The Wrong Number

Chapter - 8

                                                                                        ‘The voice’

It was her picture. She was lying on the ground, her body was covered in mud and blood, her face was not visible but the bruises were. People were gathered around her, she looked like a dead body in that picture. It was impossible for me to sleep after seeing that ghastly image. Still, I put my phone aside and tried to sleep, but that image was all over in front of my eyes. I wanted to talk to her again. I wanted to scold her, not for sending that picture to me, but for being in it. At the same time, I wanted to be with her, to hug her, to take care of her. I was falling for her despite her being a bit weird. I tried to put those thoughts aside and fought for some sleep, but my mind was pretty occupied with her, ultimately I gave up. I could see light appearing through the window; I thought to go for a morning walk even though I was not a morning person, I never could jeopardize my sleep for anything, especially one in the morning just to go out for a walk but that day was an unusual, an exception. I got up from bed, put my tracksuit, and went downstairs. Mom was still sleeping so I gently opened the front door and went outside.

                        The first breeze of that chilly morning made me quiver deep inside. I considered going back inside the house, but I didn’t want to do the same fight with my sleep as well as her thoughts, so I started walking. It was a little foggy outside and I couldn’t see anyone in the street, not because of the fog, but no one was there, except me. I started walking rapidly to create some heat in my body, but it wasn’t helping much. I stopped by the park which too was empty. I thought to go inside but changed my mind for two reasons, first, the grass seemed quite moist in there and second I forgot to wear shoes. I decided to remain only on the paved road and started walking toward the market. I reached the spot where yesterday I was going to hit by the car. I still couldn’t believe no one did see anything. I stood there for a few minutes to recall if I had missed something during that incident, everything was quite apparent still nothing was making any sense. Inside the house, her thoughts were messing with my mind, and outside those were related to that incident. I wanted to run like a madman if that could help me a bit, at the same time I wanted to sit down too. Then all of a sudden I started craving for a tea. Usually, I don’t drink, but at that moment I wished to have one cup of it. I went to the market to see if there was any tea stall opened, there were none and none of the shops too was opened yet. I started shivering too, so I decided to go back and make one for myself at home. By the time I reached home, mom was already up and in the kitchen making tea for her. She saw me entering the door and got surprised to see me up that early as she too knew I was too lazy to go for a morning walk.

“I just wanted to have some fresh air,” I told her even before she could ask me anything as I knew what she was going to ask.

“So did you have it, the fresh air?” she smiled and asked.

“It’s quite chilling outside, so is the air. I couldn’t inhale much, it was giving me shiver,” I replied while shivering. She laughed and went back to the kitchen.

“Mom, if you are making tea, can you please make me one cup too?” I asked while sitting on the sofa.

“First walk and now tea; is everything alright with you Sid?” she asked while coming out of the kitchen.

“It’s just a tea mom,” I said.

“Okay, I’m making for myself, I will for you too,” she said and again went into the kitchen. She wasn’t satisfied with my answer, but she didn’t say anything more. After a few minutes, she brought two cups, handed me one, and sat with the other one in front of me. I took the first sip of the tea and again shivered, not that the tea was cold, it was hot enough to burn my tongue, but my body was quite cold and it was not ready to bear that hotness. After a few sips, my body started getting comfortable and I started enjoying the tea.

“Mrs. Verma has asked again for your help to teach his son,” she tried to start the conversation,” she was asking for quite some time,” she said. My mom didn’t have any idea that it was not the right time to have such a conversation.

“I would see if I get any spare time for him,” I replied calmly.

“She knows that you are free these days because of your vacations,” she said.

“Yes, so? I am not obliged to teach his son. It’s my choice how and where I want to spend my free time,” I was less calm this time while replying to her. I was getting irritated. That was not the conversation I expected or wanted to have at the start of my day. But my mom didn’t know that and it was wrong of me to show such behavior to her. It was not her fault that I was out of my mind, out of my sleep. I knew, the more the time I would spend there, the more I would get frustrated and ultimately would end up hurting her.

“Don’t worry, I would find some time to teach him,” I said calmly. I didn’t want to make her more worried with my odd behavior.

“I’m going to take some more sleep now,” I said as if I had slept during the night. She didn’t say anything and I came back to my room. Sleep was just an excuse; it was nowhere near my eyes. I checked the time on my phone; it was showing eighteen minutes past six a.m. I wanted to fill in my time but was not in the mood to do anything specific. I didn’t want to read the book or play the game on my phone, not even on my computer. I wasn’t in the mood to sleep too, but I was assured about the one thing which I wanted to do, I wanted to talk to her. I thought to call her, but it didn’t seem right, so I thought a lot, then I thought some more, and then I called her. No one picked the call after several ringing. I was just going to disconnect it when she picked it or I thought she picked it.

“Hello,” I said. She didn’t say anything. She might be in her sleep, I thought, and said hello again.

“Hello,” I heard the voice on the other side, but it was not of her, it was of a guy.