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Road To Nowhere

Road to Nowhere _ Gopika Khatri

 

 

For most people, today is a normal day. I see their bored, pale faces as they step in and out of the train. I try to analyze their expressions to see who they are, to understand them, to know them. Maybe this is just a failed attempt to find myself somewhere in their empty eyes. The train starts moving.

Until yesterday, my life was just as any other person’s life: boring. However, last night I did something so bad yet so powerful that makes my heart beat faster and my blood feel like fire running through my veins. I still feel his warm blood running through my long, thin fingers. I still feel the cold metal cutting and penetrating his soft skin as my hand wraps it frenetically. I still see his eyes, sparkling for the last time before his soul reluctantly escaped their grip. It is a wonderful feeling. The train stops.

Now, after having looked for his face in every stranger’s face I’ve seen, I realize that he will always be there, watching me. He sees everything I do and feels everything I feel. He is there, standing behind every window. His bloody eyes are staring into my soul and stabbing it like daggers. Every inch of his pale skin seek revenge, wants it, needs it, begs him to do it. The train starts again.

I feel the movement of the train beneath my body. The roaring engine soothes me as I accept my destiny. I feel every beat of my heart getting stronger and faster than the last one. My eyes sting and my head hurts. I hear his steps getting closer. His mouth is moving. He whispers something. “I love you”. Another stop.

I close my eyes and feel his breath in my ear. Deep down, I know no one can see him. No one can feel his cold touch or hear his soft, soothing voice. No one would. No one could. He is gone, forever. The train starts again.

He is here again. He is closer beside me. He hums a lullaby. His hand gently caresses the dagger. He takes it slowly. I take it slowly. He raises his hand. I imitate his moves. The cold metal touches my skin. I shiver. I am brave. I look at him in the eye. I feel my warm blood running through his fingers. My fingers. I whisper “I love you too”.

Category: Flash Fiction | Views: 86 | Added by: Apu | Rating: 4.5/2
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