did say it's time to reunite. He covered himself with another blanket and sat back on the bed, creating a bunker of sorts, around him with the pillows.


"Why don't you stop! You never obeyed me. Stupid woman." Oh, no no! I don't like it when he talks to me like this. I slam the door of the balcony loudly - loud enough to see his the false bravado fade.


"What have I done to deserve this?" he pleaded. Funny, that you ask this question! I will remind you of what you did.


I dragged him off the bed, on the glass-strewn floor - his screams echoing as the pieces of glass pierced every inch of his skin. I take the pillow - the same that he used - and stifled him with it. He gasped throwing his arms and kicking in the air as if that could hurt me.


It's almost over, just one thing left. I let go the pillow and he drew a deep breath. He was shocked beyond measures to see me doing that to him - his beloved wife whom he had murdered the same way, I was about to kill him.


"You!" was the last thing he said as I smashed the wooden lamp on his face so hard that blood oozed out of his mouth. Serves him right! Even after he killed me, I thought I should forgive him because I loved him, but he kept reminding me of what a beast he really was. They say ghosts are scary. No, we aren't! We just give back what we get in life - just a matter of seeking vengeance!

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