Broken
1801 Words
"What did she want from me? What did I do to her that's making her angry?"
Then it dawned on me: why hasn't she attacked me yet?
At that moment, my fear gave way.
Curiosity had taken over.
I took a deep breath and spoke, softly. “Who are you? And what do you want from me!”
I was surprised by the sudden harshness in my voice.
No answer.
She just stared blankly at me.
Did her eyes just soften?
A sense of sadness emanated from it, a deep, profound sorrow.
Maybe that was my cue. Maybe I could try negotiating my way.
I adjusted my awkward sitting position on the cold hospital floor.
My fear replaced by a strange sense of compassion.
“What do you want from me?”
Anaaya seemed to hesitate.
Then, as if she was flowing with the rocking chair, she floated closer to me.
Tears were running down her pale white cheek. What remained of her eyes pierced my soul.
Her form began to shimmer, as if it were fading away.
“I’m sorry,” a voice whispered, a voice that wasn’t Anaaya's but my own.
The words echoed in the room, filling the silence.
Then, Anaaya was gone. The room was empty. I was alone.
A sense of peace washed over me.
The terror was gone, replaced by a strange calm.
There was something more to this place.
Or so I thought.
Looking out the window again, the first few rays of sunlight touched my face. I felt like I was floating outside myself, looking at myself from out of my body.
Sunlight streamed through my bedroom window and cast dancing shadows on the wall. Then I jolted upright in bed. My heart was racing, and I was soaked in sweat. It was just a dream. Another horrible nightmare.
I collapsed back against my pillows, gasping for breath. Details of the night's events replayed themselves in my mind.
I scanned the room for any signs that I hadn't been alone all night. Nothing. Yet I could still feel her strong presence in my room.
Everything looked normal.
But as I lay back in bed, a nagging feeling persisted. The dream seemed so real, terribly frightening. Was there something more to it than just a mere figment of imagination?
I shut my eyes, trying to rid myself of the nightmare, but the images stayed vivid in my mind. I had been imprisoned in this weird hospital — what was the name again? I still can't remember. I was haunted by some ethereal entity. The terror was all real. I could still feel it.
I opened my eyes, gritting my teeth to rid myself of that dream. I slowly got out of bed, then began with my daily routine, trying to keep my head clear and be more practical.
Still, the recollection of the night remained, hovering above my head like a dark cloud.
I knew then that I would never forget that dream. It had changed me in ways which at that time I could not fathom.
As the water from the shower washed down my body, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still out there, waiting, watching.
Of course, it wasn't the first nightmare involving this same ghost. But each new one seemed to progress from the last.
Just then, Nisha's phone beeped 7 A M.
She put down her journal as she finished recording her dream.
Today was going to be hectic. And she had two portraits to deliver in Queens before heading to the gallery to meet Arjun, her boyfriend.
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The streetlights were dim.
It was already 7 P M on a cold and unusually dusty evening in Manhattan.
Nisha Bennett was surrounded by the crowd as she crossed the busy street.
Pedestrians, yellow taxis, bicycles, scooters. It’s been a hectic day as people walk home after a day of work or head for their night shifts.
As she rounded the corner, Nisha's emotions were on edge.
Was it excitement?
Or was it fear?
She wondered.
She couldn’t get her thoughts away from the text message she had just received a few hours ago:
“Hi, babe. Will you be coming to the gallery this afternoon? I have something important to show you.”
Nisha was nervous and excited as she approached the gallery.
“Is he for real this time?” She wondered, a girlish grin settled on her face. “Maybe he was finally going to propose, right?”
Today was the 7th anniversary of their love relationship.
She and Arjun had been lovebirds ever since college.
They had shared the same dreams, done everything together, and shared the same passions as budding artists.
Even in college, they were everyone’s favorite couple.
They were on every lip – both good and bad.
Yes, it hasn’t been rosy ever since they graduated. But Nisha had always been an understanding lover. They'd both worked hard to build their career as artists. She always wanted to see her man succeed. And against the world’s opinion, Arjun had the potential, so she'd supported him in every possible way — emotionally, financially, and otherwise.
After all, no one was perfect, right?
Someday, he would fulfill his dream of becoming a renowned artist, take her around the world, and prove all their doubters wrong.
