Missing you

Rohan and Alya have been in love for more years than he cares to remember, but then suddenly she stops calling him. The last call from her had ended in her shrieking desperately for him.


3. Chapter 3


It had been almost a month since I spoke with Maggie. None of my calls had been returned. No texts, no surprise visits. Almost as if she vanished from the face of the Earth. I had become a recluse once again, only leaving my room occasionally for some food. My appetite was non-existent, I only eat for survival.

I look like a mess, my eyes burn due to lack of sleep and dark circles have formed beneath them making them look as hollow as they feel. My hands sustain more and more cuts every day. The physical pain blocked the one in my heart at least for a few minutes. It gave me a respite from the endless abyss that my life has become.

Suddenly my phone came to life and its music filled my dark room and life. Without even bothering to check the caller ID, I attend the call. It has got to be Alya. Finally after all these torturous weeks I can hear her voice again.

“Hello… Alya?” I asked, suddenly feeling unsure of what to say.

“Rohan, it’s me, Vishal. Please don’t tell me you are still pinning after Alya. She will not come back, no matter how hard you try. You have got to forget the past and embrace the future mate. It’s time you came back to the living. You still have your friends.” I heard his words. He tried to be soothing, but I only burned more at hearing them. They gave no solace.

“NO! I’LL NOT FORGET HER, NOR SHALL I LET HER GO. I PROMISED HER I’D NEVER LET HER GO!” I screamed at him, seeking the little satisfaction from hurting him.

“She is not coming back bro. She cannot come back even if she wishes it. She is dead, but you’re still alive.” At this he cut the call. He did not understand. No one could. She did not die. She would not leave me like that.

If she is dead to this world, then the world does not have any use for me either.

I take a look at the mirror in my room; now reflecting a thousand pieces of me, holding a piece of broken glass. The mirror showed that my hands bled, but I felt no pain; only excitement coursed through me as I lifted it to my neck and slashed myself. I would meet my Alya again.

For a moment pain held my body in its grasp, and an ungodly shriek erupted from my throat. But in that one moment, the mirrors reflected her wondrous face. Then as I reached out my hand, I see the door ajar and the weeping form of my mother running towards me reflected. I've not been a good son to her; that was my last thought before the blackness pulled me in.

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