Fancy

Ksheeraja

"I was like, why you so obsessed with me?"

Ksheeraja looked like a maniac. She knew it and everybody in the vicinity was thinking it, but there was nothing she could do about it. She was in a precarious situation. Not exactly life or death, but close. She glanced over her shoulder. He was still following her. She increased the pace of her power walk, desperate to get away from the man who refused to leave her alone. He had been observing her for quite some time. She had first noticed him at the park. He had smiled at her, and greeted her politely, and Ksheeru, in a moment of stupidity, had started up a conversation with him. He had been stalking her ever since. 

He followed her everywhere. He had purchased the house next to hers, he went shopping in the same stores as her at the same time, he had even obtained a job at her workplace. She had thought of reporting him, but she knew she had no solid evidence. 

She knew she could defeat this man at his own game, she just needed a plan.

She glanced over her shoulder again, and realized that he was closer than he had been before. Thinking quickly, Ksheeraja led him through the crowded mall into a quiet store. She discreetly slipped through a door labeled 'Employees Only' and he followed. Once inside, she turned to face him. He smiled at her, a greasy smile, that made her shudder. He then began to walk towards her, in slow measured steps, his smile getting wider with each step.

Ksheeraja stifled her misgivings, and moving quickly, grabbed the knife she had kept sheathed in her bag and plunged it into his heart. He looked at her with a surprised expression, and that was when she remembered. 

The memories struck her like a bolt of lightning. She remembered this man, this poor, patient man who had put up with years of her mental illness, playing her deranged games, and giving up everything and everyone he loved to keep her satisfied. The memories came rushing back, and, with a heavy heart, she looked down into the face of her dead husband.