Letting My Inner Demons Have Me (Part 5)

She sat there, shocked. And believe me, so was I. I hadn’t intended to do this anytime soon, but I had to do it. I didn’t want to let go of the girl I so dearly loved. Why would I? She was the girl I so dearly wanted to be with. She made me sane, she made a psychopath like me sane. How many people could do that? None. She completed me. 
We sat there, before I whispered, “What do you think then?”. “Do you really think after what you said about me, about what I mean to you, I’d say no? Oh Aaron, you have a long way to go, boy. My boy”, she said, held my hand, and nodded. I smiled with joy, and why not? A new chapter was being added in my book of life. 
We both didn’t have anyone else for each other, other than a couple of friends. We went for our wedding shopping together. From her wedding gown, to my wedding tux, we bought everything together. And let me tell you, when she got out of the trial room after wearing her eventual gown, she was nervous, and I could see that. But she looked like an angel on Earth. More importantly, my angel. 
“How do I look, Aaron?”

“Angel!”, was the only word I could utter. 
She blushed, and said, “So this is it then?”, and spun a lil. 
When I got out of the trial room, naturally, I was nervous. 
“How do I look?”, I asked, hesitating.

“Would do”, she said, and smiled.
I slammed my head with my hand, and said, “Appreciate me at least now, Amanda”, and we burst into laughter, and then we knew, we were so deeply in love.
Then came the day. Our day. I stood there, while she walked down the aisle, to me. It was happening. The guy with not-so-humble background, was finally getting a happy ending. What more could I have asked for? 
I looked into her eyes, she looked into mine.
“You’re now man, and wife. You may now kiss the bride”, the priest said, and I kissed her, between our friends’ applause. 
Now it was time to go home. We drove to my apartment. My flat was on the 16th floor, and hence, we had to take the lift.
As we were crossing the 6th floor, the elevator, stopped. We were in the middle of 6th and 7th floor now.  7th floor in our building was the maintenance floor. 
You see, my building was a 17-floor tall building, in which 7th floor was for maintenance. 
We were in the middle of the floor, and I tried calling the building coordinator, but no one picked up the call. I planned to climb up to the floor, and then pull her up.
I climbed up and was on the floor. I was pulling her up, and she was half out, then suddenly, the elevator, started moving.
Within a second or two, it raptured her spine. She died in my arms. I didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t bleeding externally, but internally. I lost the girl I loved, in my arms.
When I looked around, I saw a spencer. And yet again, it was me, a spencer, and a corpse. But it wasn’t just a corpse, it was my life.
I buried her with all the rituals, and I never let her grave be empty on the outside. I always leave a flower above her. A flower, as she was to me. But you know, it wasn’t just her I buried. I buried my spencer as well. 
You see, the death of someone I loved dearly, my father, moulded me into this cold blooded psychopath, and death of someone I loved dearly, my wife, moulded me back to the normality. 
I miss her everyday, and my house is full of her images. I still wear my wedding ring, just so everyone knows that I’m taken by the best of person, and she’ll be with me, always.
It was quarter past 10. This time I didn’t have a one-night fling,

My life wasn’t frightening to me any more. My Amanda gave me a reason to live. Live to love her like I couldn’t when she was alive. My Amanda, made me strong.
Everything was same as it was on the day I met Amanda, but this time, I didn’t get a call, and the love of my life, didn’t sit in front of me.

Letting My Inner Demons Have Me (Part 4)

“Well, there’s no easy way to put this, but I suffer from a disease”

“What disease, Aaron? Cancer or something?”

“No, Amanda, not any conventional disease. It’s something I have no control over. Actually, no one does. Not at least in my knowledge”

“What kind of disease is it, Aaron? You’re scaring me now”
She said, and laughed a lil. She was worried about me. And why not? She loved me, to the core. I could see it in her eyes, how worried she was. And nevertheless, it was a thing to be worried about. Sitting next to a psychopath killer. Psychopath killers are like that, no matter how much they love you, you never know when they lose their shit and try to stab you, or hit you to death.
“Well, Amanda, I killed Brandon, and your boss”, I said, looking down. 
“You’re kidding me, right?”, she said, trying to hide her fright behind a smile.
“I wish, I was Amanda, I wish I was”, I said.
I could see, that she was numb. She didn’t say anything, just looked down.
“But why? Why did you do that?”, she asked, looking down, as if she was disappointed.
“Because I love you. I love every little thing bout you. I didn’t like the way Brandon treated you. I didn’t like the bruises he gave you. The shoulders that should be caressed with all the love and care in the world, were bruised with blues he gave you. I could see in your eyes how much you loved him. I knew you’d never leave him, even when he treated you like a commodity. Hence, I killed him. I gave him the same bruises that he gave you. I made it even”, I said, holding her hands.

