Friday, March 23

All about last night

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A fictional story.

Woah. It seems like I was on a Ferris wheel.

My head is spinning like a beyblade; and all I can remember about last night was me walking hurriedly to catch up a train.

Yet, here I am – alone in an apartment. What exactly happened last night?

Should I shout for help?

“Anyone there? How did I come here? Hello?”

I shouted a thousand times  but no one responded. Last night seems so blurred in my memories. In fact, I am finding it very difficult to figure out anything.

I am pretty sure I have a wife. But for some strange reason, I just can’t remember her name. She isn’t here by the way. This has never happened with me. Have I ever blacked out after series of vodka shots? Yes. But the strangest thing is I’ve not touched a drop of alcohol for months. My doctor’s warnings about my liver problems were enough to fend me from the addiction.

I searched for my mobile and it was not there. No laptops and tablets either.

I guess someone certainly didn’t want me to have any access to the outside world. But why and how? I just can’t remember.

Maybe, I was kidnapped last night. That makes sense. Maybe someone put some sleeping drug in the takeaway coffee and captured me. But joke’s on them – I am pretty sure even they had more money in their pockets than me.

I am a 25-year-old jobless *something after all. What’s with the ‘something’? Why can’t I remember anything! I’m pretty sure I wasn’t a doctor, though. The wound right besides my arm still excruciates me.

Enough of talking. I need to find the inner Sherlock in me now. Who needs Watson anyway?

There was a time when I really loved the Holmes books. Profiling people was the best fun-time ever; all I lacked was the charisma and tenacity to really pull it off. But who knew five years and a missing day later, I will finally need it.

(Jack surfs around the house, to look for some clues.)

I’m deeply wrapped with clothes, and for some reason, I can’t take off the gloves in my hands either. Some one really wanted to strangle me, or maybe, cared about me too much. It’s either a kidnapper or a stalker. I’m not sure I feel good about either of them.

For some reason, my legs don’t support me like it used to. Maybe it was that thing they put on my takeaway coffee. The first thing I will do after I feel well is sue the company. Wait, maybe I am a lawyer.

Coming to suing, there’s nothing around that really hints about anything. Perhaps, there’s something on the kitchen? It smells good. Someone was here just a few hours ago, for sure.

But why leave me unrestrained? I could easily leave right now if it weren’t for my weakness.

But maybe it was their plan all along. I bet they’re watching from a CCTV camera somewhere, enjoying me struggle to put any thoughts.

People are so feeble these days. They’d do anything for fun. They have even left a knife in the drawer. These kidnappers aren’t well trained to do their jobs, for sure. But, boy, their cooking smells delicious. They have cooked my favorite – Baked Rigatoni with Beef and it smells so familiar.

Is this actually for me? Damn, I nearly fell into their trap. It’s cocaine in the coffee all over again. They are probably trying to fool me once again.

some noise at the door

Time for some action! Someone’s here.¬† It’s time to take some vengeance. I need to grab something.

grabs a strainer

a woman walks in, looks at me with disbelief and gasps: “Jack”

It felt like almost an hour before she completed a word.

“Yes. That’s my name, kidnapper. Who are you?”, I say. Little cunningly, and also little questionably. I just didn’t want to show I was a little scared.

“How. Wake”, she puts phrases I can’t understand yet again.

That’s when someone else entered the room.

“Mom, why are you standing here”, a beautiful blonde teenager tells before she meets her eyes with mine. That’s when she suddenly can’t speak too.

“Mom. He” – I won’t lie. I feel like I have a superpower or something.

If someone really wanted to give me powers, at least give me a meaningful one. “So my powers work on everyone.”, I just attempt to lit up the room.

They didn’t listen. Or the joke wasn’t good enough. But, it seems like something is bothering them. I need to find the answer. They are crying, looking at me as if I am an alien.

The little girl then comes to me, hugs me, says she has always wanted to talk with me.

Okay. I always knew I was a good listener. But I tell to myself – even with the sweetness pouring from the little girl, the kidnapping was a tad unnecessary.

“Okay. I will be straight forward here. I don’t know who the two of you are. But, I don’t know what happened last night. I was just running at my normal pace to catch up a train, but something happened and I can’t remember it. Strangely, I can’t figure out where I am but I know my wife is worried about me. Please help me call her.”

The tears drop out of the lady’s eyes even more. The daughter joins her too.

That’s when she drops the biggest bombshell.

“Jack, this is your daughter, Emma. I’m your wife. It wasn’t yesterday. That happened 17 years ago.”

To be continued…


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Pouring my heart into words somewhere in a corner.

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