When dark illuminate | ✎

|14| Smokes of unstrapped emotions

❝ It's a written song to bewitching our fate, twists & turns are part of it. ❞

. . .

    Thuds, another thuds.

    The roaring sound of the wind is clicking continuously. Maybe another thunder is striking in the sky to magnify a glorious scarlet beaming ray; as quickly it comes, it goes as well. And the sound came— someone's hitting the glass with stones.

    At first, I thought maybe the roaring sound was hitting the window glasses but it's getting louder with each moment.

    I was about to overlook and dozed off; yet the discerning sound of clicking in the pavement is irksome. I pull my cardigan from my closet, embrace myself in it; fidgeting with the buttons in nervousness.

    My house is on the sidewalk of the nearest forest in our city. I know, it sounds crazy but I love the transition of a greenery environment & there's no other apartments in the neighbourhood. It's a perfect place to be myself & find some peace, so when I found this place, it's win-win for me.

    Slowly I crease my bedroom door, navigate my way in the hallway. It's dark, reminding me I'd actually put off the lights before I went to bed; just when I tried to find the switchboard —I heard movements.

    Someone's here, heavy footsteps are echoing in this deserted space. A silhouette in the dark. I hurried my way over the sofa, stayed behind it. This anonymous person is slowly sinking in the ground, and looking frantically as if he's in a search. The roaring sounds have been stopped now, slowly the moonlit is deeming its way through the shuffle of curtains.
 

     With the slight light illuminating this dark hallway, I can only figure out— this is a man, with a broad shoulder, tall frame; leaning in the doorframe. He looks abstract. I tightened my cardigan around my torso.

     What's he doing here at this hour? Surely I know, my work as a journalist indulged: carrying out mundane collections of stacks at market place or any crime scene journals. But that doesn't mean— I could have a man in the middle of the night without knowing his purpose. Okay, this sounds pretty peculiar.

   From the distinct corner, I see he pulls out a heavy metal from his pocket. Is it a gun? Oh gosh—is he here to kill me? I don't want to die, dear lord— I haven't even found my soulmate yet.

    My phone— where is it now? Damn, I forgot it on my bedside table. The man who's supposed to be my murderer, is walking towards in the whole house. Just like a predator looks for his prey. But he's humming something. The way, the slow pause; and the humming continues. . . I know this.

     It's not the end of our fate. . .

    Even when the brightest shining lost its realm. . .

    We know, we'll find our way. . .

    In the middle of glitter night. . .

  
     My ears perked up and a silent spectrem of bewitching wrath firmed my body with it, like it's on fire— it's alive. Before thinking anything else, I got up from my hidden escape. Hearing my clutter movements, that guy looks on my way.

   And suddenly the lights turned out. He saunters his way towards me. He has a smug smile in his place; looks like he can easily get out when his work is finished.

   "There, there. There you're, though you will give me a hard time as I've heard a lot of things about you; being a savage queen," he said with a teasing smile and put his gun on his left side.