Six feet from you

Your Ghost

Death always had her way...

You cannot run from her..

You cannot hide..

Nor can you escape her...

So it was best you embraced death with acceptance...

Though...there was always a question...

How does it feel..when you're dying..when all of your organs start to fail...when first your ability to move leaves you followed by failure in drawing in breath...

Do you feel fear when the world starts blurring and all the noises muffle like you're drowning under the water... trying to speak..trying to breathe...but none happens...

Does it feel awfully empty when your soul leaves you..do you feel it leaving or the conscience leaves with it...

How does it feel to be dead?

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Rain was a lovely weather, she muses, it washed away her pain, let her cry, tears mixing with the rainwater.
It was lovelier when she was young...when she danced her happy steps to the music of raindrops hitting the metal roof of her home...when she jumped and splashed into the small puddles...when the frogs came hopping and croaking and she picked them gently and laughed when they croaked at her...it was a beautiful time and a beautiful weather...

Sad for it to be so quickly pass away...

She can feel the dampness from she's standing on the porch of Haseena's home...watching quietly as the owner  sat or more like haphazardly laid on the iron swing. The rain continued to pour hard with the harsh winds adding more force to the already piercing cold shower, completely drenching Haseena, who didn't even flinch a single time since she stumbled her way to the swing after their supposed argument.

It wasn't even a proper argument, she sighs, Haseena just came home stumbling and tripping and falling, clearly drunk and she just asked a single question and somehow it flipped the other woman and the result, well it's just wasting away on that swing...

Karishma draws in a deep breath, it smells of fresh soil and rain and chrysanthemums probably, she flips her gaze towards the swing, to Haseena who by now may have gained some sense of clarity and was trying to get up..failing miserably...
It would've been quite funny...if it wasn't so depressing...haseena all drunk..out there sulking under the rain, cold shitty rain, in the ungodly hour of night, it was past 1 for shit's sake...

She calls out from where she's standing, takes another long sigh when her voice is lost amidst the howling rain and then promptly starts walking toward the damned swing...god knows why is she so angry...she hasn't felt that emotions in so long...it feels foreign..

Haseena looks up groggily, ah..her drunkness seems to have decreased significantly...a shadow looms over her but honestly she doesn't care, she doesn't care much these days.
"Haseena, we should get inside", the shadow says, "you're going to get sick if you stay out any longer and it's going to be mess handling you like that". Handling me?? Ha, as if I need someone to handle me, she snorts and then barks out a gutteral laughter.

"I don't need you to handle me and even if I did you can't", she feels the rage building in her chest, people said rage was hot to bear, like there was fire in your chest and someone was adding fuel to it, she felt the opposite, the cold biting ice filled her whenever rage hit, it burned in its own way, eating away at her until everything got frozen and became numb...

The shadow sighs, it sighs a lot these days, she doesn't care.

"Tell me one thing, Karishma Singh"

"Haseena?"

"No..no..tch..Maddam sir, you will call me Maddam Sir"

"Maddam Sir"

"Tell me"

"How does it feel to be dead"

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Author's Note

Sooo...here is the story I've been really really thinking to write about..and finally had the guts to start it...
For now I have to not decided to wrap this fic up within 3 or 4 chapters or prolong it...so plot may vary....
For now..enjoy folks..

Peace out