She pulled away her hands, and asked, “Why my boss?”
“He was a sleazy little bastard. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. I know how disgusted you were feeling when he was looking at you. When I went to his office to confront him about it, he was all boasting about his money. He asked for your price of a night like you’re a prostitute. I didn’t like how he was saying things about you. Hence when he turned, I killed him. I hit him to death. I made him boast that”, I said. 
“What is the difference between you and them then? I thought you were different, Aaron”, she said, nearly in tears. 
“I did it because of what I feel for you, Amanda. I…”, I said, before being cut off by her.
“How many times have you done this, Aaron?”, she asked.
“I don’t know. Fifteen-twenty maybe”, I said.
“Why do you do this Aaron? Why do you do this? I thought we had a future together”, she said, standing up. 
“Everyone’s got a story, Amanda”, I said, holding her hand.
“Oh yeah, tell me”, she said, and sat down.
“This all started when my biological father died when I was 7. He was a carpenter. Me and him were really close. He was the only man I ever loved. We used to live in Texas. One day, a drunk man broke into our house and started misbehaving with my mom. My dad was on the other side of the house. As soon as he came into the house and saw the man, they started brawling. I was standing there at the corner after a minute or two, he pushed my dad to the other corner, took out his gun and shot my dad. 4 times in the chest. I was there. I took my dad’s wrench in redemption and threw the damn thing to the head of the man. It hit his head, and knocked out cold. I hit him in his head with the wrench 16 times that day. It calmed me a lot. And before I knew it, it became a habit of mine. My second victim became a school bully. He took the girl I loved to prom forcefully. After that, it was more frequent. It was all going good, until I came to know about how my stepdad was treating my mom. I killed him with 47 shots. I killed someone after almost a decade. But for the first time, it got media coverage. It was in the newspaper next day, and I realised how cruel I had become. And then, I met you. You came to me, and everything that ever happened to me made sense. I love you, Amanda. Everything I did was for you to be happy”, I said, bursting out into tears. 
The best thing about Manhattan was the mundane life of people. They didn’t care about anyone, but themselves, and hence no one in the cafe cared if I was crying. 
“Aaron, I don’t know what to say”, she said, wiping out my tears.
“Don’t say anything, just answer a question of mine”, I said.
“What?”, she counter-questioned.
“Amanda Brynes, will you let me inside that little, yet metaphorically big heart of yours, giving me a little space for myself? Will you let me inside the shade of your love? Tell me Amanda, will you marry a low life like me?”, I asked.

(To Be Continued)

Letting My Inner Demons Have Me (Part 3)

We sat there for a little more than an hour. It was amazing. We didn’t say anything, you know. But having each other was something we had craved for. And hence, the simple moments with each other, became amazing.
“I miss Brandon”.

“I don’t know what to say, to be honest with you”.

“Even I don’t. You know even after what he did to me, I did love him. And then you came along”.

“What do you mean?”.

“I was so in love with him. I always overlooked what he did to me. But that day I saw you sitting in the café, looking out, I don’t know what happened, and I just walked towards you. I never did that to anyone else. But you had something, Aaron. You have something that I just can’t describe. You make me happy, or maybe it’s just the spark we have, like everyone does in starting, but I just can’t resist. And maybe that is why, me and Brandon were having problems, maybe I’m the reason he’s not here”.
She said the words, and sunk into tears. I held her up, and we started walking. She had her hand, in mine. We were acting like love birds all over. She came near me, and whispered in my ears, “Never leave me, Aaron”, and I replied, “Never”, and hugged her. 
As we went on, we ran into her boss. He must be a guy in his late forties. Quite bald, and in a tux. He was accompanied by his secretary. He had sleaziness dripping out of his eyes. The way he was looking at Amanda, my Amanda, it was horrible. She was getting uncomfortable, and I could see that. She was trying to hide her arms, but that son of a bitch just wouldn’t take eyes off her. Even his secretary was done with his attitude, but maybe in the light of employment, she was forced to look over. But I wasn’t obliged to that. 
I made an excuse to Amanda, that I wanted to know about her job. She was to go on a business trip for a couple of days to Jersey. And I thought it was the perfect opportunity. I went to her office, and asked the receptionist for an appointment with her boss. I was told to wait for ten minutes there, and I sat there, with my sidebag hanging around my neck.
I observed people around. They were so caught up in the materialistic world. The phone was constantly ringing, and people were constantly on their phone. I doubted if they even cared about each other. Their nine to five job had become their world. The responsibilities of family bugged them day in and day out. It must’ve been hard, and I could see that. The receptionist called my name, and I thanked her. 
I pushed the door, and man, was he arrogant? A hell lot. “Who are you again?”, he said, with his legs up on the table. “I’m Amanda’s boyfriend”, I said. “Oh yeah. I saw you that day. Why are you here? Don’t you know she’s out to Jersey for a business meeting?”, he said, in a harsh tone. “Yeah I know. I just wanted to meet you. You see, I didn’t like the way you were looking at my girl that day”, I said, reluctantly. He smirked a little, and said, “Do you really think I care? I’m a billionaire, you son of a bitch. I can get any girl I want, anywhere I want. And “your” Amanda is no different. Tell me how much do you need to let her spend a night with me? $20000? Tell me her price”, and rotated his chair to the opposite side. Now his back was facing me. And I took the advantage. 
I took my weapon of choice, my spencer out of my bag, and leaned on the table, nearing his head. “How bout a no?”, I said, and he rotated his chair back to see me, near his head with my weapon in hand. Before he could say anything, I smashed it into his head. He was bleeding, but I didn’t stop. I smashed it onto his head 73 times. He was long dead at 12, but the rage I had, of how he talked about the girl I love, had me long. 
Luckily for me, I was the last one before lunch break to visit him, and he always did his lunch in his cabin, so it wasn’t much of a threat of being caught for me. I left the place with a smile on my face, and I was greeted by same by the receptionist. And I bailed off through the door.
A couple of days later, when she came back, and came to know about him being dead, she was amazed, yet a little happy, and why not? The man was a schmuck, nevertheless. 
The next day, I planned to tell her bout my “disease”. I took her to the same place we had met a few weeks back. 
“Amanda, I wish to tell you something”.