But right now, standing there in front of their shared gallery, she felt a twist in her belly.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Nisha,” she heard the voice in her head. “You’ve forgiven him before, and he might do it again.”
Brushing away the negative thoughts, Nisha pulled the massive gallery door open.
She pinched her nostrils with her thumb and index finger, wincing at the familiar smell of oil paint and varnish. It should have always soothed her (every painter knows that smell). But tonight, she felt like vomiting as she stepped inside.
Nisha?” a soft voice called from behind.
Swinging around, she turned to see Lydia, one of the gallery assistants, looking at her with pity in her eyes.
“He’s upstairs,” Lydia said, looking away.
“Thanks," Nisha responded, looking up at the stairs above her head.
She could hear the sound of her heart beating in her chest. It grew louder with every step she took.
“I hope he's fine. Oh, God, let this be good news!”
Up the stairs and at the office door, she could hear faint voices coming from within.
And as she stepped closer to the door, she recognized one of the voices. It was more audible now. It was the sweet and persuasive voice of her heartthrob, Arjun.
“Yes, baby, you’re always driving me crazy. Trust me, she's not coming today anymore. She won't find out.”
Nisha's heart sank.
Pushing the door wide open, she stopped in the doorway, stunned, white as snow.
There, standing in front of his office table with his back towards the door, was Arjun, desperately thrusting deep into the woman sitting on the table, holding her legs up in the air. She had nothing on except for the short silk gown that was already roughly folded up around her waist.
Glancing over Arjun’s shoulder and seeing Nisha standing at the door with tears dripping down her cheeks, the woman smiled at her coyly as Arjun thrust deeper.
Arjun, noticing another presence in the office, quickly turned around.
“Nisha!” Arjun screamed, springing away from the woman.
Well, this was the third time in two years that Nisha had caught him red-handed.
“It’s not what you think,” he begged, scrambling around for his clothes, red with shame.
Nisha stood as if she’d just been struck by lightning. She felt a cold punch in her stomach.
“That’s exactly what it is, Arjun” she replied tearfully. “So, this was what you wanted to show me?”
“But you said you would be busy. You weren’t supposed to show up by this time.” Arjun stammered defensively, frantically trying to find where he’d thrown his trousers.
The woman was now sitting confidently, legs crossed. She was elegant, tall and much younger, likely in her early 20s. She looked like a Turkish model with golden hair, crystal-clear skin and an overly confident look.
“You must be the lucky girl," she spoke coyly, displaying the shining diamond engagement ring she’d picked up from the table before Arjun angrily snatched it from her.
“Well," she continued, "I'd accept it if I were you. However,” she leaned forward as if to whisper to Nisha, “He’s not a keeper. But, he’s good down there.” She winked, lustfully biting her lips.
Nisha couldn’t take it anymore. This was the last straw.
Turning on her heels, she hurried back down the stairs and ran out into the street as fast as she could.
“Nisha, wait, I can explain!” Arjun cried as he ran after her half-clad.
She wasn’t going back. In their 7 years of relationship, she’d never for one day looked at another man for whatever reason. They’d always fought for her attention, but she’d remained loyal to this one man. But this time, she was done.
The ever-busy city swallowed her. The noise, the lights, and the tears in her eyes all blocked her vision.
“He betrayed me again? On our anniversary? And he still had the guts to want to propose? After all that I have done for him?” She wailed.
She walked fast. She wasn’t sure how she would push this pain away, so, she just walked, not sure where she was going.
At least she wasn’t going to her apartment. Not yet. Just facing the door of her empty apartment, an apartment full of memories of all the time she and Arjun had shared, was unbearable.
Or.
Should I call Lena?
“Why are you letting this guy use you like a thrash? When will you learn that all men are useless?”
Those were Lena’s words barely 10 months ago. She had shown Nisha the leaked tape of Arjun humping another girl at a nightclub. Yet Nisha still chose to forgive him and accept him back.
“No, Lena warned me. I didn’t listen. No need to call her.”
Suddenly, she found herself outside a bar she had never noticed before. She wasn’t one to drink, but right now, it looked enticing.
The neon sign flickered: 'The Last Stop'
It suddenly felt fitting.
"Maybe a drink will help numb this pain, even if only for a little while."
The hefty bouncers couldn’t peel their eyes away from Nisha as she pushed open the bar door and stepped inside the dimly lit interior.
- Writer
