The moment I was waiting for, the whole day, was just thirty minutes away. I kept staring at the silver enameled wall-clock with its intricate fretwork-ed hands chasing each other. It was past mid-night. Two –seventeen, to be precise. It was now or never.
I cannot afford to lose more time. I slowly slipped from my bed, careful not to wake Mathangi. Just when I tried to get my mobile from the cupboard she turned to my side and started placing her hand near the place where ideally my chest should be present. I got back into bed just in time. A few minutes later she turned back to her side, leaving me sweating with anxiety. I tip-toed out of my bedroom silently; with my mobile in my hand. My heart beat was frantic and I could see it trying to escape out of my ribs.
I gave a shake to my Moto 3G and it gave a bright beam of light that illuminated the path right ahead of me. The eerie beam of light, cast scary shadows of vases which looked much more pronounced and terrifying in the darkness of the moonless night.
I inched my way towards my destination. There was a distant howl. It was so real yet, so ghostly. I felt a shiver run through my spine. I stood there frozen, giving myself time to catch my breath. Just then there was a small creak of the door. The distinct sound of a hand, pushing a door open.
That’s when I saw her.Her hair was down, and her clothing flew around her, gently touched by the cold breeze. She felt like an apparition. She slowly started turning to my side, as if she sensed my presence. I hid behind the huge mud vase. She started walking towards the opposite door. Thirty seconds later, I heard the door close. I know it will be unbolted. This was my chance. I had barely two minutes. I opened the door slowly, the golden light illuminating my face. The silent scream was muffled by the creak of the door that was opened once again.
**The next day morning: **
Mathangi stood there toasting my whole wheat bread. It was something I hated. My tasteless meal was placed before me. I watched with dread as she opened the refrigerator. She grabbed two oranges and small bowl. My heart collapsed down to my stomach. She opened the bowl, looked at the content, kept it aside to let it cool and started working on the oranges.
My heart went back to its place. I was safe. The crime was clean, without any evidence. The scoop of carrot halwa that went missing was never seen or noticed again. Well, what did you except from a forty year old diabetes patient? Sweet, eh?