Endless Stories – Chapter 1


“Is this an interrogation?
“Is it?
“Well, seated in the middle of an isolated room with a table in front and a light bulb hanging over my head and you watching through the double-sided mirror straight to my face. I see it is an interrogation. Very well. Now that I am here you can ask your questions which I willingly would answer. But on one condition. My answers would be long and cruel, it would take more time than you think it would. But I assure you that all of your questions will be answered. All I ask is your full cooperation and patience. It may be boring but I will make it short as much as I can. If you no longer can bear it I am so sorry I may have to ask you to leave, because I only want people who have time to listen to a poor fellow’s story.

“For your first question, No!

“I did not commit murder or was involved in one. I have never seen anyone die and do not plan to. Neither did I steal anything nor was involved in one. I don’t have an interest in other people’s property except for a thing that I shall explain to you later if you could survive that long. But do not be excited because it is not what you would ever think it could be. I assure you I have not been involved in any of the crimes that most people would be accused of.

“For your second question, I do not know exactly!

“I am here for the same reason as you are here. To know what wrong I did to be sitting here alone and answering all your questions. Ten years back I would have cursed the God, who everyone says created men and them eventually creating me. Having to face such horrible phases of life that I never wanted to. But sitting in this chair looking at my own reflection on the mirror in front of me behind where you are hiding. I no longer complain about anything. Everything happens as it should be. I don’t control everyone’s life, I could control the steering wheel of my life but, eh, last time I checked humans were a social animal and many people have come across my life and I am very sorry to say that I cannot control them even if I could, I would never try. You don’t know how miserable life could be, you may think you know, but you don’t. Think about it honestly. You will know. I don’t intend to bring boredom into our interrogation by including life philosophy I take the time you gifted to me very carefully, so back to your question.

“As I told you before I used to be the same person as you are now, greedy, careless, rude, angry, full of hatred, a money leaded life. I am so sorry to say, that is what most of you are. But don’t worry it will change once you find out why you were created for. I found out, or so I believe. And eventually, it brought me right before you. Therefore I believe it was indeed the purpose of my life. For the answer to your second question I do not have a specific answer. Sorry.

“You may be thinking of leaving. It is starting to get bored. I know. To listen to one man speaking about himself, not even having a clue about what he is saying. It is the best way to get bored. But that is what I do for a living. What? If that is your reaction, you are right at where I want you to be. We are on the same path here. Listening to other people’s lives is the best way you could help others. I do that for my living, right now sitting here before you I have listened to almost one seventy people’s story. Real-life story. Not a bunch of lies served by people who call themselves writers. I literally listen to them, that is all, simple. You just have to place yourselves before them so they could talk to someone you don’t have to say a word. Just listen, that’s it. I don’t say it is the most divine of jobs a person could have, but I say it is the best one I could do. And I am pretty good at it. Still, there were some people who called me a psychopath. There was this one newspaper report that came to my attention. It referred to me as a psychopath who feeds on human emotions. It was a good title, but not a good one who finds a living the way I do. I find that you have several more questions now. I understand, do not worry I have all the time of my life to answer you. If you are willing I could narrate the whole story of my life to you, briefly, I promise. I value your time too. I need a commitment from you that you would listen patiently. If you are ready for that I say we can begin our interrogation. And you could tell me what was the crime I committed.
“So, shall we begin.”

Thank you for reading. Keep on enjoying life. Good day.

The letter of life – A short story

brown paper envelope on table
Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

The new house was far better than the old rabbit hole down the street. this one was well furnished and I didn’t need to buy anything new to make it home. although it was for rent the house already felt like home. one or two friends from work came across to help me with unpacking and arranging everything. it was almost evening when the things were arranged and cleaned. the house was big enough for me, two bedrooms(as I only need one), one kitchen and a living room. there was a small backyard, where I could do my yoga and exercises.

Oh! I have forgotten to introduce me. My name is Shirley and I work at a newspaper company. Not an editor or a journalist. I am more like an assistant type. So back to the story.

My friends left after tea, they had night shifts at work. I was resting in my couch picking up the newspaper going through it and suddenly my doorbell rang. I stood up thinking.

