Misha
It had been two long hours since I returned from the racecourse, my body aching and craving a restful power nap. The memory of the day’s excitement felt like a distant echo, drowned out by a creeping anxiety that had settled in my chest. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts of that unsettling parcel and the note it contained. The incessant buzzing of my phone, with its flurry of notifications, only heightened my sense of unease. Each message felt like a taunt, a reminder of the stalker who seemed to know my every move.
“Ughh, stop thinking about that psycho,” I muttered to myself, swinging my legs off the bed and sitting up. “Ese pagal log bohot saare hote hai, itna kyu soch rhi?” I tried to reason with myself, but the tension in my head only tightened.
(Ugh, stop thinking about that psycho, there are many such crazy people, why are you giving it so much thought?)
With a heavy sigh, I ran a frustrated hand through my hair, feeling the strands stick out in disarray. I stood up, the cool floor beneath my feet grounding me as I walked toward my cupboard, determined to distract myself. I needed to find a party outfit for the gathering Daadi insisted we attend tonight. Despite my exhaustion and reluctance to face a crowd, I couldn't let Daadi down. She had been buzzing with excitement about this event, and the last thing I wanted was to disappoint her.
I opened the cupboard, surveying my clothes, the hangers clinking softly as I searched for something that would meet Daadi’s expectations. I wasn't particularly fond of crowded places, especially with the lurking anxiety from my stalker. Still, I knew I had to go; it would make Daadi happy, and honestly, it wouldn’t hurt to dress up for a change.
As I rummaged through my wardrobe, my eyes fell on a box tucked away in a corner. Curiosity piqued, I reached for it and opened the lid. Inside lay a beautiful light pink lehenga that Sam had gifted me a long time ago, its delicate fabric glimmering softly in the dim light of my room. I hadn’t had the opportunity to wear it until now, and the thought of finally unveiling it sent a rush of excitement through me.
With trembling hands, I lifted the lehenga from the box and placed it on my bed. Its vibrant color and intricate embroidery seemed to call out to me, lifting my spirits slightly. *This is perfect,* I thought, feeling a wave of relief wash over me.
Just as I was about to lose myself in admiration of the lehenga, my phone buzzed again, jolting me from my thoughts. I reached for it, my heart racing as I answered the call.
“Mish, ready hai? Hum nikalne wale hain,” Sam’s cheerful voice broke through, a welcomed distraction.
(Mish, are you ready? We're about to leave)
“Nikalne lage? Itni jaldi?” Confusion washed over me as I processed her words.
(Leave? So soon?)
"Seriously, jaldi?? time dekha hai??"
(Are you serious, Soon? Have you looked at the time?)
"Yeah obviou... shittt Sam mai late hogayi," I exclaimed, glancing at the clock and realizing I had completely lost track of time, my mind ensnared by the earlier events.
(Yeah obvious...shit Sam it's so late)
"No worries, abhi bhi ek ghanta hai, you'll get ready easily, so just relax Ms. Racer," Sam reassured me, her voice light and calming.
"Hmmmm, okay Sam listen na, I'm not feeling too good, tu mujhe pick kar sakti hai kya? I kinda don't want to drive." I confessed, the words spilling out before I could think them through.
(Hmmmm, okay Sam, listen, I’m not feeling too good, can you pick me up? I kinda don’t want to drive.)
"Arre, neki aur puch puch. I was anyway looking for an excuse to get out of all this, I'll be there in half an hour, get ready," she laughed, her carefree attitude easing my worries.
YOU ARE READING
His altruistic love
General FictionOne day, she would love someone; at least that was my hope-or maybe it would be me. Me? No, that couldn't be, right?. Tears welled up in my eyes at the thought. -Him "I thought I knew you, but now it all f...
