Do not disturb the dead

A thunderstorm is brewing; I could see the waves crashing on to the shore like black angry stallions. Harsh winds were torturing the coconut trees on the beach. Angry looking clouds pushing its way in the wind. The loud pitter patter of rain hitting roofs of the shanties below. I sat on the window sill of my apartment, overlooking the beach, sipping hot chocolate in simple enjoyment. I starred as streams of water made its way down the window pane. A sense of liberation filled my body as I sat alone in my apartment on this stormy night. I had rented this apartment few months ago with Susila, my friend from college. Almost every day we had friend’s over, the apartment had always felt warm and comforting and crowded. Susila had to attend a family wedding, she will only be back on Monday…another two days of total ownership of the apartment. I mused to myself in joy.

To be in perfect harmony with your surroundings, to be able to release your inner animal when there is no soul around. To me, it was bliss.

My cell phone started to ring, the display coming into life.

“Hello” I answered wearily. I was just starting to release my inner animal. The phone call slightly annoyed me.

“Madri, you owe me one” quirked Kisal

“Me, owe you what exactly?” I asked him confused

“A favor,” said Kisal

‘Listen, you and I are done, a closed chapter, grow a pair Kisal.” I said angrily

‘No listen, Madri, I need your help,’ Kisal said ignoring my outburst. “Do you remember my cousin who was stabbed to death two years ago...?

This was an unexpected turn of conversation. I had forgotten the tragedy that shook Kisal’s family just over two years ago, I had memories of Kisal plunging into deep despair over his loss. He had been very close with Shane.

I felt the anger in me subside, and I asked him calmly, “This last time, no more and do not call me.”

“I am sending applications for an internship at the City House, I need to have an impressive cover letter, I was planning to do it today,” Kisal said apologetically, ‘but Shane’s mother had taken very ill, I am like as son to her, and I owe it Shane.

I couldn’t but feel touched by Kisal’s generosity. He had always been helpful and emotional, maybe a tad bit more emotional in a relationship.

“I will do that for you, but last time, forget not.” I said more sternly

“Madri, means a lot to me, uh…thank you.” Kisal said, his voice turning deep.

“Alright Kisal, I will send it by tonight, goodnight.”

Before he could reply I hung up the phone.

The rain had subsided, so I walked towards the balcony. It was chilly outside. Lights flickered in the nearby apartments like a firefly army. I stared into nothingness, remembering Shane. To place it accurately, remembering Shane’s tragedy;

Shane had been an undergrad student at the University of Colombo. The time had been around 1.15 a.m. He had just completed an assignment and started walking his way to his hostel. He just didn’t know that it was his last walk. He had been stabbed to death by an unknown gang (they assumed) just less than 1km from his hostel. Two years it seemed, had passed and the murders were living a free life- worse could be someone we know. I remembered the aching remorse of the mother over the loss of her only child. He gave her wings. With him gone, she is a bird, wounded, her wings cut.

I was consumed by a strange desire to see Shane. I had seen a photo; a handsome young man he had been. Desire so strong, I made my way to the desktop, Susila and I shared. I typed my password in a frenzy, 2 digits and a name. I logged in. My fingers faulted as I typed his name…Shane JKS. JKS… a strange initial to use as a face book id. I was filled with a mysterious foreboding, a heavy feeling that tugged at my heart. I paused before I clicked on his name. Why am I doing this? “I do not see any harm.” A part of me said. “But this is weird, you are going through a dead person’s stuff,’ a part of me argued.

It happened in a flutter of an eye, it was as if someone pushed me into clicking the name. Here, I was, starring at a picture of Shane in a bike. There was another picture of him playing basketball. He has had a muscular body, lean and strong…now gone. He had a dazzling smile, my heart raced for an unknown reason as I starred at his face. This beautiful young man is now a dear departed. The bed he once slept on is now empty…yet here he was on face book, alive, smiling, a heart throb- another 100 years to live.

The last post was just before he was murdered. Murdered. Stabbed in cold blood. He had posted “last assignment done-free as a bird”. How very very strange.

“Crraaaaaaaaas” the china vase on the coffee table shattered hysterically. I froze with fear.

Just the wind. I walked hurriedly to the balcony and closed a wide-open window (I had no recollection of opening it, though)

As I hurried back, shaking my head at myself. For a moment I felt…better I forget.

I searched my homepage for new posts, time to forget the dead and be absorbed in current affairs (Susila’s photos for example). I had received a couple of friend request from guys I didn’t know, it was the third guy who filled me with dread. Shane JKS.

A chill passed along my spine. It was as if someone had shut down my senses, I felt my head spinning.

***

It must have been quite a few minutes later, I regained my consciousness. I could feel beads of sweat rolling under my breasts. I shut my eyes tightly and opened them. I found it strange that a glass of water was placed in front of me on the table. I could swear, I hadn’t kept it…or did I?

Shane was dead, who was this?

With a sudden urge, I confirmed the request.

You have a message from Shane JKS. A notification I received, seconds after confirming he �"who-was’s friend request.

I could feel the horrible dread enveloping me, darkness and chill crept to all sides of body, mind and soul as I clicked open the message.

Shane JKS: KISAL IS NEXT

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

I really do value any kind of review. Thanks!

Reviews

[MoonlitWillow]

Your descriptions are good, sometimes even a little poetic. My favorite line was "He gave her wings. With him gone, she is a bird, wounded, her wings cut."

It was a subtly creepy story, with the potential for more. Good job!

[Chris Shaw]

You kept the suspense running all the way through this story to the dramatic ending. I don't normally read many stories as I confess to being a poetry freak, however you had me hooked here. A good descriptive and suitably creepy write. Well done Seuwandi.

Chris

[Seuwandi]

Thanks a lot for your review Chris!

[Chris Shaw]

You are welcome.