Just Because Stories

Deadline.

Deadline.

-Her shrill scream pierced the air.

The clackitty-clack of her heels against the cold concrete rung out in the dead silence, each landing a successive blow to her hope of getting away unscathed. She sobbed hysterically, overcome by the intense waves of hopelessness that washed over her, mercilessly shredding what remained of her resolve. Her wilted dress; fresh, flouncy, and entirely glamorous merely a few hours ago clung to her petite frame, torn and stained. She paused for a moment, suddenly mindful of the absence of the footsteps that had been pursuing her. Utterly drained, she leaned against the surface of the wooden fence nearest to her and slid against it to the ground, wincing slightly at the splinters that poked at her bare arms. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, she tried to compose herself and think clearly, to make sense of the events that had left her fleeing, screaming and sobbing like a madwoman. She smiled a wry smile to herself...

Hardly an hour ago, she had arrived at the party on the hand of one of the most sought after personalities of the country; hair perfectly coiffed and styled, makeup flawless, and the carefully-practiced yet seemingly casual enigmatic smile plastered across her face. They gracefully strode the length of the red carpet, pausing briefly to smile for the cameras clicking away at the speed of light. Once they got rid of their coats, they stepped into the brightly lit and lavishly decorated ballroom. James brushed a chaste kiss across her cheek and apologetically excused himself for a while, nodding towards a group of friends and acquaintances he was expected to greet. She gave him a muted smile, dismissing him with a slight wave of her hand, and made her way to where her mother sat, a benign and platonic smile permanently fixed onto her face to partner her demure posture. “Is he the one?” she asked, making no attempt to mask her curiosity. “are you FINALLY going to settle down?” She smiled reassuringly at her, making no promises. If she only knew that James was merely her attempt at trying to forget Him...And a pathetic attempt, might she add. She laughed humorlessly while sipping at her bitter-sweet drink. Her uninterested gaze drifted across the various faces present when it zoned in on a single one, his ruggedly handsome features hard to miss, and even harder to resist. “It can’t be.” She gasped. Nonetheless, there he was, his casual stance and careless expression mocking the inner turmoil and mixed emotions within her.

Suddenly, he got up and headed towards a tiny door towards the back of the room. She acted on instinct, anxiously scrambling to her feet, and pursued him. He disappeared behind the door and she followed, only to find herself in a deserted alley, and the sound of the lock clicking shut behind her. Exasperated, but not finding anyone around there, she decided to make her way to the front of the building and enter by the main entrance again, and took a couple of steps towards that direction when a masked man stepped out from behind a nearby trash can. Caught by surprise, she could barely comprehend his presence before he was towering over her menacingly. His eyes filled with obvious lust and breath reeking of stale alcohol, he advanced, cornering her as his coarse hand shot out towards the front of her dress. Backed up against the rough wall, she could do little to stop him as the sound of the delicate muslin being ripped filled the air. Suddenly jolted into action, she pushed against him with all the force she could muster. The assailant momentarily lost his footing, and taking advantage of that split second, she ran; as far away from him as she possibly could. The rest was a blur of never-ending, dimly-lit deserted streets, hysterical sobbing, frantic scampering, and pure fear.

Listening intently for a couple of minutes and convinced that he wasn’t following her anymore, she tried taking deep breaths to calm her quivering body. Giddily getting back onto her feet, she clutched the rim of the fence warily as she regained her balance. She willed her tired feet to walk to end of the street, from where she had a vague idea as to the way back. As she neared a sinister looking tree of enormous proportions, a dark figured suddenly stepped out of it’s shadow. The chirping of a cricket accompanied her recognition; her masked assailant. As his hands shot out in an attempt to subdue her, her flailing arms knocked away the shawl that concealed his identity. A shaft of light from a flickering streetlight nearby caught the features of his face, and she froze in shock. She gasped audibly as the dread consumed her, numbing her resolve. Her knees gave way and she fell to the ground as the suppressed memories of that face; the face which had haunted her childhood, tore apart her being and made her dread life itself; surfaced mercilessly, reducing her to a quivering mass of desperation. She let out a sob as he advanced leisurely, as though mocking her, reached out and grabbed—

………..

Neha yawned audibly, her weary eyes still glued to the screen as she took another sip of the coffee that had gone cold long ago. She was confused about where to take her story, and had tried reasoning with her publisher to extend her deadline, but he would have none of it. She had to submit a completed draft within the next three days, or risk her publishing contract. Her gaze momentarily shifted to the digital clock at the bottom of the screen. 3:54 am. Sighing dejectedly, her fingers resumed their pace across the keyboard again…