Where life takes you...

The Devil and her Puppet

Steven Richards

There she stood, her back facing me, carrying on with her work so casually like she had not just leaked the video of spoiling my reputation in front of the entire world. She did not even flinch at the loud bang of the door or my loud voice, it was like she was expecting me to come and confront her. Did she do all of this to spite me, entice me, to get a reaction out of me?

Besides her stood yet another one of her puppets, the beast of a dog, glaring me down ready to pounce on me the minute he gets order from his master aka the devil. I am stunned with her ability to not even acknowledge my presence.

Out of frustration and irritation I snap at her "Hello Miss Arrogant, I am speaking with you! What are you playing at Miss Oberoi?"

There he is now, full on barking at me. I'd be lying if I said I was not a little scared of the dog. Would she stop him from pouncing at me, I doubt that. I am not a huge fan of dogs and you surely won't love dogs if one of them is aggressively barking at you, ready to kill you.

"Dex, calm down honey," and the devil speaks. Her voice, it seemed very familiar, I couldn't quite place it though. The dog whose name I now assume is Dex stops barking but continues to glare me down.

"What are you talking about, Mr Richards,?" she says slowly turning around.

The moment I look at her its as if I have stopped breathing, my tie suddenly starts to feel too tight. I am so startled I take a few steps back, so many things start to run in my mind, that night, how beautiful she looked, the way she spoke, the emotions in her eyes, her smile, her dance, the sound of her laugh, her disappearing and then my attempts at searching for her everywhere, her scarf that was the only proof of that night, it is like I am completely paralysed, nothing seems to make sense. I don't know if I am happy to finally see her again or angry that she was just a few metres away from my office, my house and yet in these 10 months we never crossed paths.

She looks as beautiful as she looked that night. Her mid-length brown hair with streaks of caramel falling in perfect waves, she is wearing a dark peach tight skirt reaching just below her knees and a white off the shoulder top exposing her sharp shoulders and collar bones looking mesmerising, her coat resting on the back of her chair. I still couldn't believe it is her.

Even though she looked the same her eyes were somehow different, her brown eyes didn't look the same. That night her eyes spoke so much, more than words ever could, her eyes showed so many emotions from sadness to longing from hurt to strength, they looked vulnerable but at the same time fierce. Her eyes were so expressive so beautiful to look at but today all I could see were a pair of brown irises, cold and devoid of any expression.

The worse part is that they didn't even show recognition of that night, making me think if I was seeing a dream, if she was not really standing in front me. It happens right, when you think about someone so much they end up coming in your dreams in the most twisted way which does not make sense at all. If it is a dream, it is very difficult to say if its a good one or not. I don't like seeing her so devoid and with no memory of us, of that night more so because I hold that night so close, there's not been a day I haven't I thought about it.

I always imagined what I would say to her when I meet her again or what she would say, well this is definitely not what I imagined, "Hello, Mr Dramaqueen, I am speaking with you! What brings you here for the third time in a day, Mr Richards,?" She says with raised eyebrows folding her hands beneath her chest.

She really doesn't remember anything from that night maybe because she was drunk. I don't understand why it makes me so upset that she doesn't remember anything. I try to put everything aside, if she doesn't remember anything, even I won't bring it up, especially not now when I am super pissed at her. I am already having a tough time realising that she is the same girl I met that night, when she is acting nothing like her.