Wednesday, January 24, 2018
STORY TELLING

BUT HOW?

She stood on her balcony. The moonlight fell on her tracing her figure, highlighting the drops of sweat on her face. It was 12:01 am and she couldn’t get any sleep.

***

(The morning before)

Come on aspen quickly, Jack is ready see? “Yea I’m coming!” she started the car and her children hopped in and with the start of the engine, they were gone. She dropped them to school and kissed them on the head. Her eyes followed them running to school.

***

(A few hours later)

She was getting ready to pick them up. The phone rings.

***

How? How? How? Was all she thought. How? She told them never to get into a car with a stranger. She entered the school and was greeted by the police. “I’m sorry ma’am, we’re doing everything we can. We have found the vehicle, please sit tight.” These words meant nothing, they bounced back and echoed as they fell. She walked away and she thought: ‘I lost my husband, I have lost my children. I have lost this battle’. She walked across the ground and sat on the swing. The sun was setting and thin rays of the golden light fell through the spaces between the trees. She saw her children. They were playing. They looked so happy. She gazed at them for a while and then took them home. She made them dinner and tucked them into bed.

***

She woke up and went to their room. The beds were neatly made, pillows fluffed, and empty. The phone rang.

***

She saw their bodies lying in the trunk of the car. They looked as though they were in peace.  It was like they were asleep, that they’d wake up any minute now and run into her arms. A tear escaped her eye. She said nothing.

***

(Now)

She was holding a picture of the four of them. She swallowed the pills and held the picture close to herself, lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.

***

Ishani Khemka

Student-Reporter

January-2017