24 hours earlier

The first Friday of Spring had arrived lifting the long winter gloom. Most offices in the town had declared holiday today; which meant most of the town was going to be outside the town. My flat mates at the apartment had decided to go out on a road trip and that meant the flat would be reverberating with radio silence. I don’t think they even asked me to go with them. They don’t like you. Its okay. Nonetheless, I felt happy about the timing. All I had to do now was to concentrate on the deadline and finish the college applications in the break! My flat mates had laughed at the idea of spending time alone writing essays on why a college should spend time and money on the likes of you. They also had doubts whether I would be able to complete even a single essay. You’re so weak and spineless. I don’t tend to get angry at them; they are generally mostly very good people.

I hear a low whisper from across the door while still in bed.

“Do we ask him if he wants to go?”

“He is very strange. I don’t know how you tolerate such a failure in your house. Kick him out already” replied a vaguely familiar female voice.

“Shussssh, I think he is awake”

I wish I’d never heard that. I couldn’t hear them anymore, perhaps they were now being more discrete. Friends, can’t trust them anymore. I stayed in the bed till I heard the door to the apartment being shut from outside. I waited till the locks turned and footsteps faded away. What an amazing start to the day it was thought. Its going to be bad very bad. I was very motivated though.

I made slow progress and got around to finish only one question by afternoon- for some reason I wasn’t able to focus properly today. The second question had me thinking a lot; the kind that probes you and demands to know the secrets you have been trying to hide all your adult life. Well I had to elaborate on my passion and how my passion directed my choices in life.

You can never write this answer because you don’t have any passion. You are worthless.

Not entirely true. I was famous when I was younger. I used to give speech on stage. I had many friends because of that. My family loved me and was proud of me. I used to be in the drama troupe as well. Being an inanimate bench on the stage doesn’t count and your parents never had the heart to tell that you sucked. You suck

I was stuck; I could not focus properly. I needed to find my passion. I knew this would take time, so I decided to cut myself loose from the set up and wander about downstairs in the open. On the way back to my flat, I ran into my maid who had not been coming to house since recently. Her husband had quit the telephone exchange as a repairman and now was a nuisance to her. She had to work extra houses to keep up with the spends.

I confronted her about the dirty dishes and the window she had left open.

“Someone could have come inside” I exclaimed.

“C’mon, I was here only yesterday, how could ALL the dishes be dirty” retorted the maid.

Strange. Don’t trust her. She promised she would come in an hour and scurried on her way to the old woman on 1st floor.

I had once seen her stealing from my wallet but I did not let her know about it. I generally disliked confrontations and did not want to embarrass myself from being shouted at. Since then I have not trusted her entirely. More so lately, as she leaves the windows and doors open ‘accidentally’. I think she might be planning to sneak in later in the night and steal things. Or may be hurt you.

The stairs in the apartment circle around the elevator and one cannot see the next floor unless they have completely climbed the previous one. Few floors never had any lighting; I wondered where was all the money they collected for maintenance purposes disappear.

“Salaam sahib” greeted the security guard. You cannot trust him; he must be spending all that money on himself. Selling the bulbs for alcohol.

I nodded and said nothing.

The elevator was not working. Guard must have disconnected the power. I was definitely good at acting in college. My friends had caught me in front my web cam once when I was lip syncing to the Ping Pong song. They thought I was good. May be that’s my passion.

That’s worthless. You have no passion. You only occupy space.

I climbed up the stairs. As expected the alleyway was dark. Lights from beneath the door of the flats helped me navigate through to the second floor. There I saw a man dressed in a dark coloured shirt standing in front of Mr Murali’s door — looking into the flat through the peep hole. I was now watching him curiously from the periphery of my vision. He also seemed to have an eye on me. Cannot trust this man. As I took my steps he started knocking on the door. He did not look like his son; but who else would meet the old man. His son had shifted out with his wife and child to a new place in the city last year. Who would marry you. Since then no one had seen Mr Murali happy ever again. Only the sight of children put a smile on his face now. The stairs turned left and soon the strange man disappeared behind. I could no longer hear the knocking- perhaps he was their son visiting for the holiday. Nobody misses you.

I sat back hoping the answer would stream through in one shot, but of course not even a single neuron fired. It was 4PM already and I was nowhere near completing the second question. Perhaps my flat mates were right. I sat near the window and looked outside. There were kids playing and shouting. It was cloudy and I could almost smell rain. I noticed there was a man standing in the play area going through the garbage. I might have seen this guy with the maid couple of times –might be his husband waiting. He suddenly looked up and looked straight into me. I got embarrassed and I panicked. I pulled the curtain back on the window. They are watching. Close the window. Hide! From the corner of the window, I saw him walking towards the apartment. Is he coming inside? Does he know that I am alone? The maid and his husband are upto something. They’ll steal from you. They’ll hurt you.

Someone rang the bell. They are here. Run. Hide. Quick!

