I'm completely trapped in this; I got no other way to ext myself from this stress. My head started to spin very often, I cannot concentrate on anything. I'm running out of time and booze. I got no money left to feed my stomach with food and my stress with booze and cigarette. It's been nearly ten whole days I stepped out of my apartment, I feel like a home sick. I haven't eaten properly I haven't bathed properly and I haven't slept for a day. I realized my life when my body begged for some food and sleep but my mind begged to release it from this trap.
My whole apartment is messed up, I usually keep my bed clean but now it's surrounded by soda cans, food bags, booze bottles and novels. I feel I'm lying down in the garbage. I read novels, literature, poems and whatever is available for just one single idea but I'm ending up throwing the entire book around. Everything pisses me off, while I'm going through all these I receive a regular phone call from the publishing office to submit the story. The deadline is going to end, so they chocked me with two options one is to submit the story on the time that mentioned in the signed contract or to return the advance money which I spent on buying useless books, booze, cigarette etcc..etc.. This is another worse situation of my life; I know I'm the only reason behind it. I have to do something before things turn into a disaster.
I went to my bed and started to drink whiskey; my mind worked like a puzzle solver and ended up by giving a thought and I worked as per it. I collected all the money which I had and counted it, I have enough to afford one book. I decided to buy a book which is completely worth to give me an idea or I have to dump that book and leave this city. I have no idea where to go but I can't let myself in their hand and turn into a psychopath.
As I planned I took the money and reached the regular book shop, just like always the shop very buys and the shopkeeper was greeting all the customers. The moment he saw me he ran towards me
"Sir Hello long time no see, think you're so busy writing your novel. So when can I expect your new creation?" he asked with business-minded overwhelming joy which pissed me off.
"Can you just shut your mouth and move away" I expressed my frustration in words; the shopkeeper's face was slapped with surprise. He slowly moved away.
His words repeated in my head "when can I expect your new creation" what a book seller knows about creation. With stubborn mind, I roamed around the shop and took literally every book I see. I go through the index but nothing satisfied my urging heart. One after another and that went on like a never-ending loop road. Before I invited myself to this shop everyone was buying finding their need but now everyone was buying peeking into my action. Only a true drug user is capable to find out the real drug among bullshits. My dirty face, stink cloths, messy hair, unshaved beard and my flip flops made everyone weird, I could feel awful and the smell on me is unbearable. The hunt for a perfect book turned into a pain in the ass, I'm losing my patience. I started to disrespect the book I threw one after one and that made everyone to fix their eyes on me but I never minded my urge really need a perfect drug right now. And finally I lost my mind I held my head and kicked the rack, all the book started to shatter and fortunately nothing fell down but within few seconds, unfortunately, one book fell down hard and the cover page got heavy damage. I felt "FUCK", as soon I kicked the rack the shop keeper ran towards me, he saw the damaged book.
"Are you crazy or what?" I could see a rage over his eyes.
"No! I'm really sorry I....."
"Wait" he stopped me abruptly and sniffed on me.
"Are you drunk?"
"No, I'm not"
"Don't lie you, I could literally smell that on you" he looked around and asked everyone to carry on with their work "Look I don't want to create a scene here. I want you to leave the place right now".
What he said really meant sense to me. I decided to walk out so I moved slowly.
"Hey you wait"
I turned back and asked what.
"Nobody is goanna buy book with a torn cover so pay for it and take it away".
"What no way I don't plan to buy that book. I came for something else" I pledged but nothing worked. At the end he grabbed my collar and forced me to pay for the unknown damaged book, he threw the book on my face and screamed me to walk out in front of everyone. This was a huge humiliation.
I slowly walked and reached my room. I felt blank I felt I have no brain and I know this is not going to work out so I thought it's better to leave GOA the place where I always wanted to live than getting caught and face another humiliation with a legal case over my head. So without wasting any time I abruptly packed all my things, I took out my secret box in which I use to save money for an emergency elope.
I literally packed everything; I could simply start my life on GOA with all the stuff I packed. Before I leave something stopped me yeah the remaining whiskey, I sat down on my suitcase and chucked all the whiskey and threw the bottle away for my surprise I don't hear the bottle cracking when I checked the empty bottle landed on the book I purchased. I moved slowly near the book and went down to the knee. I picked it up "why you choose me there must be some reason," I thought and decided to read the book so I flipped the book towards its torn cover page. "A BOOK OF LIFE" by Deepak.
YOU ARE READING
The Novel
القصة القصيرةPeople learn things from many different ways of observing; listening, reading. Amid reading took the main part of human life, people started to read ever since they started to learn. In historical people read symbols where huge meaning conveyed in t...