“What is it, Aaron?”.

“Well, there’s no easy way to put it but…”

(To Be Continued)

Letting My Inner Demons Have Me (Part 2)

After a long time, I wore my tux. The best thing about start ups was that I could go to office in my shorts, and no one would object to that. But this was different, this was a date. And ironically, the girl I was going on a date with, was taken. So, was it a date? Ah, it’s messed up. I looked at the wall clock, it showed a little over 6. 
“What should I take for her? I can’t go empty handed on my first formal meeting with her!”, I thought. Flowers, get messy. Chocolates, melt. Perfumes, were a no-no. I couldn’t decide what to take for her. In the end, I decided to gift her a watch. A branded one. Just to show her how capable I was, and how times change and will change. Like, she will be with me. One day. This girl, was driving me nuts! I had never ever bought a gift for my girlfriend. And she wasn’t even one! I had no idea what I was doing. 
I was sitting at the place she asked me to be. Looking at the menu. The place was quite cheap, I’d say. But the environment was really great. Suddenly my eyes started gazing towards the door. It was her. She looked amazing in that dress. And the way she was flipping her hair, it was driving me crazy. I just wanted to kiss her. But I controlled my feelings, and greeted her. We sat and started talking. I ordered pasta, she ordered pizza. While waiting for the food, I noticed she got an amazing body. I was getting out of my mind. I was constantly thinking if I could score tonight or not. I didn’t want to fuck this up. I didn’t want to fuck my first stable friendship/relationship with a person in years, both metaphorically, and literally. 
“What you looking at, Aaron?”, she asked, and smiled. “Amanda, you’re beautiful!”, I said, and shied away. She smiled and appreciated that. When she turned a little, I saw some bruises. Blue, in color. I wasn’t sure that I should ask her about them. But nevertheless, I did. 
“Hey, what are those bruises on your arms about?”.

“Ah, my boyfriend, you know”.
She said, and looked away, thinking something. I felt about it. 
“It doesn’t matter. Tell me something bout yourself”, she said. 

“Well…”, I started going on. But I just couldn’t figure out how can someone hit a beautiful girl like her. She was so perfect. 
When she went to the washroom, to freshen up after having the dinner, I saw she left her phone on the table. Though I shouldn’t have, but I breached into her privacy, but I did. I saw she had gotten 18 missed calls from a guy called Brandon. I noted down his number, and called the archives of NYC. Now, I had his address. 
Amanda came out of the washroom, and we parted our ways. We planned on meeting again. She gave me a pecka on my cheek, while I blushed. 
I took the next day off from work. I was feeling sick, and hence, I planned on sleeping. 
But the next thing I remember, was the same old thing. Me, standing next to a half dead man, with a spencer in my hand. Blood dripping. Drop, by drop. On the ground. I saw an identity card lying beside him. It read the name “Brandon Whistler”. It was Brandon.    Amanda’s boyfriend. Or should I say late boyfriend? I killed him. He hit my Amanda, I hit him. And I hit hard. 
He was lying there. Motionless. Lifeless. Blood had stopped dripping down my weapon of choice. I wasn’t regretting what I did though. Infact, it wasn’t my first time. 
But it was time, I run away. I started the TV, made the shower run, and bailed off through fire exit. And then met Amanda on the same night. 
She was indeed looking beautiful, but today it was something different. She was visibly confused. 
“What’s wrong?”, I asked. 

“Ah nothing”, she said, smiled and took a bite. 

“For sure?”, I asked again. 

“Well, Brandon, my boyfriend hasn’t called me today even once. Not like I’m complaining, but it’s weird. He pisses me off usually by the amount of time he calls in a day, and not a single call today”, she said, looking at her phone. 

“Well, maybe his phone got discharged or something”, I said, and added, “Wanna go Ice-skating?”. 