I looked through the peep hole. I could see her standing. She was wiping her face with the sari. She turned behind as if trying to signal someone and then she looked straight into the peephole. I lurched away from the door.

“Bhaiyya, open the door”

“Bhiayya…bhaiyya”

She continued to ring the bell.

Don’t open the door. Don’t go out. They are waiting.

I crouched my way into the kitchen and sat on the corner afraid. The ringing stopped after a while. She was definitely with her husband and they are trying to trick me.

Got to be strong. No one can come inside. They’ll kill you.

It was 7 PM now and it had started raining heavy. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that someone was watching. I went back to the window to look if the husband was back in the garden. I switched off the light in the room and pulled the curtains aside. It was dark outside. The street lamps near the park were out making it really hard to see anything outside. It took time for my eyes to adjust. I could only make out human like figures moving about in the garden, but nothing more. I retreated back into the house. I looked up the number to the closest police station and decided to call them. I picked up the phone and before the number got through for a brief second I could hear two people talk. Though it was just a noise but the voice seemed familiar – it was the maid! Did they mess with the phone box below? I remember her husband used to work at the telephone department. He could be the other male voice. Cut the phone. They are listening. They will kill you. Cut the phone now. Right now.

Just as someone picked up the phone in the station I cut the call. I thought of braving my way down to the ground floor and let the guard know about the maid’s intentions. I could not trust the security guard completely. The husband and guard were particularly chatty all the time. Who knows all the three were probably in cahoots. Remember he switched off the elevator. Talk to no one. Go nowhere.

I had to stay inside the flat, lock myself up, talk to no one and go nowhere. I sat in the corner of my room with legs crossed in front. I held the legs with my arms and nervously rocked back and forth. I sat there for an hour. It was now 8 PM. The rain had now become a heavy downpour. The sound pierced through the thick walls and had mixed with fear. Nothing had happened for the last half an hour. I relaxed a bit; perhaps they got scared from the phone call to police station and backed off. Then suddenly I heard a scream coming from the floor below. The scream was blood curdling. I froze. My eyes froze. I stopped breathing. It was an old man’s voice. Another cry and a thud. Muffled voices and then silence.

My mind raced fast trying to make sense of this. Adjusting to present. The scream put everything out of balance; out of focus. While I was frozen in motion, my head trying to figure out whose scream could it be. There were two flats in every floor. The scream definitely came from 2nd floor, meaning it was either Mr Murali or George. George had moved into the apartment last week and was much younger, and It was definitely not his voice. Then did that strange man hurt Mr Murali?

You’re pathetic. He killed the old man. And he will kill you next. Door is not locked. They are coming inside. They will kill you.

I got up and raced to the front door immediately. The door was wide open! I looked around inside, there was no one. I shut the door immediately. Bolted all the locks. Looked through the peephole. There was no none. How is the door open? Did they come in? I thought.

They are inside. They are going to kill you.

I had checked, there was no one. I wanted to check again just to be sure. I went into the first room, there was no one there. I looked under the bed, inside the closet and in the bathroom. I went into the second room, I heard whispers from inside the bathroom. I grabbed the cricket bat lying on the floor. I was so scared; I would have made a weapon out of anything. I tightened my grip and opened the bathroom. There was no one there. They are inside, they will kill you. I came outside the room and went towards the kitchen. As I turned the corner, I saw the maid holding a knife. Her husband and the strange man were just behind her; they were now looking straight at me.

Kill her! Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!

I froze with my eyes widened. It took me seconds to register that I had to run. I flung the bat really hard at her and I turned around to run. I heard her scream and fall on the floor. The stranger was the same man whom I had seen knocking on the door and probably who hurt or killed Mr Murali. The trio must have been on a rampage tonight, looting every flat in the apartment and murdering people. I slammed the door behind and latched my door shut. I could hear their footsteps near the door. They were whispering to themselves:

“She’s dead! They will catch us”.

“Lets kill him”.

“Help! Help!” I screamed to everyone and no one. I pushed the table against the door and piled everything on top of it. I was shivering with fear. I went over to the window and I screamed, but the rain drowned out my cries for help. They were now pounding on the door. I pressed my hands against my ears and cut out the loud thumping on the door. I sat against the wall, closed my eyes.

They will catch you! They will kill you! They will catch you! They will kill you!

I was frozen, almost catatonic. Few minutes later I hear a feeble sound coming in through the window. The thumping on the door had stopped now. I lurched over to the window to see if someone heard me and was calling out to me.

“Please help me! They are people trying to kill me” I screamed as loud as humanly possible.

“I am ….. to ……… door, … locked …… ins…” Rain and thunder swallowed the words.

He cannot help! You can’t trust him!

“Door locked...outside…. I am climbing up from the balcony” said the familiar voice. This was George from the floor below. I felt relieved, I could trust him. He was coming to help me. There had been no sound outside my room till now. Soon George appeared outside my window.

“Give me your hand”

“Fast…” shouted George. The howling wind drowned out most of what George was trying to say.

