Today

It was a sunny morning like no other; the brilliant blue sky untarnished by clouds, all in all a perfect day for people to throng the streets. But there was no one to be seen, not even a whimper of as much as a footstep. It struck her as rather odd that this small picturesque town would be as quiet. However she could feel eyes watching her behind the windows and behind the doors, as she crossed the empty street. She took her time to find the house; those cobbled streets were all the same and those unwelcome houses all the same. At last, she came to it, and she hesitatingly knocked on the brass knocker, awaiting a response. When none came, she looked around and thought she saw a curtain flutter on the 1st floor window-she knew instantly that they were watching what she would do. She emboldened herself and went around to the back and to her surprise, found the back door ajar. She peeped in and seeing no signs of the inhabitants, pushed it open. It made no sound and she entered to stand in the spotless kitchen, closing the door behind her.  She paused for a minute before opening the other door opposite the one she had just come through, unsure, afraid.  And as she opened the door, things started happening too fast, someone pushed something in her face and she fell to the floor. The last thing she remembered was the sweet sickly smell which rushed up her nose.

When she woke up next, she was lying on a bed in a dimly lit space. The nondescript room, as it whirred to focus, was tiny; with a chest and drawer on the left and two doors, one opposite the bed, one on the right. She could make out a window too over the table beside the chest. They hadn’t tied her, she noticed, but somehow she could not get up so she waited a little to regain her strength. A few minutes later, the door opened and a man stood in the doorway, framed by the light of the corridor outside. She could not see his face clearly but from his shoulders and hands and from the way he stood, she knew it was him. He drew a chair from the corner and came to sit by her. And then she saw it clearly, the tiny scar above the right cheek-bone which never failed to remind her of her guilt. She cringed a little as he touched her neck to check her pulse. Satisfied that it was healthy, he motioned for her to sit up. She did as she was told, albeit slowly and with great effort. He made no motion to help her, watching with hands folded across his chest. When she was sitting facing him, he looked at her with his piercing black eyes, full of questions. She could not help but staring at him for she had no answer to them.  They stared at each other for some time, lost in the memories which flooded back, until they turned painful and she could look no more. He sought her hand and held it. She looked at him with an anguished gaze and eyes glazed with tears and said-“I can’t run anymore.” He nodded, he knew already. He pulled her closer as she wept.