Friday, October 4, 2013

Dilemma of a Murder

It was a dark night, and I was walking in a lane which didn't have any road lights. Dogs were barking not from far. Though I am quite a coward but there barking were not stirring me at all. My face did not any have any emotions, it was passive and non reactive. To my dismay I remember carrying a knife in my hand. This knife, which was not a normal kitchen knife, was at least 10 inch long. The scene was running like a movie sequence in front of my eyes.

I entered in the house, as if everything was well planned and taught. I took a left to reach the bedroom. It was pitch black. No lights were on, and it was perfect for me kill him. I entered into his room. He was sleeping soundly. He was chuckling as if he was dreaming something nice and funny.  But I was not interested in his dreams.

I was here to kill someone but I did not know the reason. My heart felt hatred and pity together. Courage and fear were fighting to take hold of my mind. I was trembling, but on the other side I was powerful. It was impossible to find the state of my body and mind.

While I was standing there, someone deep inside me asked me to finish the task.

“What is the task?” I asked. Even before completing my question I felt heat on my face as if someone has slapped me hard.

“Kill the man who is sleeping on the bed.” Someone commanded. I wanted to ask “Has he done something wrong?” but I could not as if my mind has lost powers even to speak to itself after the slap.

As if my mind was overpowered, I reached to the bed and raised my hand high enough to strike with maximum power. The knife came down and inserted into the white sheet first, then body and finally stopped at bone. There was a shriek, a shriek which was mix of pain, horror, shock, and dismay. But it didn't impact my intention. With the intentions of finishing the job, I raised my hand again. But in the mean time he turned and now he was facing me. Somehow I was able to see his face.

It was me who was lying on the bed. “What the hell?” I said. “Why do you want to kill me?” My replica said. Even before finishing his sentence he vomited the blood.

I woke up shrieking from my dream. “Oh fuck” I had been dreaming. I put on the lights and see red substance around my bed. It was my blood. My white sheets were blood red now, though there was neither any pain nor any wound. I was not sure what was happening.

Was I still dreaming or awake? Or was I dreaming inside my dream? I was weak, speechless, and clueless.