A Stranger

A Stranger (Part 1)

"You find love when you least expect to, and lose it when you are sure that it is in your grasp." - Ruskin Bond

I gasp, pushing the surface beneath to get up but it's seemingly a vain attempt. My muscles sore, head hurting and I have a taste of blood in mouth, perhaps hours old. My fragile arms aren't strong enough to take load of my whole body, hence, I lie down again. Something in me is very much aware that I've been sleeping from a long time. In spite of opening my eyes after few minutes, I can see nothing. A strange silence, aphotic darkness is stretched in front of my eyes and no matter how much I try, there's nothing that I can see. Have I gone blind? Whimpering and fighting for calmness, I somehow pull myself up by taking support of the adjacent wall. It's pitch black, like someone has painted the world with a thick black color and I don't understand whether it's my vision that has been affected or it really is dark out here. I just sit there, leaning back against the wall and breathing heavily.

Trust, terribly complex term while exactly opposite of how small it appears. In the world filled of heretic souls we meet in every next road of life, one must be really an idiot of claiming to find love, to establish trust, to believe someone, unaware of the pseudo affection they're showing; Yes, I'm one of those idiots. And I've to pay a big chunk of my life for it, for falling in love, for having the audacity to horribly taint that word in name of love. But am I really the one to be blamed?

I tip my head back as tears roll down my face, body despairing and hurt while I don't seem to decipher what was happening, where was I and what this place was. Lingering my hands down, I find that my knee is bleeding, soaking the near area of ripped jeans. A gasp escapes my throat as I touch the wound, the blood hasn't stopped since someone dashed me down on the ground and pulled with my hair. It was horrendous, disturbing and insanely inhumane to treat a person like that, but I had experienced it. I don't know why exactly was I being tortured, all I know and feel is this pain coursing through my body, dismaying everything with time.

My heart and body wasn't even done crying over the agony that I heard something, a movement or perhaps someone breathing. All my senses heightened as I wasn't ready to go through that tormenting again. Throwing myself back against the wall, I try to hear more, to see at least something through this dark but I failed.

Gathering a little courage, I murmur through the pain, "Who's that?"

I heard no response, only silence. Just when I convinced myself that there's no one in here, suddenly a manly voice announces himself, "You need to stop crying"

Startled, I blurt out again, "Who is it?"

The man goes quiet again, I can hear him breathe but he doesn't seem interested in answering my question.

"Why have you brought me here? What do you want?" I say that in one breath. But he remains quiet.

My fingers clawing my knees from fear as I'm waiting for him to speak up, for a couple of minutes there's no sound except for my rapid breathing. I know he's still there because I can hear him breathing too, although a lot relaxed than mine. Suddenly, he lights up a match just in level to his face and I can see him. A handsome man, perhaps in his late twenties is looking at me in silence as I sit there before him, gawking, aching deep down and distraught from outside. He's constantly glaring at me, calm but ardent. I can't seem to utter a word as he continued to gaze under the light of match but soon it died out and he hissed, throwing the matchstick away.

It's dark again, I hear him clearing his throat as he says, "I didn't bring you here. I'm just as terrified."

Don't know why, but I believed him. I reassured,

"You didn't?"

Before he could answer, I throw another query at him. "Who are you?"

But he chose going quiet again. For a couple of minutes while I endeavour to hear anything besides the sound of our breathing, I wait.