I helped him into my room. His long hair, thick beard and his shirt were dripping with water. I shut the window. The howling stopped with the window now shut.

“Are you alright man?! I heard you screaming for help. What happened?”. He sounded brave and in charge of the situation already.

I pointed towards the door “There .. two people…killing me” words were failing me. I started to cry.

He shook off the water from his head. “Calm down! Man! We will call the police”

“Do you know these people”

“No”

“Did you call the police?”

“No! They are inside my phone somehow. Can’t trust them”

“Alright. Are they still outside?”

“I think so”

He started to look around for something. “Do you have anything that you can hit them with?”

I looked around. I was blank. I could not think.

He removed the rod from the pelmet and threw the curtain aside.

“Can you help me remove these things” he started to clear all the things I had put to keep them from entering this room.

He cannot help you! He will kill you! Stupid! Idiot! He will let them in!

“What are you doing?!! Are you crazy? They will kill us”

“Its alright man! We will protect you” said George.

I started to help him remove all the things from the table and finally set aside the table. Now, there was nothing protecting us from them. He folded both his hands around the rod forming a tight grip.

We both took a pause, looked at each other. He was still drenched and dripping water on the floor. We breathed in unison and slowly opened the door.

“Stay behind me” hushed George. I followed him as he slowly moved outside the room. I looked around – there was no one. George looked back at me with puzzled expressions. “I don’t think they are here; they must’ve ran away.” “Look the doors wide open”. I felt a little safe with this idea of the two men having left the flat.

You are going to die. Soon.

I shushed George and pointed him towards the kitchen. I went about to close the main door shut and stayed there while George inched towards the kitchen.

George seemed frozen and in shock. I braved one step after the other and came about George who was as still as a statue and had eyes as wide as afternoon sky. The maid was lying there in blood. Her head was resting by the floor and her hair was stuck to the congealed blood. The place where her head was split open partially was still oozing blood. Her eyes were twitching from side to side.

“She is dying” said George.

“We must help her”

Don’t listen to him. Run. No one must find out.

“How do we do that?” I was still in shock. I wasn’t able to focus clearly.

“Lets call the Police”

“And phone the hospital too” I gathered some sense.

“I’m getting the phone from your room” said George and left for the room.

I traced her eyes back and forth as if in a trance. I was scared. People would find it out soon. You are a shame to yourself and society. My life is over. You disgust me. I thought I heard his footsteps and I turned back to see if George was coming back. He wasn’t there.

“Did you find the phone?” I asked him over the hall with a hushed tone hoping he hears it.

“Yes, what’s the number for the police?” replied George.

“Just look into the last dialed list”.

“I can’t find it man! There’s no last dialed list”

“Okay just call 076..” My voice broke. I turned around to see the maid holding my leg and pulling herself up. I freed myself from her grip and pushed her down.

“George! She’s alive! She’s awake!”

She managed to hold on to the drawer handles and lift herself up very slowly. She looked at my feet and lurched towards me. I looked down to see that the knife was still there. I picked it up before she could have it. She wrestled to free the knife from my hand. She clutched the blade and didn’t let go. She had the particular look on her face. She was raging and bleeding. Her eyes were blood shot. She was overpowering me.

“GEORGE!!”.

She pushed me against the wall and hit me with the hand. I felt my grip on the knife getting loose. She was now holding the knife between her hands. You are going to die now. I leaned backwards as she took a swing at me. I thought I dodged the knife, but I felt a little warm under my arms.

“GEORGE!!”.

She had managed to jibe me under my right shoulder. You deserve this. I was furious and it hurt unimaginable. Rage took over me. I rammed myself into her with all my weight and managed to let the knife loose from her hands, but I fell down in process.

“GEORGE!!”.

I pushed myself against the ground with knife in one hand. Maid looked at me with pain and anguish. During the fall, I had latched the knife in her neck near her throat and tore hear neck open. She was choking in her own blood.

“GEORGE!!”.

She managed to pick up a glass bottle and came at me with her last draw of breath. Kill her. Make her go away. Before she could land it on me, I slashed her right above knee cap. She took to tumble and fell straight down on the floor.

I sat in the pool of blood trembling as the adrenaline slowly withered away. I still was afraid of her. The kitchen floor was now deep red and there was no sign of George anywhere. Where is he? He must have definitely heard all of this? Why is he not helping?

Run before you get caught. They are coming! I could hear the siren in distance.

I could hear footsteps near the door. I turned to see if George had finally come out, but he still wasn’t there. I think some people might have gathered outside hearing the cries. I could hear old lady whispering to someone “I never trusted this man before, lets kick him out”.

I hear the police sirens really loudly now; they are right below. Someone is knocking on the door. I don’t want to be caught. I want to finish my college. I froze right there.

I hear a sound of the door creaking as someone pushes open the door forcibly. I see Security guard walking in.

Your life is over. They know now.

My vision gets blurry from the sides and I pass out.