“Love to”, she said, and smiled. 
We paid the bill, and eloped to the nearest ice-skating wing. We had a hell of a time there. She fell in my arms three times, I remember. We were smiling. I kissed her forehead, and she rested it on my chest. 
I dropped her home, and went to mine. We weren’t sure to take it to next level, till she was with Brandon. Obviously, I couldn’t tell her, about what I did. 
Next morning, I woke up to her call. “Aaron, Brandon’s dead”, she uttered, crying. I met her. She hugged me and cried on my shoulder. I was trying to comfort her. We sat down, and she was crying all over. I wasn’t liking her tears, but she just wouldn’t stop. And hence, I had no option left, and I kissed her. 
I kissed for a little more than a minute. We broke the kiss, she looked into my eyes, and kissed me again. 
His end, meant a new beginning for us. 
She was mine now. Only mine.
Or was she?

(To Be Continued)

Letting My Inner Demons Have Me (Part 1)

It was quarter past 10. I had another one night fling. It was frightening to me, how those, and alcohol, obviously, had become the only source of entertainment for me. I had become so irresponsible, ever since I lost my mom in a car accident. It was a havoc for me. She was the only person I could rely on completely, and with her, gone, it was breaking me into bits. I hadn’t had a proper meal in a week. I was surviving on nothing other than alcohol and a little of many things. I went to the refrigerator, took out some milk, and drank it. My hangover was getting over a lil bit, but I was far from being sober. 
I got a call from my financial advisor to meet her in the café at 11 o’clock. I took a shower. As water was streaming down my arms, I was feeling a sensation inside of me. A sensation, screaming something. I chose to ignore it, and went on with my day. That sensation, was none other than my intuition that something was going to happen that day. 
I wore my shirt, and my shorts, and went down to the café just under my apartment. It was quarter to 11, and I sat there reading newspaper. It read a news of how a man was killed by someone, repeatedly smashed by a tool. The man was rendered unrecognisable. I thought of how cruel can someone be, and then, she came. 
“Hey! Is this seat taken?”, she asked. 

“Well, not yet. But I’m waiting for someone. They’ll be here in like half an hour, so you can suit yourself, till then”, I replied, smiling a little. 
After a year or two of living alone, I knew how to get into girls’ pants quite easily. 
“Well, thanks!”, she replied, and added, “I’m sorry, but as you see, the café is full today, so”. 

“Yeah, I understand. It is like that on weekends here”, I replied, and added a question, “I haven’t seen you around. Are you new here?”.

“Well, yeah. I just shifted here from Amsterdam. My boyfriend lives here in Manhattan, and as you know long distances can be a pain in the ass, so I shifted here”, she said, and took a sip of her coffee.

“Oh okay!”, I replied, and took a sip of mine, and went on to read. 
I don’t know why, but I was feeling hurt when she said she had a boyfriend. I rarely care about girls that I pick up, if they’re taken, or not. But not this time. I was a lil annoyed. But obviously, I couldn’t show my insecurities. This girl had something, and I could feel it. Maybe it was the way she had her hair tucked, or maybe it was her perfume. I don’t know what it was, but she had something. She had something I hadn’t felt ever. 
“By the way, I’m Amanda. I work as a deputy sales manager for Prada. I usually handle handbags and stuff, so let me know if you need someone for your girlfriend!”, she said, and smiled.

“Haha, that’d be unnecessary. I’m single since college. I’m Aaron, by the way. I’m the CFO of a new firm. We’re designing nanochips for the betterment of storage devices. Tell me if you need one of those, if you would ever!”, I said. 

“I don’t think I would”, she said, and laughed. 
By this time, I had recieved a message from my advisor that he won’t be able to make it that day. I was visibly pissed off at this careless attitude of his, and so she asked me about it. 
“Are you okay?”, she asked. 

“Yeah”, I replied, completely faking it. 

“Well, you can share if you want to”, she said, keeping her coffee on the table. 

“My mom died a couple of weeks back. I’m to get her belongings, and my advisor was to come and tell me bout the things I should get, but apparently that son of a bitch won’t be able to make it today”, I said, and visibly angry this time. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom. Well, everything would be alright”, she said, and put her hand on my hand. I felt a spark when she did that. I had already started having sexualizing views for her. But I controlled my feelings, somehow. 
“Okay tell me bout your ex-girlfriend. Why did you two break up?”, she asked. 

“Well, she cheated on me. But the guy she cheated with, was found dead after a week, on the terrace. Everyone thought it was me, as the man was irrecoverably bled to death. They thought I did it in anger of losing her, but obviously, you know”, I said, and smirked a lil. 

