Him

This is a story that I wrote for a contest with the theme "Dark".

“Everyone has thought of leaping off of buildings”, Emma Thompson was talking to Queen Latifah on the television screen. The sofa was covered with empty packets of Doritos; a half-eaten pizza lay atop the coffee table along with the DVD of Stranger than Fiction. Anamika walked across the room, with signs of dried tears on her cheeks. Her hair unkempt, her mascara smudged and her clothes all haggard. There were scraps of paper, crumpled and strewn all around room. The phone started to ring. Ring! Ring! Ring! To Anamika, it seemed like a distant echo, a ringing in another dimension. She sat down on the sofa amidst the pile of empty packets and looked at the television screen, a blank expression on her face. Absent mindedly she starts biting her nails, suddenly she tastes blood. To her horror, she realizes that she forgot to wash her hands. She walks to the bathroom, and starts washing her hands, the floor feels unusually wet to her bare feet. She checks her reflection in the mirror, she looks terrible, and she smiles at the sight. While exiting the bathroom she trips on something. Without acknowledging it she prevents herself from falling and continues into the living room.

The doorbell rings. Someone calls out her name, followed by several knocks. The phone starts to ring again. But Anamika just sits there unperturbed, staring blankly into space. Hundreds of thoughts race across her mind. A lot had happened in the past few hours. She walks to the kitchen, dazed, unaware of her surroundings. She feels light-headed. Pops three pills in her mouth and downs it with orange juice. She suddenly feels the need of fresh air and goes to the balcony. A light breeze plays with her unkempt hair, a tear rolls down her left eye. The warmth of the teardrop as opposed to the cold wind summarizes the feeling in her heart aptly. She recollects the time when she used to be a happy, bubbly and satisfied woman not so long ago. She looks down from her eleventh floor balcony, morbid images engulfing her mind. The different ways she would be found dead in. Skull cracked open, with her brains spilled over the gravel or limbs twisted in an unnatural manner. A short laugh escaped her lips.

Looking at her watch, she decided it was time. She went to the bedroom, pulled off the covers and lay down. Covering herself up with a quilt, she closed her eyes, trying to recollect all events leading to the present.

She was a very happy woman with a great job and friends. She was a successful psychologist. Every Sunday she used to frequent cafes, sit there for hours and observe people, noting their nuances in her little notebook. One day a man approached her and asked her if she knew him since she kept staring at him. She was shocked; she was very subtle in her ways. An occasional glance and her peripheral vision were the only things she used. This was the first time she was caught. Having been rendered speechless, she offered the man a seat next to her. She explained to him what she does, to which the man smiled. Instantly the air of awkwardness was gone. She realized that the man had the quality to make people comfortable. That was the day she met him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing telephone. This irritated her; she got up and pulled the wire from the wall. She went back and lay on her bed. She had little time left now.

He was the best thing that could happen to her. She had started taking care of the way she looked, took pleasure in simple things and was happier than ever. She felt complete. All her friends loved him, her parents loved him; it was as if he was tailor-made for her. But all her beliefs came crashing one fine day. She had gone to meet her friend at his place; when she came back, he was waiting for her, furious. He didn’t utter a word, just kept glaring at her. She tried to ask him what troubled him, but he kept mum. When she kept pestering him, he slapped her across her face and shouted, “You are mine! Do not forget that.” She was shocked, this man before her, was different. He was not the caring and loving guy she fell in love with, his face was contorted with anger. He slapped her again, “You will not meet any other man!” She started to say something in defense, when he struck her again. “Who said you’re allowed to speak?” Stifled sobs arose from her. She didn’t know what to do. She apologized, thinking it would stop him from hitting her again. “Oh, so you do admit you made a mistake! Come here, I’ll make sure everyone knows you are mine.” He dragged her to the kitchen, took a knife, heated it and carved his name on her hand.

Anamika shuddered at the memory. She looked at her hand; the scar was still there, reminding her everyday that she was his property.

