I looked over my shoulder, it was still there. The dark figure looming in the distant background. I couldn't shake it off. I couldn't dismiss it. No matter where I turned a sharp corner or intentionally entered a throng of people, I couldn't shake the stalker off. What was worse that no one noticed it. No one noticed my paranoid, and no one noticed him... following me around. I took off inside the coffee lounge. The blast of cool air from the air conditioner should have dried the sweat from all the running, off my face. But nothing seemed to get better. I sat in the corner, oblivious to all the laughing youth, the brooding business folks and the haplessly in love young couples. I placed my head in my hands and shut my eyes tight.
There was a throbbing in my head, I knew my hands still trembled.
"Excuse me ma'am?" A voice broke my reverie.
"Yes..." I asked confused and a little annoyed at being jolted.
" Should I shut the air vent for you?"
I couldn't understand what he meant. He looked back at me quizzically, "Ma'am...?"
I clasped my hands in front of me and that's when it struck me... my hands were still trembling.
"No I'm fine. I'm fine.... err... Thanks!!"
The waiter moved away and went back to setting the chairs and tables in proper order. I just couldn't believe that I could dread something so bad. I looked out of the large glass windows onto the busy street. I had lost him, a weight lifted off my chest. I could breath easily, my hands trembled less.
"What had just happened, what had I almost done!" I thought. I wanted to run away. To hide where no one would ever find me. But it would be running nonetheless. The caution bell had tolled long back but I was too madly in love to hear it and now that I had finally realised it was too late. I still remember that dreadful phone call. A monstrous voice, "Do as I say, or it won't be good for you."
Something had to be done... Something had to be done... and done fast. I was afraid. Afraid that he was coming for me.
"What do you want?" I had yelled. He had responded with laughter. "What do you want!!!???" I yelled
"What do you want? Madam... What would your order be? Madam...?" The waiter was peering down at me, concerned.
"An Irish Coffee, please."
The waiter walked away. I peered down at my hands still trembling. Something dripped onto my sky blue jeans. Something red. I turned my hands over. I shrieked they were covered in blood. The glass doors reflected my silhouette, my face was smeared with blood too. I looked away too afraid to scream, everyone was looking at me, they could see the proof of my crime written in red. I tried to look away and there he was again. The shadow, the apparition, the gory remains of him that was a man.
I remember how he had walked to my apartment late that night. His smug face, distorted into a smile of victory. I remember how he had placed his phone, recorder on... that's how he preferred it... recorded each and every disgusting moment, so he could replay it in his times alone. I remember how my stomach churned. I remember Saira crying when she told me what he had done to her. I had made up my mind he will pay.
"How will you pay? Cash or Card?" I remember having asked him.
"Ma'am...? Cash or card?" The waiter was back with my beverage.
"Card..." I replied, handing him over my debit card. He fiddled on his machine and handed me a printed bill and returned to the counter.
Having placed his phone on the counter opposite the creeky, wobbly bed, he stripped down, folding his shirt and jeans in a neat pile. The sight of him naked even in that dimly lit room evoked not an excitement but a disgust in me.
" I don't have forever, you little whore! Hurry the fuck up." He growled.
I did as bidded. A gleam of silver under the pillow of that decaying, abhorrent room caught my attention. Just as planned. I began undressing, he leaned back taking in my nakedness. He licked his lower lip. His excitement evidently and visibly rising. I waked reluctantly towards the bed. Something that he didn't like, he caught my hand and pulled me inhumanely towards himself.
" Ride me!" He commanded.
"Sir, may I kiss you first?" I asked nervously. The thought of my skin touching the perverted bastard made me want to retch. I mounted him, careful to avoid or limit physical contact to the bare minimum. I leaned forward, slowly gliding my hand under the pillow.
His eyes shut tight, His hands groped my backside. I just couldn't take it anymore. I pulled out the knife and butchered the bastard. His blood spewed and splattered all over my naked body. I felt like I had been baptised. The filth washed off my body. Like I had been bathed in the holy waters and anointed with the holy oil. The weapon of murder quickly discarded. Dressed and out in the street. That's when it happened, I saw him, alive and following me. Now, here he sat, across from me at the coffee table. His smug face mocking me.
"They're all looking. Tell them what you did." He smiled
"No..." I muttered and looked away.
The people around busy. They couldn't see the bloodied man in the room.
"Tell them!" he commanded.
"No." I said louder than before.
"Confess!!" He hissed.
"Go away!!" I yelled "Go away... leave me alone... you're not true... you're a figment of my distraught brain.. a figment of my fearful imagination... go away... go away..." I was screaming hysterically. Everyone was now staring at me.
"Not till you CONFESS..." he laughed.
" Okay... I DID IT... I CONFESS... I KILLED YOU... YOU BASTARD...!!!!" I was crying and screaming and trembling.
Sinking onto the floor, I wept "I confess..."
