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A Plane Apart

A Plane Apart

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Jan 12, 2022
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Fiction
Paranormal
It was only when Beth laid down that she realised just how tired she was and she closed her eyes awaiting a well earned sleep. Almost instantly as if someone had turned on a mini television set inside her head she was looking into a room which she recognised as her new front room, with all the boxes taking up the majority of the space just how she'd left them, the wallpaper as horrible as ever and the woodwork as dented and chipped as it was, the only difference was, which wasn't as apparent straight away, there was a man standing in the doorway looking around the room at the occupying boxes not really doing anything at all, then suddenly he looked startled, he jumped as if shocked and looked straight up to the ceiling of which would be Beth's room. As quickly as it had started it had stopped and Beth awoke and sat bolt upright with this sudden feeling of shock as if she had been caught hiding somewhere she shouldn't have been, she was panting as if she had just ran around wembley stadium a couple of times. Beth then turned towards the doorway half expecting to see the man in that doorway now but he wasn't anywhere to be seen, trying hard to calm down by breathing deeply she tried to think clearly about what she had seen, what she had felt in her heart. It's what had woken her up with a jolt..... He knew also that she had seen him...... He had felt her too and somehow knew and felt her eyes on him, how she didn't know but for that split second he had felt her the same way she had felt him. It gave her a rush of mixed emotions first came great excitement then a overwhelment of fear. She couldn't for the life of her imagine where the excitement had come from as she couldn't remember when she had been less excited in her entire life.
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#81
hauntedhouse
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The door opens and closes thirty times in five minutes, the table clutters endlessly. What's happening? Why am I being held by two officers in the corner of a counseling clinic? Is this an interrogation ground now? Shadows race past me, like mirages in a desert, faces flicker into view only to vanish the next second. The officers speak, but I can't hear them. My senses are failing me. Something inside me is taking control, and I might faint. If I wake up in a hospital, will this still be a nightmare, or something scripted? The city woke to devastation. The news spread like wildfire-Dr. Nadia, a champion for human rights, had been murdered in this very clinic. Yesterday, she voiced her fear for her life; no one listened. Now, she's gone. The press churned out articles minute by minute, TV channels broadcast live updates, and the internet roared with outrage. Police teams haven't slept. Top agents were deployed. That's how I met Inspectors Carla and Javed-while being held as both the prime suspect and the sole witness to this chaos. Dr. Nadia wasn't just a leader; she was a symbol of hope. She fought tirelessly for the oppressed, for justice, for rights the government ignored. Yet, she seemed to know her time was near. A week ago, she hinted at it but continued her fight. Yesterday, she paid the price-her life. Now, the city mourns her loss, consumed by guilt for ignoring her cries for help. The last time I saw Nadia, she was here, in this clinic. She didn't want to live. She seemed tired, desperate for respite. How does someone so adept at convincing others to hold on end up wanting to let go? Her death feels like a betrayal. She trusted us, and we failed her. I failed her. Now, it's on me to prove this was no accident-a cold-blooded murder. Or was it?

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