Dear Clara

10.

*That night*

         The lane was deserted and a sepulchral silence had enveloped the moonless night in its embrace. Clara had insisted that we go home late that day as her parents were visiting some friends in the neighbourhood. Her hands were full of odds and ends we had bought that evening. Her green eyes glistened under the light of the streetlamp.

"I am not going in without you, Clara. You are going to catch a cold standing here in this freezing night."

  "I would rather catch a cold than come with you to that dusty old Bookstall."

"Alright Your Highness, suit yourself. I am going in."

"Don't take too long, Mel. This place is giving me bad vibes."

"Alright. Be back in ten, I promise."

I pushed the door and went inside. An old lady was sitting at the counter, her spectacled eyes happy to see a visitor. Like most book shops, the place was cozy, calm and comforting. It wasn't very large as I could see the last rack from where I stood. A plethora of books adorned the shelves, from Shakespeare to Stephen King.

I looked around, hoping to find something I might like. I walked across the aisles until I came to my favourite section. The smell of new books wafted through the air. Something caught my eye. A worn out leather bound diary had fallen to the floor. I picked it up. Its emerald cover was torn at places. There was a strange drawing of a girl on the front page. I took it to the counter, where the lady sat pouring over a book.

"You sure honey, you want to buy this?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

I paid for it and thanked her. Pulling the door open, I stepped outside into the cold night. Clara wasn't standing in the spot I had left her.The shopping bags rested against the streetlamp pole. She wasn't close to the shop anywhere. All other shops in the street were closed, so there was no way she could have entered any of those.

"Clara, where are you?" I shouted into the darkness. The eerie calmness unsettled me. This must be one of her stupid pranks.

I walked ahead clutching the diary on one hand and my purse on the other. I took out my phone and called her. The call went to voicemail. Strangely enough, there was nobody in sight. I searched all around the place, shouting her name aloud. I began to panic. I could hear my heart thudding at an impossible rate. The situation seemed bizarre like it was some part of an exceptionally directed nightmare.

I picked up my pace. It was almost 30 minutes now since I last saw her. She would never leave me and walk home alone. Just when I thought of returning to the book shop to see if she had gone there in search of me, I saw a figure lying on the asphalt. Befuddled in panic and confusion, I ran towards the spot yelling her name.

"Clara.." My high voice ended as a whisper. A pool of blood surrounded her head like a halo. Her green eyes were wide with shock. Her limbs were twisted in odd angles. I felt dizzy and numb. I wanted to scream and wake her up, telling her this was a bad joke. I stood there, my eyes transfixed on hers, not knowing what to feel. The diary fell to the ground with a thud.

Tyre marks surrounded her body, scattered with broken shards of glass and thick drops of fuel.
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Author's Note:
This is going to get much darker guys. Hope you liked this chapter. Don't forget to comment and vote.❤️