“You don’t seem to be the angry type to be honest”, she said, and smiled. She added, “I don’t know why I’m sharing this with a complete stranger like you, and maybe that’s the reason I’m sharing this, but I’m not happy with my boyfriend. He’s got no ambition, and is very addicted to drugs. He put his hands on me yesterday, and I’m thinking of breaking up. I don’t know what to do. I haven’t seen anyone else since college…”. I stopped her, put my hand on hers, and said, “Maybe it’s time to change that”, and smiled. She smiled back. 
As she was about to get out of the café, she uttered, “Meet me at the new Italian place on 9th Block, at 8”, smiled at me, and went on. 
Maybe, it was the start of a new love story, or maybe, not. 

(To Be Continued)

Happy Ending

Happy Ending
“And they lived,

Happily ever after”.

My mom would say to me,

And I’d burst out into laughter. 
Happy endings are a part of us,

A part of our culture. 

But don’t you think it’s scavenging us,

Just to the corpse, a vulture?
At least it did to me,

When I started finding my share in it. 

But realised after sometime,

It’ll only break me into bits. 
All the time when I tried,

Failed, miserably. 

My fault?

Maybe happy endings aren’t for people like me,

Maybe I’m not a person who will have one. 

Maybe that day would never come,

When I’ll have a daughter, and I’ll be the proud son. 
Maybe it’s never meant to be,

Maybe that’s how my fate goes.

Maybe love isn’t my cup of tea,

But with a little bit of pessimistic dose. 
Maybe I’m not the person,

Maybe I’m not the person who can be groovy.

Maybe I’m not the person,

Whose love, can be made into a movie. 
Countless maybes unanswered,

But still, I feel my inner might.

Maybe, my deprivation of happy ending,

Will make me do nothing, but writer?
Maybe my happy ending is, with me, my phone and my cup of coffee.


She stood next to me in the train,

I was whipped as she came near.

Fucking everything up,

Was my only fear.
How do I strike a conversation,

Oh my, she’s so cute.

The way she’s playing with her hair,

She must be thinking I’m mute. 
I can’t say a word,

She’s way out of my league. 

“Hi”, suddenly I spoke,

And started sweating, like after fatigue. 
“Hey”, she replied,

I couldn’t believe she did. 

The dimples on her cheeks,

Were the things for which my heart skid.
There was no going back,

And suddenly, I was me. 

We spoke for an hour,

And exchanged numbers, you see. 
From that day on,

Meeting her became a routine.

Being with her,

Reminded me of my teens. 
How a girl broke my heart,

And how I want this girl to heal.

And so one day,

I asked her out on a meal. 
I was really tensed,

I don’t know why I asked.

“Yes”, she uttered, smilingly,

My excitement, I masked.
I wanted it to be perfect,

And there she came.

In her most beautiful gown,

Only for me to say something lame.
She didn’t mind though,

She laughed to her top.

Having so much in common,

In excitement, we’d hop.
She invited me to a party,

I was reluctant at first.

But she insisted to come and be her date,

I said yes in a gust.
While we were there,

A guy came to us.

I didn’t know who he was,

Her friend, must. 
They were talking casually,

I was being sided.

Then his hands to hers,

Were being guided.
He was so perfect,

A well-built physique with brain.

His looks were the reason,

Why I thought of leaving, main.
As I exited the door,

Heartbroken and sad.

She came to me,

And said, “Leaving without me, that’s bad!”.
“I thought you were busy so..”,

“But come on, you’re my date.

I haven’t met such a perfect guy like you,

Do you think I’ll let you out of my fate?”
I smiled, and so did she,

And we planned of going to for gazing stars.

She told me how much she loved doing it,

I knew, we were meant to last. 
Met each other’s families,

Hung out a lil.

But the smile I got on my face,

While I talked to her, remained still. 
It’s been six years,

We still sleep with her hand in my palm.

All that has changed is,

My daughter, calls her mom. 