She screamed in pain. What kind of monster had possessed him? After he was done, he admired his handiwork and smirked, “That ought to do it”. He left her screaming on the kitchen floor and proceeded to take a shower. It took some minutes for Anamika to realize the whirlwind of events that had happened. He returned from his shower and picked her up, kissed her on the cheek and on the scar that he had given. “Does it hurt darling? Come, I’ll put some ice on it” While he was putting ice on her hand, she looked at him, thinking to herself what this man was. She was a psychologist yet she couldn’t understand him. He picked her up, carried her to the bedroom and made love to her. The next morning, Anamika woke up groggily. Yesterday seemed like a dream, but the scar on her hand told a different story. She looked at him, sleeping peacefully, how innocent he looked. She couldn’t make herself believe that the monster she saw last night was real.

The doorbell rang, followed by knocks, then loud bangs and her name being repeated. She lay still. She wasn’t going to answer the door. It was too late.

Months had passed since that ill-fated night. Things were sunny again. Anamika had dismissed that event as a mistake and even he had apologized profusely for his behavior. Then it happened again. She was offered a high-paying position in a corporate. She was going to be a counselor in a big firm, but that also meant her moving to a different city. She came home with the happy news, but as soon as she told him, the smile on his face vanished, and a frown took its place. “You are sleeping with someone else, right? That’s why you want to move. You know that I can’t leave this city and you would have to go alone. You clever b***h!” Anamika couldn’t believe her ears; she was as loyal as anyone could be. “You want sex? I’ll give you sex!” He dragged her to the bedroom and raped her. There was no change or apology after that. He did it every day. This went on for months; he kept assaulting her physically and mentally. One day she came home to him in a compromising position with another woman. When she confronted him, he called her a w***e and asked her to either join him or get lost. Once when she got home, she saw a group of men in her living room and him in front of the room. When he saw her, he brought her forward and showcased her in front of his friends. He asked her to strip in front of them and when she refused, he slapped her and started undressing her himself. She shoved him and ran to the bedroom where she locked herself. He apologized to his friends and after they left, he almost broke down the bedroom door, when she opened it for him. He abused her and started coming forward to hit her. That was when she did it. She hit him with the lamp once. He staggered backwards, and looked at her in disbelief. She realized she could overpower him after all. He hadn’t come out of the shock of getting hit, when she hit him again and again. He ran to the bathroom, bleeding profusely. She ran after him and threw the lamp at his head while he was trying to get in. He dropped down to his knees. She picked up one of the golf clubs from his golfing kit, and started bludgeoning him, till all that was left of him was a bloody mess. He was gone. Now he couldn’t harm her. She touched him to make sure he was dead; she dipped her hand in his blood and looked at it. She was free. That was three days ago.

Anamika breathed a sigh and went off to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a better day. Rays of sunshine tried to make their way through the curtains. Anamika opened her eyes; she had had a peaceful and dreamless sleep after such a long time. She got up, took a shower, with his body still rotting on the bathroom floor. She shampooed and conditioned her hair, feeling fresh. Dressed up in her finest, packed a small overnight bag; locked the apartment and left for that corporate job in another city. Feeling the wind in her hair and sunshine on her face, she felt free for the first time.

And then she woke up. She saw him sleeping beside her. She woke him up, he opened his eyes, “Hey, good morning honey! “. She looked at her hand, there was no scar, she looked back at him. “Hey what’s wrong? You look so scared!”, he tried to touch her to reassure her. She pushed his hand away, turned to find something near her bed and hit him with lamp over and over bludgeoning him.

© 2011 Wordless Wanderer

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Featured Review

Archia

Oh, I didn't not expect that at all. I love the writing stlye, how it almost like a descriptive list. The ending though is great. I just have one question; did he actually do all those things to her? Or is that just something that meant to be left unanswered.
Either way, great story, really unexpected end.

Posted 12 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Reviews

Winter of '97

Not what I expected. Scary to think things like this actually happen. Amazing that you could write something like this. I know I couldn't. Amazing talent. Great write.