I look down and am reminded of how all this started; and how long have i struggled for this life, about all those compromises i made and those friends that left me when i needed them the most and coming back now trying to renew the contacts.
How much glory can change the world inside and outside you ?
I sip my coffee and gaze at the city lights; something that i had always dreamed to do in exactly this same manner.
The doorbell rings. I sigh and move to open the door.People always interrupt you when you are living the best of your dreams.
I open the door and there he stands; my haunting past. He looks quite the same to me, just a little older. His face still looks as dejected as it was on the day my first novel was published a seven years ago, when we met for the last time.
“You ! What are you doing here ?” I mutter.
He enters and gives me that evil, ‘i am up to something’ smile, the thing i fear the most.
“Were you expecting someone else ?” He asks.
“No. But not you, either.” He grabs a chair and sits down.
“This place is big! You’re living the lifestyle you always dreamed of living, i suppose.”
“I tried to read a novel or two of yours. They were terrible. I don’t understand why people call you the best selling author.”
He sighs and gets up to search something in the refrigerator. He takes an apple and takes a bite out of it and sits again.
“Why are you here ? You have no reason for being here after that evening.Why are you here and what do you want ?” I finally manage to ask.
“You wrote so many novels. How come you never wrote anything about me ?”
“I’d rather spill my coffee on myself than write about you, because that would burn less.”
He stand up and a frown appears on his face.
” You feel burnt ? You feel pained ? Seven years, Girl ! Not even a phone call, no apologies. nothing ! After all you did to me ?”
“I told you not to fall in love with me. And why should i have apologized, for chasing my dreams ? Dreams matter to me more. In fact, they are the only reason for my existence.”
“But i loved you ?”
“You wouldn’t have asked me to chose between me and my dreams if you really loved me.” I stammered.
He looked at me and stepped backwards.
He takes a gun out of his pocket and points it towards me.
We’re again in the same ugly middle position as we were a few years back. It’s again up to me to chose between a life worth dying and a death worth living.
“So, what do you chose this time ?” He asks.
I smile. When you are a writer, the worst thing a person can do to bring you down is kill you, but this only brings out their vulnerability as human beings.
I close my eyes and apologize to all those characters i created.
“Just shoot me down.That’d be the best of all.”
He presses the trigger and the next moment, i’m lying on the ground.
He looks at me and then at the gun.
Sometimes it’s not up to us to let the past haunt us or not; but we can always fight back.
Tears fall from my eyes as he drops the gun and runs backwards. This might be the end.
Down in the abbey, someone screams and something breaks.
I close my eyes .