The New Beginning

“Hey!”, Amanda, the new girl in school, greeted me. “Hi. Need something?”, I said, as I was doing my job in the kitchen, as assigned. “No, just wanted to talk to you”, she replied, much to my amusement. “You are always very conservative. I’m curious about you. What’s your story?”, she asked. “Excuse me?”, I replied, in a shocking tone. I was shocked at how straightforward this girl was. “Can you meet me after school? I want to talk to you”, she said, and without waiting for my answer, she took up her tray, and went to her seat, with her friends to eat.
The whole day, I was confused, about why would she want to talk to me. She sat right across the room, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Not because I was finding her attractive, but because I hadn’t found anyone as appealing as her. Nevertheless, school ended. By this time, I was sure she wasn’t going to come and talk to me. People did that often to me. Called me somewhere, and didn’t show up, so had me standing for hours. I had stopped expecting much from anyone, and this was no exception. But strangely, she told her friends that she’ll go with me. 
“Aaron! Wait for me!”, I heard her voice from the back, as I pushing my cycle. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”, she asked. I didn’t say a word. “Anyway, how are you? You must be feeling really weird about what happened in the kitchen”, she cut me off. “Yeah, sort of”, I replied. “Why are you a man of such less words? Why don’t you socialize?”, she asked me. This ticked me off a little, and in harsh tone I said to shoo her off, “Amanda, you don’t know me. We haven’t ever talked. I don’t have any friends, and you know that. I don’t want anyone. People are shit. I learnt it the hard way. I want empathy, not sympathy”.  I walked a lil ahead of her, while she stood there. I felt bad about what I just said, but the ship had sailed. “Then tell me who you are”, she said, and pointed towards the nearby park, smiling. There was something about her smile I couldn’t explain. There was a power in her smile, which dragged me to her. 
We sat in the park. And again, she initiated our conversation. “Okay so that you don’t feel awkward, here’s a little about me. I’m Amanda, from New York, settled here in Houston, because dad’s job. I have a younger sister, and my past experiences in love and relationships have been bad so, being single for a while”, she said. “You go!”, she said. “Okay fine, don’t tell this to anyone”, I asked her. She nodded. “I’m Aaron. From Chicago. I was three when mom and dad divorced. Mom moved to Kansas, Dad to San Francisco. Haven’t met him since. I was eight when I lost my mother to cancer. I was being taken care by my elder brother, before he was drafted into the army and sent to Afghanistan. He died there. I was 13. Since then, I’ve been living here in Houston with my uncle and aunt”, I said. She looked at me, and put her hand on mine and said, “I feel you”. “I know you can’t, but oh well”, I said, and lifted my shoulders up a little for making the moment a little comfortable for the both of us. She laughed at my gesture, and her laughter was the most beautiful and genuine laugh I had seen in a long time. 
“Also, I have another story for my love story, but don’t want to bore you”, I said, as I took my cycle and prepared to walk again. “Try me”, she said, and lifted the shoulder like I did a while ago. I laughed now, and so did she. “Well so, a year back when I shifted here from Kansas, I didn’t have friends. I used to sit alone, and do my chores. But then, the heroine of story showed up”, as I said this, there was a smile on her face, as she knew, it was happening all over again. “Yeah so, she sat next to me in arts, and saw me drawing something, and showed me some of her drawings. We passed smiles, yet didn’t talk for a little over a week. And she became my only friend, here in the new city. The alien city for me”, I said, and offered her some juices, being sold nearby. She politely declined and asked me continue. 
“We would do everything together. Drawing, studies, everything. She came my house so often, that my aunt refered to her as a daughter of hers. I knew, I was in love with her. And I could feel, so was she. But apparently, I was wrong”, I said, trying to smile, but couldn’t. “What happened Aaron?”, she asked. “Well, we were invited in a party. Actually she was, and as I used to stay by her side, they invited me as well. I dressed up decently, as I planned to ask her out in front of everyone. I bought a bouquet while on my way even. But as I got there, I could hear people clapping. I went inside, and saw her, kissing the football captain. Apparently, he liked her too. And asked her out, before I did. I stood there, watching the girl I love, kiss another man. I rode my cycle home as fast as I could. I was crying the whole way. Dumped the bouquet in the garbage. Didn’t go to school for a week. And you know, she didn’t even come to check on me. It was all over”, I said, and smiled a little, trying to hide my pain in it. She looked into my eyes, and asked, “How are you doing with it?”.
“Well, I burnt all my sketches of her. I changed my class. I don’t even wish to see her face. Not because I hate her, but because, I don’t want to make her feel guilty of something she had no control over. I just want her to be happy, and if she gets it with him, I’m okay with it. I’m a little selfish, you know. I wanted to see her happy, but with me. But apparently, that didn’t happen. That’s not how things run around here. You know Amanda, I don’t regret what I had with her, but I just want to have a new beginning. Just so I can reverse things and see what went wrong. I just need a new beginning”, I said, and was stopped by her. 
“Hi I’m Amanda, and you are?”, she said. “What’s this?”, I asked, in confusion. “You said, you need a new beginning, so why not?”, she said, and lifted her shoulders again. I laughed, and said, “Aaron” and shook her hand. I knew I had gotten a new beginning, and maybe, a new inspiration. 

PS, Having A Writer’s Block, so bear with me. 

