I died...in the hands of me.
Everything faded away. Immediately I opened my eyes, I was on my sofa, sitting in a deep thought. I had a long rope around my shoulder, a monkey cap beside me and a knife along with a cigarette box in my pocket. I also had a big black bag beside me on sofa. Behind, the main door is open, and a person was standing behind me. My house, had a shoe case, but came from a trash, not made of African Black Wood, and it is not filled with many shoes, instead it had only a few of different sizes. I had a gramophone, not a physical one but an image on the wall. And the name ULED is something I have written on my T.V as I wrote Bentley on my sofa. No kitchen utensil is made of gold, but yeah, they shine gold in colour because they were coated so...
I was never rich as I've said before. And everything happened before, was just my imagination. And that imagination is not something your average human experience, but rather a more realistic one, because I get immersed in it. It is because, I'm suffering with psudomanophilia.
Psudomanophilia is a disease where a person, on thinking about something in other person's perspective, will start to imagine getting himself immersed in that other person's role. If I think about you about a situation, then I will imagine me in your place. So, what I did, and told you till now is something that I imagined in another person's place. And the other person is no other than Saniya. And the psycho killer was me!!! Yes, I'm a thief, and I'm planning to rob the G.K Palace.
So, that was when, the man behind me, from dark, pushed his right hand so hard towards my head, that after it hit I felt that my skull got a crack opening. He started to shout over me and asked where we are planning to held the robbery ceremony that day. He is my brother Govind, and my friend in crime. I said, that we are going to breakthrough the G.K Palace.
The wrinkles formed on his cheek due to smile suddenly went down along with his lips, his eyebrows which were on equal suddenly formed a V shape, and this time again, his right hand was on my face, and my left cheek turned left, alarming me pain. I got slapped, and a very hard one. He said me to forget about that house and stop thinking about robbery at that palace.
My brother always used to avoid discussion about three things, one my family, the next one is about what he does on Friday evenings, and finally about G.K palace. He only reminds me that our what our father was, but never ever mentioned about our mom. But one thing was sure, that when we talk about the palace, he absolutely say at least one word about our father. Our father used to work at military, that too as a general, and we as his kids are thieves...