34. Back To You

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name: Back To You
word count: 4500 words
published on: 29th December, 2019

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<unedited>

You could break my heart in two
But when it heals, it beats for you
I know it's forward, but it's true

I wanna hold you when I'm not supposed to
When I'm lying close to someone else
You're stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it
If I could do it all again
I know I'd go back to you.



N A N D I N I


Abhimanyu was dead.

As much as I hated to accept that to myself most times and ignored the truth for as long as I could, the unchangable fact was that my bestfriend was dead and I was there when he lived his last moments.

I was there when he said his last words and when his eyes closed one last time.

"It's going to be okay."

"I'm sorry."

Our last conversation was still fit into my head like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. I saw him die.

I paced around back and forth, my eyes involuntarily kept falling onto the letter that lied upon the bunch of roses since last night.

It had been twenty four hours since I'd seen it, leaving me a lot of time to overthink every possible scenario that could lead to this letter, but in none of them could I find my bestfriend alive.

There's no way that Abhi was here and alive, when I saw him leave the world in front of my eyes.

There's no way this could be a prank, because nobody from my past knows my adress. Manik does, but he was with me, in Paris, and I don't think he knows about Abhimanyu. I texted Cabir the address much after the bouquet arrived. Zubin knows I live here, and after me, he's the only one who could come and go from my house, but he doesn't even have the slightest idea of who Abhi is– was.

Ever since I received this, I haven't left my house even once.

I called in a sick day at office, despite feeling terrible for doing that in the absolute first week since I started working, but I couldn't help it.

Deep down, I hated to accept that I had hope.

I was desperately thinking- what if he turns up?

He– Abhimanyu.

I was hoping for a dead man to show up in my house, and as mad as that sounds, I was desperate.

I sure as hell knew I wouldn't be able to work with such a state of mind, when every possible second, my heart kept fluttering, I could feel anxiety spike and I felt curious to know what it is, who it is and why.

Why now, why after five years of his death did someone decide to play such a horrible prank on me?

And the letter, in itself was very horrifying. It was a printed note, and every sentence on it seemed calculated in a way that terrified me.

I fell asleep on the sofa last night, and I've barely eaten. I just kept waiting, and although I knew he wasn't coming, I knew this was stupid, there was something in me that didn't let me move, at all.

The perfect silence in my large house was disturbed by a loud doorbell and I flinched, almost jumping at my place.

My eyes glanced the clock on the adjacent wall. 8PM. I wasn't expecting any visitors.

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