The Window

5 Hours After...

A bleak room. Alone inside. Deathly stillness in the air. Malodour of the carcass, getting stronger. Blood dripping from my hands and face. Veins popping out. An itch on my cheek.

Stumbling to the washbasin. Turning the tap on. Trying to wash it off. The putrid smell, the blood, the sins, all of it.

Refuses to go. Stains are embossed permanently on my skin. Rankness remains as well. Growing more frantic, using more water.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror. Can't recognize myself.

A spectre like figure in the background. Squinting my eyes to get a better look.

My gut. Says it's her. Her face white and ghoulish. Transitioning from pallor to rigor mortis. Mud particles stuck to her skin. Metallic fork sticking out of her side. Depression in her chest intact...

Heartbeat quickening with her increasing proximity.

"Look at what you've done to me." She whispers into my ear, sending shivers through me.

~*~

I jerked up from the bed with a start, and looked at my surroundings. As soon as I saw the familiar furniture, I sighed in relief and rubbed my eyes in an attempt to calm myself.

I was in my studio...safe. Not in some grim, haunted room.

It was a nightmare...It wasn't real...

I finally got up from the bed and headed straight for the shower. The shower I'd had last night hadn't been effective enough in getting rid of that foul smell. Perhaps, that was the reason for the eerie nightmare.

I turned the knob of the shower to the right and let the water drench my skin once more. I scrubbed myself harder this time and thankfully enough, by the end of it, I could mostly inhale the scent of my body wash.

After drying up, I opened my closet and picked out a decent set of formal clothes for work. After what happened last night, my mind needed a distraction. Besides, I'd never missed a day of work ever since I'd joined the company. And that wasn't going to change even if I'd been digging a grave last night. Also, it would look suspicious if I didn't show up, and I didn't want to alert anyone as to what Manik and I'd done last night.

I put the coffee maker on and finally pulled the curtains of my window to the side. I gulped as I looked at Manik's apartment to find it completely empty.

Maybe he hadn't returned. I knew that he was off somewhere, disposing of all the evidence of the crime. The fork, the gun and so on. However, I had no clue as to where he actually was.

It seemed like he knew what he was doing. Especially after what I saw last night, I was more than ready to accept that he'd dispose of the items effectively. It was probably better that I didn't know what he was planning to do with them.

Last night, Manik had said that we needed to meet up in order to get our stories straight. I knew that we had to do it as quickly as possible...but when would he return?

I didn't have any way of contacting him. I guess I'd just have to get back from work and see if he'd returned.

I took the cup out of the coffee maker and set it aside on the study table. I walked to the door and picked up my copy of 'The New York Times', which had been fastened in the door handle.

I placed it on the study and sat down on the chair. As I took the first sip of my coffee, my eyes fell on the headlines of the front page.-"Three Women Reported Missing In The Last Two Months."