The Silhouette

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    When I tilted my head upwards, Neela was not there. “Neela? are you there?” I shouted from where I was standing. I heard nothing except the rain and thunder around me. With hesitation and fear, I went near the door. I saw a shadow on the ground. Someone is standing by the window. I sneaked out of the room. Neela, what are you doing here? Are you alright?  She was holding a knife in her hand. All I could see was the silhouette of my wife. Her hair was loosely tied and wet. She was breathing heavily, tilting her head forty-five degrees left. She slowly came near me. It ain’t Neela. What’s happening here? I stepped backwards for each step she took towards me. My heart was pounding like it was about to come out tearing my chest and breaking my ribs. After a few steps, I eventually reached the wall. Shit! Am I gonna die tonight?

    “Hey? Neela? what the fuck is wrong with you? Put that goddamn knife down.” I shouted.

    She came towards me with a demonic smile on her face. I was frozen, still standing at the same place. Gradually, I heard the voice of the young girl once again. Which I heard on the radio. But, this time, it came from Neela’s mouth. She came closer,  singing the incy wincy spider poem and pointed the knife at my eyeballs.

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