Infamous witness #6

#2 Muses - Lost and found

You cannot lead a life without blemishes but some are so dark that you cannot lead a life with them. Partly because you are judged by your blemishes and expected to be without them. Can you sever all your ties most importantly with your clouded jugdement to be safe?

He did not know that nor did he care anymore. Now the milk was spilt and he was already caught so what was the point of worrying pointlessly. Finally he got up after hours from the ground.The rug was a little wet from the tears that flowed from his eyes. The same rug that they bought together from her first paycheck. The door bell rang sharply, it had to be the milk man or the newspaper. He opened the door it was the police. The showed his ID, held handcuffs in other and said,'Sir you are under arrest for illegal dealings. You have the right to remain silent.'
Everything he knew at that moment fell apart. He betrayed and was betrayed.
Just opposite to his home which he was leaving with the police was a window of another home in the building opposite to it. A slim man in his forties with spiky white hair stood there. He picked up his phone and called. A lady spoke, 'I was dead worried. I don't pay you for incomplete work. This time if there is even speck of trouble in the plan you know what will happen.' He replied,' Ma'm everything went as per the plan. He soon will be prosecuted I talked to the lawyers that he would be assigned. He has no other way apart from legal aid.' The phone was cut as soon as he completed his sentence. He thought to himself as he saw the empty house from his window and trails of the police car's wheel. 'He was trapped in the karma except that he was trapped in the karma created by me. Right now I am the god of his fate.' He smirked at the memory that just popped in head and pulled down the curtains.
The young man was about receive the darkest bleamish and the old man could not move on from his darkest bleamish. Time stopped for none and will continue to not stop for anyone to become bleamishless.

To be continued...

This will be followed by 'severance and solitude'.

Infamous witness #5

One day when I lose everything, I'd know that I'm the one to blame. Not because I didnt protect them but because I cared alot about them.

Nothing but those small bits of smiles, laughs and happiness. And this has been the moral of the story ever since I ceased being the Infamous witness. Yes, for the first time I am scared to face the storm and be the part of the wreck after all I was just someone who saw it from distance. A part of me is very selfish, I can never stand losing everything I would rather let everything lose me. I say that I care but the reality is everything gets destroyed eventually and what I cannot do precisely is to see the sufferings and everything in shambles. Its like chossing between the devil and the deep sea. I cannot live seeing them in shambles or live in shambles. Either way it would be the end of what I am living now. It will happen the way it always has been happening but what matters is the place I stand in.
It has been too long, I have been witnessing enough storms so this time all I wish is no one and nothing but me to be the wreck. That's the risk I am willing to take for everything that I became attacted to and everything that pulled me from my hiding on to the stage.
That is all that matters.

Infamous witness #4

Revenge, Passion, Betrayal

How does it feel to be a protagonist to Sidney Sheldon's novel? I wanted to ask the people who were now so deeply weaved into their emotions that those patterns of their longings seemed far away from what they are. All I can feel is Revenge, Passion and Betrayal in the air. Now passion was one thing in common for all of them and that too for each other. But where there is passion why must there be the existence of that ruthless tyrant betrayal? Yes, it was there because their best kept secrets were not only the secrets but also the emotions that surfaced every now and then. Closure, solitude and affection were their need that they hid. Of course these little bits of need of her closure, his solitude and her affection were tied to their own stories. These were all the now the new normal. Her tears that soaked the white linen of her bed, his shouts that cracked the walls of sanity in his head and her need for someone who is long gone were all the “Normal”. And then I was given a chance to be a part of their stories. After all these years of just watching by the side and seeing them, I wanted to be a part of what they were going through. I thought it would be better to feel than not to feel anything at all. It was tempting but it came through the wrong way. It was the worst way possible for it to come. So I threw it away and painfully knowing I would regret it lifelong. And the comforting thought was:
“I sure am the Infamous witness refusing to be a part of what I see and that’s what it’s destined to be. Without my story in it because it was Revenge, passion and betrayal, there was no place for healing.”
Only if did not have my own story to weave.

"This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental."

Infamous witness #3

Muses- lost and found

She was trying hard to concentrate on the sounds but the throbbing pain in her chest was really distracting. A part of her wished that she never turned back to open the door. Her ego was stronger than steel, she would not let herself spill a tear. The voices of betrayal were peeling away her sanity, scrapping away what was left of it. When she heard what she had to she left without a sign. Others kept wondering that where she disappeared. She did not run away nor did cry the pain away. She was betrayed and she knew nothing was left for her anymore. If anything was it was going to be destroyed because the one person she trusted the most betrayed her. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face pale when I entered our room. I wanted to ask about her leaving early without telling anyone but her face and the room revealed everything. She brushed past me spilling some evidence of my betrayal. I chose to pick them up instead of stopping her because I know she wouldn't want to. The room had become suddenly very empty and silent. I never knew how she found out nor wanted to but I knew what she felt. On the desk I saw a piece of paper and written on it was her incomplete poem. Her poem was written about her wait for spring. Behind the page she wrote:

”This poem dies before it was born

for this poet’s muse is gone”

And this explained everything. It was not just the poem that died but more than that. Her muse died and things that die don’t come back. She will try hard to live, in the grief of the death until she finds her new one, Her New muse. Indeed her wait for the spring. A tear dropped from my eye on the paper and my legs gave up. I sat on the floor and held the paper for rest of the night.


(To be cont..)