The freakish yell was back. A fortnight ago I thought I had finally
dealt with the ghastly howls that I was fantasizing in the lull of the night
but I was wrong. Faint yet tormenting, they were back for real. No more
sleepless nights, I decided, and stepped into the backyard of my house with a
torch to find out the source of disturbance. A solitary pebbled road was lying
ahead of me, flanked by sparse forests extending till the end of sight. Fortunately, the moon was there, not full though, somewhat enlightening the panorama which
probably held the secret of those distressing yells.
A chill ran through my spine as I began walking, guided by
the torch light. The chatter of the breeze and the pebbles, which otherwise had
sounded delightful, were as creepy as the howls were. Wandering through the
forest a good deal of time elapsed and many a time I glided away from the yells, but finally I found the very trail that led me to the vista that was even more
unnerving.
Leaning to a eucalyptus tree, a young girl was sitting on the
ground howling like she had lost something dearer than life. Following seconds
of contemplation, I directed the torch light to her face and she turned around. Beautiful
she was, but wounded. Her dress was almost fully drenched in blood but even her
swollen eyes and scarred face couldn't defy her resplendence. Being a daredevil,
as I call myself, I approached her and put up the obvious queries.
Sobbing profusely she replied “I was killed by my lover to whom I had given
the whole of me. His love instilled life in me and I blossomed like never
before. I wished to live for his joy; I loved being the reason of his smile. But
he murdered me even though he loved me ardently. He wished to silence me
forever but my heart oozes a never ending fountain of pain, every drop of which
desperately wants to reach out to him.”
A little empathy that had emerged in my heart at the sight
of the wounded girl vanished in a moment. She was expecting me to believe in a
creepy supernatural tale in which she portrayed herself as a miserable spirit
who wanted her lover to feel the guilt of murdering her. Annoyed, I warned her
to stop her tragic play every night or I would be forced to complain to the
authorities. Over the next few days I heard the same howls, however
occasionally, but strangely never for once I could make up my mind to file a
complaint against her. I strongly disbelieved her story but her innocent eyes,
etched in my mind, had somehow shackled me.
The very next month I got transferred to a new place and after a few weeks the incident was nowhere in my conscious. A decade elapsed during
which I barely had the time to rest or reflect over the happenings of my life. I
worked too hard, had a loving family and a lavish lifestyle. I was a successful
professional, everybody said so.
Life was right on the track until the night that once again
marked the beginning of eerie episodes that haunted me a decade ago. But this
time the howls were accompanied by distressing symphonies that were tearing my
mind apart. Loud, aggressive and hysteric symphonies that wanted to paralyse me
or suck the life out of me. Symphonies at night and an uncanny regret in the
days were constantly tormenting me. I was drained but finally decided to muster
up courage once again and find out my offender.
One dark night, when the moon was obscured by clouds, I followed another solitary trail. Restlessness overpowered me but
finally I managed to find the way on which, with each step, I felt getting
closer to those howls and hysteric symphonies. My walk ended up at a vista
where I felt unnerved just like the night a decade ago. It was her, the same
wounded girl, standing beside a tree and holding a guitar. My guitar it was;
old, covered with dust and cobwebs, with torn strings. That night I couldn't utter a single
word and unlike the previous night I was scared because this time she had found
what I had loved but murdered years ago.
