The Shadow | #FictionMonday

This Flash Fiction was written for #FictionMonday, a blog hop hosted by Vinitha Dileep on her blog, ‘Reflections‘ based on the word prompt ‘SHADOW’.

The Shadow

“Those footsteps”—Myna sits up with a jolt. She was never scared of darkness, earlier. But, now things are different. 

Ever since her world has turned topsy turvy after the Virus took away her mom, Myna came to live with her aunt and uncle, in the city. The move was sudden, and Myna had no inkling what lay in store for her in the coming days. She settled into her new life, and soon enough, things started changing in ways that she could not fathom very well.

And then, a few weeks back, something strange started happening to Myna. The aunt has been perplexed, the little cousin looks baffled by her sudden silence. In fact, she no longer responds to people around her. When she does, it is usually in monosyllables. 

For Myna, the world has suddenly turned into a horrifying reality. It’s not the unknown that terrifies her—it’s the known devil…the shadow in the dark that knocks the life out of her, every night!

“He’ll be here any minute”—says Myna, to herself, as the footsteps grow louder. 

The door swings open, rather swiftly. He stands by the entrance, with his one eye covered, fixing his gaze on her, as if she were a prey. Her limbs start shaking. She tries in vain to calm her rapidly beating heart. As he steps in closer, a pungent smell of alcohol spreads across the room.

Her body now arches into a semi-circle, as she pulls her skirt over her knee, covering both her legs with her arms, round, like a ball. By now, her palms start feeling clammy. The throat tightens.

Turning her gaze away from him, she lowers her eyes; her little frame still shaking, as is she has just committed a heinous crime. 

He looms over her bed, his shadow falling over her petite frame, almost like a shroud. Just as he forces himself to pin her against the wall behind, she lets out a wail, before he leaps in to muffle her moans—

“No, please noooooooo… please, noooooo…….uncle…pleeeaaaaaase….!” 

She dies a million times over, drenched in pain, soaking in her own tears, sapped off the strength to lift herself. Deep down though, Myna knows that she will survive this too and she must live to tell her tale. 

Like a phoenix, she shall arise and nothing in the world—not even a million muffled moans, will stifle her anymore.

 

*********


7 thoughts

  1. If you’d ever consider submitting some of your work for publication, Dixie State University has an online literary journal and is currently open for submissions.

    You can check us out at https://www.r7review.com/. The deadline to submit this year is November 6th.

    We are in need of fiction and nonfiction submissions. We also accept memoirs, audio recordings, visual art, book reviews, multimedia (video/audio), photography, etc.

    1. Thank you for your message, Rachel. I’d love to contribute some of my writings. Just want to check if they have to be original pieces of work or is it okay to send in stuff that have been published on my blog earlier.
      Meanwhile, I’m checking out the details of your website and getting my pieces ready for despatch.
      Cheers,
      Esha

      1. Okay. I might still have a few original pieces in my folders. Will send them before the deadline is over.
        Thank you for clarifying.

  2. Oh dear! This is heartbreaking, Esha. I wish people weren’t this bad! I wish little kids were left alone! This story is breaking my heart into little pieces, Esha.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.