I woke up in my own room. It had the same smell which was present when I left it. It
was eight in the morning and I heard noises in the kitchen. I knew it was mom as her
humming was quite loud. I wondered how I ended up here. Last I remember I was in
Mark's arms. A brim remembrance of him kissing my forehead crossed my mind.
Then the whole mayhem of the previous night flashed inside my head. I didn't get time to refresh when I heard a knock at the door. I told my mother to come in. My mom walked inside in the swish and slender way she always does every time and settled on the edge of the bed. This time she had a frown on her face.
"You alright, sweetie?" she asked in a merely low tone.
"Yeah, why?"
"The school called. They said you were bunking a lot."
A gulp reached down my throat. Darn it. Before I could explain anything, she burst out again,
"Well, what's going on?"
I was dumbstruck for a couple of minutes and then the only thing which struck me was,
"I am dating someone."
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Surprisingly she took it in a casual way. Although her expression were of shock and
awkward as we never shared much of anything with each other, she smiled faintly,
partially hugged me and asked,
"Who is the lucky guy?"
I admit this made me red. I appreciated the casualness of her at such a delicate topic but I didn't expect her to be this friendly. We only shared a thin thread of bond which
seemed to thicken now. I gathered some courage to say,
"Mark. Mark Hannigal. The guy who lives at the end of the alley."
"Oh, he just came by to drop you last night. Nice guy."
So it was Mark who displaced me to my bed. As I was looking down, my mother kept
on staring at me. It was the first-time we were having a conversation of this sort. Pamela Carter, my mother; strong, brave and optimistic in every sense and situation. I adored her. But teenage to bad phase to be near your mother.
"I hope you know what you are doing." She said as she kissed me on the forehead and told me to get ready for school. I nodded and forced a smile just to let her presume I was fine.
I was not.
Recently, I saw coffins (un-buried) in my boyfriend's house and my wounds just
disappear with the wind. My ring was a duplicate of some ancient heiress and I got it
just after the original one was stolen. From a normal hipster life, my life has become a magnet of thrills.
I wondered what else was waiting for me.
I got up from my bed and changed into my casual denim. And then I realized
something uncanny. And then I realized something uncanny in my hands.
The ruby ring was not there in my finger. Adrenaline pushed itself out and panic fused inside me in abundance. I knew I was in trouble. A grave one indeed.