I’m here to fight

“Aaron, a call for you”, my partner said. “Tell them I’m busy”, I replied, reading my favourite horror/mystery novel. Being a paranormal investigator, the horror novels did send the thunder through my spine sometimes. But sometimes, it was all pale. But nevertheless, I loved reading the genre. And whenever we’re not working on a case, that’s the only thing I loved doing. And this time it was no different. Last case was a success. A week was the time it took to handle. It had been the same since quite some time. But little did I know, my life was going to change. 
“I think, you should get this call”, he insisted. I didn’t want to stand up and walk, so my facial expression changed to a bit of anger. I snatched the handset from him, and answered. “Hi Aaron, Micheal Pacciti here”, the voice said. “Yeah, how can I help you?”, I asked. “Can we meet?”, he asked. “Come by my office”, I replied. This was all normal for me, so I didn’t give it much of a thought. People coming to me, frightened as a rabbit, to get the spirits out of their house. I was well worth by then. A prominent name in the field. But this case, was as different as it could have gotten.
He entered my cabin, and we shook hands. He went on to say, “We shifted into the house a week back. We got the house real cheap, so I didn’t pay much attention. But the first night we spent in the house made it clear about the presence of someone, not of our family”. I was noting it all out in my diary. It was the same old story though, and to be honest, I had learnt it by heart, but I had to be professional. He went on, “Screeches on the door, banging of the floor, nail bits on my son’s back, waving of the chandelier, screams, everything is happening in my house”. I went on, noting it down. “I’ll take care of it now”, I replied and smiled, and refered him to my secretary for the advance payment. Most novels don’t show us taking money, but we’re humans and we need that. Luckily, most people understand that bit. 
“Steve, I’m going home now. I need to tell Amanda about the case and take my stuff from home”, I said to my partner, telling him in the process to do the same. I took my car and drove home. I entered the house, and Amanda greeted me with a smile. Even though she was ridden to a wheel chair, her smile was still my highlight of the day. I told her about the case, and took my stuff. And before every case as I do, I kissed Sophie’s pic, my deceased daughter. 
She was merely 17 when she and Amanda were in the car, coming back from the market, when the car caught fire. I remember I was doing a case study, for one of the spirits, when I got a call from the hospital. When I reached there, I was told that Sophie died on the spot, and Amanda had lost her legs. It’s been five years since the incident, but still, the images haunt me. I loved my daughter, and I considered ending my life. But Amanda needed me more. She is the reason I live now, or maybe, I’m just a walking corpse, whatsoever. 
Anyway, I met Steve again in the office, and we drove to the place. We asked the Pacciti family to clear the house, and we stood all our appliances in their places. The infrared scanner, the Bible, the recorder, and all the little things were in their places. We were about to go to the bed, when a screech was heard. I ran to the place where the sound was coming from. It was the mirror, the spirit had screeched upon. It wasn’t clearly written, but what I could see of it was 

“I AM HERE TO FIGHT”, and what’s more frightening was, it was written of blood.  No spirit was this fast to make it’s intention clear, and that’s when I realise, it’s going to be a long day at work. 
“Steve, come here”, I screamed, not out of fear though. He came into the washroom, and saw the message. He looked at me and said, “It’s going to be hard, Aaron”. I just nodded my head, and went out of the washroom. I was amazed to see that all our equipments had fallen down. The spirit was powerful indeed to make things go berzerk. We went out to the living room again, getting our sleeping gear in place. I was to be sleep on a brown sofa. The sofa had blue patches. It felt really old, yet not vintage. It gave me a hint about how miser Mr. Pacciti actually was. The springs were about to pop out of the sofa, and it was killing my back. And before I could complaint about this to Steve, he was already fast asleep. He was snoring already. It was weird. Steve was an insomaniac. He never slept so early. But I thought he must’ve had a hard day, and so, I didn’t hold suspicion about it, and I regret that. 
As the sofa was as bad as it could have been, I planned to sleep in my sleeping bag, outside the cottage. Even though the cottage was humongous, the first rule of paranormal activity was to never to go to the first floor on the first night. And so, I didn’t have much option left. The living room was already full of our equipments, and Steve, with his snores. Hall was rendered inhabitable by the constant bashing of the floor from beneath, and also, the lack of space to spread my body. As I walked out of the door, I could feel the breeze. For the first time, I couldn’t identify the nature of it. You see, breezes can be hard, or soft.

