The boy’s sitting against the wall, legs out in front of him. He is probably 10 or 8- it is hard to tell. Anyway, he is there, just sitting and staring at me. It’s starting to creep me out. It is not normal to keep staring without even blinking. It is almost10 and he has been watching me for over 4 hours now. It is unusual.
It has been happening for three days now. But today is different; it is intense as if he is planning to hurt me with his eyes. His cold brooding eyes are piercing my soul and sucking life out of me. For the past three days, I cant sleep, I cant rest, I cant think. Every time I close my eyes, that tormenting face just stares at me as if it is trying to say something, though I don’t know what. I look in the mirrors and I can feel a shadow lurking behind me. I am too scared to go in dark now, I feel like I have been watched constantly. I can hear whispers, men, women, children wailing in agony and in pain. My head is going haywire and I feel like drifting away, far far away from reality.
The constant feeling of apathy has not changed. A storm is coming, East Wind, probably. No, it is the East Wind. The deadliest of all which uproots the weak but cant make the mighty fall. I can see it from the window. The sky is angry and birds were buzzing a lot in the evening. And he is still there, looking blankly. He is sick, I think and he is making me sick. I should sit at my rocking chair. It will calm me down may be release my tension. Tension, it is like my rocking chair, no matter how much I rock it will remain at its place just like a tensed mind, no matter how much you think you will never get a result.
The bell is ringing. What!!? It is 12 at night. My eyes may have closed for a nap. I am feeling sleepy. Who will come at this time? The boy. He is not at his window. Not staring at me. May be, he went to sleep. The bell is still ringing. I cant think straight.
“I am coming. I am coming.”
I should check through the eye hole first. Who is this man? I do not know him. He is sweating profusely. May be, he is in danger. “OPEN Up.. PLZ HELP!!” the stranger screamed, banging the door at the same time. I think I should help him. He seems to be in trouble. “Ok wait.. I am opening the door…”
“Thank you!” the stranger said with a mysterious grin in his face.
“Wait!!You are….I have seen you in the news…..”
“Sorry..” the stranger smiled taking his gun out.. GUNSHOT GUNSHOT
Thank God…That was dream. No. This is not my house. I am in middle of a park. No, it is not a park. It is cemetery. I can see the tombstones. Why am I here? This feels real yet somehow it is surreal. I don’t remember coming here. My head is still in pain. I think someone is standing behind me, I can feel the breath. “WOOO” The boy.
“What are you doing? Wait!! What am I doing??”
He is still looking at me as if he wants to say something. I look towards the direction where he is pointing. “It is a funeral. Why do you want me to do?”
He holds my hand. It is cold as winter. The preacher paying his respects and saying the chants. He takes me close to hearse so I could see the person. It was me. I am at my own funeral. I am dead. A sense of haunt is creeping all over me engulfing me in its dark blanket. I looked down and now I can see my wounds. It means I died last night. I turned towards the boy “Who are you?”
The boy said with a smile “I am the angel of Death. I am going to take you home.”
