Kumar was sweating profusely within the confines of his dingy cell. He had woken up to someone throttling his neck. The nightmare had felt real.
“You deserve it!“, hissed a soft feminine voice behind him.
He reeled around looking for the source of the voice, wondering if he was alone in his jail cell.
“I think, I am loosing my mind”, he mumbled.
He pondered about the situation that had got him into this conundrum. He worried about the effects it would have on the fragile lives of his family which lived just above the poverty line. Would they be declared as outcasts in their tiny village? How would they support themselves? He wondered if anybody would employ the kin of a prospective murderer?
“Not prospective…an actual murderer!”, said the voice and this time it sounded angry. The tiny 60 watt bulb hanging from the dark ceiling flickered.
“Who are you? Show yourself…please”, cried Kumar as the bulb died out.
As he crouched into the corner of the walls, he saw her emerge from the darkness. A vision in white, just as beautiful as the day he had first laid eyes on her.
“But…but, you are dead!”, he screamed.
“And how is that possible?”, she teased.
“Because I left you there… cold and lifeless!”
“You have made it clear to the police and everyone around that you are not involved in any way“, she chimed in her sweet voice.
“I am sorry…please forgive me”, he pleaded as two hands closed in around his neck.
The pot of water lying in the corner of the room shattered to pieces as the light came back on. She was gone. As Kumar tried to fight the hands off, he eyes widened in shock to discover that they were his own.
“Not possible, you wouldn’t do this…”, he thought
“But you changed me“, chimed the sweet voice again. “The day you throttled me because your fragile ego couldn’t handle rejection from a woman. This is how I felt when the air to my soul was cut off…when my soul turned dark“
His final vision was that of the bright, orange, flickering hot flames of hell that engulfed his soul, dragging it into the depths of a dark world where it would be destined to roam hungry, thirsty and condemned forever.
Note: Dedicated to the souls of women whose lives are cut short due to acts of violence. To those who never got the justice they deserved. To those who never had their stories heard. May your souls rest in peace.
Today’s prompt: Fragile Lives