Hard breeze always fascinated me. It always meant of something good is to come, and soft was the opposite. I tend to differ from the general conception of it, but it was what it was. 
I exited the house, and got my sleeping bag in the place. I laid on my place, and gazed at stars. Finding the constellations reminded me of my childhood when me, dad and my brother would lie down at night, and hold a gaze at the skies, for endless hours. Those were the best days of my life. Within the stars I could see the Orion and the Ram. But I don’t know when, I fell asleep. I don’t remember what my dream was, but it was a nightmare. I woke up, and got into the house to get some water. I was dizzy and was out of senses. I went straight into kitchen and got the water-bottle. When I was going back, I saw Steve wasn’t there. I screamed, “Steve?”, to no reply. At first I thought, he must’ve gone to the washroom, but why would he? He knows the place is possessed, and if it was urgent, he would’ve woken me up. And hence after a long, I was scared. 
I went out again. Searching the premises for Steve. It was an empty place, and all I could hear was occasional sounds of animals, and insects, and my own screams.  I was tensed. I was worried about Steve. He was an adult man, but our work can be really dangerous. This incident told me how strong the spirit actually was. This was the first time in a long time that some spirit had penetrated our gaurd. But right then, I wasn’t supposed to think about the strength of the spirit, but about Steve. 
I went behind the house, in the garden. The tree above was dark. Like abnormally dark. I don’t think I had seen a darker object with my own eyes. And so I went towards it. Walking on the dew of the grass, towards the tree, and well beneath the branches of the tree. What was strange about the scene was, the well even though was below the branches, was getting more light than the tree itself. That what fascinating me. As I went towards it, a knot of grass had my feet, and I fell on my face. My chin, struck the wall of the well, and started bleeding, but I couldn’t care less. My eyes saw the water below. “Look Up”, the words were formed in white colour on the surface of water. I was amazed, but out of fear, I looked up. 
The black daze vanished, and the tree was visible again. But all I could see was, a crucified Steve. His hands were nailed to the cross, and his face hung. I knew he was dead. The spirit has had him. There I was, in blood, seeing my bestfriend dead, and not knowing what to do next. 
I stood up, bleeding. My legs were crumbling, and I put all my strength in every step that I took. I knew I couldn’t go to the Police, they’ll convict me of the murder. When I was on the road, I fell. Loss of blood had me fainted, on the middle of the road. Everything blackened. I felt like falling downwards, to the deepest parts of the afterlife. I could see Sophie there. Playing with other kids, under a tree. Maybe it was the tree of Life, in the heaven. I could see her. After five years, I could see her. That sight was enough to have me crying. She was running towards me, with her arms open. I just wanted to hug her, and have her in my arms forever. But she came to me, and pushed me, and I started falling again, this time, to consciousness. 
“Aaron, you alright?”, I could here Amanda’s voice. “I opened my eyes, and saw her next to me. “What happened?”, I asked. “We don’t know. You were found unconscious on the road. Do you know where Steve is?”, Amanda asked. I was numb for a moment, and Amanda got that. “Is Steve okay, Aaron?”, she asked again. I started crying in her arms. They found his body hung on the cross. I could see his wife crying her eyes out. I didn’t know how to react to it. I had lost a part of me, in him. 
A week later, I got back to work. Amanda had been insisting me to take her with me to the house. I was really reluctant at first, because of her condition but in the end, I accepted it. I set up the cameras and microphones again in their place. And close the windows, just so wind doesn’t blow anything away. It was night. Suddenly my eyes opened, and the radar I had in front of me was going crazy. Amanda had been holding my hand, and sleeping peacefully. But suddenly, her body started levitating in front of my eyes. I was afraid, if I was going to lose the only person in my life now. The white sheets on the sofa, levitated with her. Suddenly, in a very heavy tone, that I had never ever heard from her, she murmured, “I’m here to fight. You, mortals cannot stop me. Anyone who lives under this roof, will have to burn in my rage. Either free me, or elope from here”. 
I was scared. The next moment, Amanda fell on her wheel chair yet again. I didn’t want to wake her up, but I cried, holding her hand. I didn’t sleep that night, or should I say, the frightening scenario of me losing her didn’t let me. The next morning, she told me something. She told me when the spirit possessed her, it sent her vibes. It, told her a story. 
The story of a young girl called Ada. Born in 1848, in the Caribbean to Angolan Parents, she was sold to a businessman in Confederate States of America as a slave. It was a well regulated deal, with all her documents, from birth to the date she was sold, were confiscated by the businessman, and a contract was made, that she wasn’t to leave the house. She was merely 13 when her body was sold. And then, civil war happened. Southern America was losing the battle, and the businessman knew, he’s property was to be seized. It was 5th May, 1865. The businessman got really drunk, and raped her. She screamed, she pleaded him not to do that for her. She pleaded of her loyalty to him, but it was all useless, for the sleazy businessman. And on 6th May, 1865, in fear of her not telling this to his wife, he shot her. And threw her body in the well. She couldn’t leave the house, because of that mere contract. A mere piece of paper, was holding back a paranormal being. 
As Amanda was going to tell about the contract, she started coughing really hard. I gave her water, but of no use. I took her to the hospital, and luckily, it was okay. She told me about a basement, having the contract. At that moment, I called up Mr. Pacciti, and asked him about it. He told me that he didn’t know about it either. He came with me to the house. We tried finding a gate, but we weren’t able to. Maybe someone had broken down the gate, and built a wall instead. When I tapped my feet on the wooden floor, out of disappointment, I could feel the hollowness. 
I tore down the woodent flooring, and there was the basement. It felt like it hadn’t been opened since a century or half. By now, Amanda had told me everything about the contracts’ whereabouts. I simply went down, and started knocking bricks, beneath the walls. Mr. Pacciti thought I was getting out of my mind, but I wasn’t. One such brick, was hollow. I took out the brick, and there it was. The contract. I tore out the contract, and a screamed was heard. She was free. For the world above. 
This had me wondering, about how, my 17-year-old daughter, even though loved immensely, was taken away from me, and how this 17-year-old girl, witnessed the most horrible crime to date. A contrast of lifetimes, a contrast of eras, and a contrast of love. 
I lost my bestfriend, my partner in this case. Nearly lost my wife, as well. This was the last case I ever took. I guess, I needed a normal job, for now.