“guests already”

I didn’t have much friends in this new city nor any neighbors nearby. so I felt curious. As I walked to the door the bell rang again. I opened it and saw nobody. then suddenly I saw the letterbox was almost open, I guessed it must be the postman. but there were no posts after 4pm. I know these stuff I work at a newspaper company. then I went to the letterbox and there was a letter. I picked it up and it was not the type of letter you get every day.

The envelope looked old and rugged like the one we see in epic fantasy movies. I walked inside as soon as I ensured there was no one else around. I opened it and the letter was thesame as the envelope, old and suspicious. it said in black and bold letters:

Welcome, my dear”.

the letter was really weird, it was the year 2018 not many wrote letters, nobody has ever written letters to me and not especially calling “my dear”. I thought the letter must be delivered as a mistake. I kept it where I found it but for my surprise, there was another letter, the same envelope, and everything. I opened it to find if there was something else. it said.

” don’t worry, my dear”.

I became really frustrated somebody was seriously pulling a prank on me but who? there was not many who I was close with. In fact,I have been in this city for just 5 weeks. I stood there for some time to find if someone was going to do it again.

nothing happened for an hour or two. I went back to the house, made my dinner and got freshened up. It was past 7 o’clock and the day had been rough and tough along with those anonymous letters I was really tired. so I went to the kitchen to have my dinner. It was good and my body was really impressed with the food and sleep wrapped all over me. For one last time, needed to see if there was another letter. So I went to the door and slowly looked over to the letterbox. I was startled by the view. there was someone at the gates. A black figure, there were no lights so I wasn’t sure if it was a man/a woman. I looked at it, that thing was like staring right at me, even though I could not see its face or literally nothing.

I thought it was my mind playing with me I closed the door and locked it. that night I slept on the couch with my mobile phone in my hand ready to call the police if needed. but nothing happened. And I slept fairly.

It was 7am,  I woke up late. I had to hurry to the office. I didn’t get my breakfast or my tea but I was able to get there on time. the day was fine and comfortable as I had adjusted to its nature. It was almost 6pm when I got out of the office and took a cab to my house. I was really tensed what if I see the man again? but there was nothing, not even a bird. I got out but I really had to check the letterbox. I couldn’t control my urge and pulled open the box and there the letterbox was completely stacked with letters. not leaving a tiny little space for another letter. I was frightened. I didn’t want to open any of the letters but as you can guess I took out one, just one. the envelop and letter was the same as the older ones, but it had a different message:

“I knew the girl who lived here before, she was very dear to me. I want you to be dear to me as well!”

the last sentence felt like a threat. I needed to call the police, but I thought I would wait this evening. If the guy comes and I will be surely calling the police. I went in and tried not to look out.

the night came and I didn’t open the door or looked outside. I watched tv and ate my dinner but before I went to bed I needed to make sure no one was around.  I slowly went to the door, but even before I could open the door, there outside the door I could hear a loud breath like a bear or something. I looked through the window near the door. there a tall man all in black stood he was looking straight to the door. I kept staring at him. then suddenly he knocked on the door.

I, out of fear made a cry and he heard it. he saw me looking through the window. Now he was staring at me through the window. I went searching for the mobile phone and luckily found it before any mess. I called the police and told about the man. Within minutes the police came. but they were not able to find the person. they asked me everything and I told them everything I knew, they showed me a photo of a person old and stout. it was the man I saw outside. they told me who he was.

His name was Hoarn. he once lived in this house along with his wife. he was a drunkard and one day killed his wife. For that, he was sent to prison and after 10 years got out. And came back to this house only to find out the house was sold to another person. A woman who lived here gave permission for him to live in the backyard as he had nowhere else to go, after some time for some reason he killed her too. he was never caught. And now I live here so I could guess what he was up to.

The story was well enough for me to get out of there, and I did after two days. No one came on those days and I moved to an apartment near to my office.

A year later I saw the man again, in the newspaper. He was caught red-handed trying to kill a man who lived there after I moved away. I could only think of the luck I had. After a few months I married a guy near to my apartment and from then I had never lived alone. But I got a letter one day after a long time. But there was a date and an address in it. It was dated on the date when the guy was caught by the police and it was addressed from the state prison. It said:

“Live, my dear”.