A tragic tale of murder with a shocking twist

By Maureen Rampertab
ON the way, the cab driver shivered a little at the sudden chill in the car and, noticing the tense silence of the woman and child, he said in casual conversation: “It’s a sad thing, the home you’re going to, the man’s wife died a week ago.”“How did she die?” Priya asked, her voice just above a whisper.
“It is being said she committed suicide.”
“Sad, indeed,” she agreed, her sarcasm like a flame ignited, that burnt low.
The driver looking through the rearview mirror could not see her face clearly through the thin veil of shadow and realising she wasn’t interested in talking, he turned on the radio. A little while later, he turned off the main road, into a street, stopping at the second corner.
“Your stop,” he said turning and saw to his surprise, the child was not in the car.
“Where did she go?” he asked, puzzled.
“She has returned to wait for me.”
“What? How did she if I did not stop anywhere….,” his voice trailed off, confused.
Priya pushed the hair away from her face, the shadows lifting and words died in the driver’s throat as he looked into her cold, haunting eyes; her voice, a hoarse whisper.
“This was my home, I have returned to see my husband.”
She walked slowly up the pathway, turning once to look at the petrified driver, before disappearing.
The house was silent, the curtains half drawn, for death had walked through those doors, six days ago, the guest of a murderer. She went to the bedroom she shared with her husband wondering if there was any changes but it was just the same way, the bed not slept in.
“He won’t change anything now,” she said with conviction, “He will wait until the story fades away and I have become just a memory.”
The pain of her untimely death was not as deep as the betrayal of someone who had been such a close part of her life.
“I gave you my unconditional love, Dev,” she said, softly, words dripping with blood from her aching heart. “How could you open the door for hate to separate us?”
She turned and walked out the bedroom, her spiritual form, feeling laden with grief. A new life had begun for her there, as a young, innocent bride and ended there because of her obedience to family and traditional rules.
“It’s what made me so weak,” she rued, “I should have been stronger and more assertive in channeling my life.”
Her life had been defined by love, compassion and kindness, three priceless words but now, it was lost in the unfeeling force of darkness for her heart had stopped beating.
No blue skies and sunshine, but a raging storm of howling winds and crashing waves, spawned by the anger within her.
“Talk to me now, my love.” She said in a mocking tone, the crash of thunder and crackling lightning in the distance, “Tell me how much you hate me.”
He was in the study with his mother and father, a close knit family who had started to make her feel like a stranger in their home. Now she was gone in death, they were relaxed and happy that the family’s name would not be disgraced through the mud of divorce.
“It was so simple,” the mother was saying, “No one suspected anything.”
“How did you come up with such a clever plan?” Dev questioned, no sadness on his face.
“I overheard her telling a friend she left like killing herself,” the mother revealed, “Because of the stress you were putting her through, so putting the poison in the tea made it look like suicide.”
Dev said nothing for a while and Priya watched him as he battled with his emotions.
“If you truly loved me,” she whispered, “You would speak at least one word for me.”
He turned and looked at the door way, not seeing her but the muscles in his face taunt and he said to his mother and father,
“I don’t feel too happy about this, I hope it goes away soon so I can get on with my life.”
“It will, son.” The mother assured him, “I did this for you.”
He left the room, his words like a crushing iceberg sinking a ship and she closed her eyes at the shocking impact.
“Such heartless minds,” she cried, “I had a family that loves me, and now misses me, inconsolable in their grief. Where was your right to take my life?”
She opened her eyes and followed her husband, the raging storm within her, just one heartbeat away from being unleashed. He was getting ready to go out and she called his name, “Dev.”
He froze for a moment, then slowly looked up and saw her reflection in the mirror. The shock of seeing her ghost and the fear of the cold fury in her eyes, practically paralysed him. He tried to say something but no words came and she screamed, the shrill sound, cracking the mirror on the wardrobe and shattering the Italian chandelier on the ceiling.
“No please!” he pleaded.
“This is just the beginning.” She warned him, and closed the door, locking him in so she could continue her mission against her evil in laws.
The mother and father were watching the news in their own private comforts when a sudden wind blew through the window, howling, knocking over the T.V stand and books flew off the bookstands like crazy.
“Why is this happening?” the mother cried, fear gripping her.
The wind died, just as sudden as it came and coldness filled the room.
Priya stood at the doorway, an illusion of herself and said “Because I’m here.”
Shock and fear, twin demons of the night in dramatic encounters leaving her in-laws gasping in terror.
“Murderers!” she screamed, the piercing sound bouncing off the walls and they fell to the floor, writhing in agony.
She looked at them, disdain in her voice, “Forever in your life, you will remember this night.”
She went back to the bedroom, slamming open the door with such force, it fell off the hinges. Dev was on his knees by the bed, trembling for he had heard the chaos in the study.
“I’m sorry,” he said, without looking up at her, “The tests had shown it was my fault but as a man, I was too proud to accept that.”
She was not in the mood for apologies, her avenging soul consumed by fury and she slammed him against the bed.
“Your selfishness and betrayal were not enough, you had to take my life!”
“Then kill me,” he shouted, “Take your revenge!”
“Death for you!” she shouted with dark menace, “Will be too kind. You will live and suffer for what you did to me.”
She left the house, her mission completed and at the cemetery, she sat with the little girl, her soul, now calm. A hint of a smile, played on her lips as a gold light shone in the distance and she held Anne’s hand.
“Are you ready now?”
The child nodded, smiling, just a little, “My mom is feeling better, she will be going home, today.”
She pointed out to the village, over the trench, a little way, “We live in a little unpainted house, that has a bird bath in the yard.”
The light came closer, it’s soft gleam, touching them and Priya opened her eyes with a gasp. She laid there in a daze for a long moment, not sure where she was, until her mind cleared and she sat up, looking around slowly.
The sun was streaming through the window, she was in her bedroom, her husband not on the bed besides her and the empty tea cup on the bedside table.
She got up slowly and looked at herself in the mirror, almost afraid of the reflection she would see, but she looked the same as a living person.
She sat down on the bed, her heart racing, not quite comprehending what this was about, for it seemed so real.
Yet she was not dead.
It was a bad nightmare.
Such a dream though, could disturb anyone’s mind and for Priya it did.
The haunting questions were, “Are my husband and in laws planning to kill me? Was I given a warning of what is to come? And the little girl, how does she fit into this picture?”
(To be continued….)