Terror of Solitude

Arzoo was all alone for a weekend in hostel,room no.64-B. Her room-mates,Farah and Zarah had gone to their homeplaces. She was the type of child who never slept without her siblings in her home. Find

Prologue:

The silence is so profound that i can really feel my blood dripping through the jugular vein..tip,tip,tip. What else can i do other than writing and keeping myself busy? I was a child who never used to sleep alone in a bed at home; i used to sleep with any of my siblings. And now i have to pass whole weekend alone in this room, room no. 64-B, at the corner of wing A of Zeb Hostel. I know it may seem nothing to anyone as i am eighteen now, an adult officially, who had got NIC,National Identity Card,few days ago. But fear has nothing to do with age.

My room-mates,Zarah and Farah,have gone to Karachi,our homeplace. It wasn't their fault that my mom has gone to Lahore to attend my cousin's wedding ceremony and their would have been nobody to pick and drop me if i had gone to Karachi. Zarah is my bosom buddy. She have probably stayedbut she couldn't  due to some home affairs that were needed to handle down. I am enraged at my uncle because he could have picked and dropped me. But he didn't, everyone is self-serving these days. I am growing seeds of hatred for everyone because nobody could understand how i am feeling being just left alone in a room for whole weekend. And when there are just walls to talk with, nobody to share a cup of hot coffee with you, nobody to make you laugh and nobody to see that i have a cross to bear which is making me heartsick. 

Maybe some people are worth being alone for and i am one of them. 

Chapter no. 01

I arrived at hostel from university at 1:00 PM. I called the cleaning lady to cleam sweep my room. It was mucky so i kept scouring furniture and utensils alongwith her.

It was now 2:00 PM and my stomach was starving for food badly. I decamped to the mess and was very disappointed to see that my favourite dishes were finished. Anyways i bought Matar Plao(Peas ans rice),one of the Pakistani grubs and made my way back to the room.

The solitude had started doing its work; it started to eat me. I never liked eating meal solo; I always wanted company. I didn't know what would be my next move after lunch. Routines are for families, a group of friends or a couple, I whispered inside my heart. I didn't miss anyone, such people are not worth missing for: i didn't want to make myself feel worthless by entailing them in my life. I knew i didn't like socializing but i also never wanted to be left like a single star while all other stars were busy in making constellations. Thinking a web of 'left-like' i plundged slowly into the galaxy of dreams.

..

It was 6:30 PM when i woke up in evening. It made me distressing that no one was there to wake me up and i had missed my Asar Prayer. I ran into washroom and performed ablution and prepared myself for Maghrib Prayer. While doing all this i remembered a vague dream: a whisper from someone's lips roared in my subconcious. I wanted to go in my subconcious until i was too tired to come back in my concious. All i wanted was deep slumber and pass this weekend as soon as possible.

"The more i see the world the more i am dissatisfied with it."

I reminded myself the quote of Jane Austen. Brooding this i stood on the prayer mat and performed Maghrib Prayer. I wanted to meet Allah as soon as possible after dying: i was pissed off by faux glamour of this temporary world. Tears ran down my pale cheeks and it was comforting to know that there was no one around to hide tears from. This was the first tidal prospect i discovered about solitude. I didn't even know how to express my web of emotion before The Almighty God.

"He knows what is in every heart." 

[Surah Al Mulk 67:13]

The sudden though verse from the Quran contended me. People who drink a lot of coffee finf it more difficult to identify and describe their emotions, i read this uberfact few days ago. How terribble feeling it was to prepare a solitary cup of coffee, i thought while switching on electric kettle.

Your face like a web-week end, the mirror image of me reflected to me. I felt downhearted without knowing why like i had lost something very precious but forgot. Maybe i had lost the old me or maybe i had lost affection for Zarah this weekend. She wasn't bad,it was i; i whispered a fervant sorry in my heart. My mind was drowning me.

You die in the middle of your life,

You die in the middle of a sentence.

I reminded myself the dialogue from 'The fault in our stars'. My thoughts were yelling at me. Nobody could hanle even a half of my brain.

I switched on my Dell laptop and listened to the saved lyrics:

You think I'm crazy,

But I'm not.

When I close my eyes,

The lights go off.

"I was listening to music, i shouldn't", I muttered to myself. I switched it off and made a dark home of mine inside blanket.

"Goodnight", I whispered to myself and slept in the arms of solitude.

Chapter no.02

One of my peepers opened gingerly but i saw nothing other than a cupboard which was right in front of my bed. Fear pierced my chest dermis to heart and my trembling left hand creeped under pillow. I switched on my cell phone to see the time: it was the witching hour. I could see a silver moon through casement. It was as lonesome as i was. My whole body was aching but i couldn't help myself to close eyes. They were wide open just to encounter fear of an unknown being. The feel of an infinite silence made me remember quote of an unknown:

"You spend your whole life going to top only to realize that death puts you six feet under"

I liked star gazing much. The view of numerous stars from the square of window was irie but at them time i couldn't focus on anything other than terror of terror.

Next time i roused it was 5:00 PM. My feet were as cold as ice. I brought little fingers of my both hands near face and fixed them into ear holes and try as i would i listened to the sound of silence:

Huuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhuhhhh

Immediately i moved my fingers away because no one can listen that spine chilling sound. 

Promptly, there was a rat-tat at the door. My heart sank and  body juddered as a whole. After a while, there were many small knocksthat seem to be coming from lower part of the door. I moved away duvet and took few footsteps nigh door. As i  gripped doorknob i felt shear waves of fear passing superficially  causing goosebumps. Closing my peepers, i opened it leisurely. 

What i saw?

A cat. 

Ugh! "Stupid of me", I muttered to myself.

Chapter no.03

It was sunup and sunbeams dispersed in room as i opened my eyes. I opened cupboard, grabbed frock and legging and made my way to restroom for a cold bath. The vague impression of a spine-tingling night knocked my cerebrum. I was de-stressed to have a brainwave that Farah and Zarah are arriving after Sunday high noon; they informed before leaving. 'The big annoyance was the coming Saturday night', I murmered. I wrapped my long raven hair in a towel and came out. Exercising my hair by com i read text notification on cell phone:

Zarah: Hey,

           Good Morning! Did you sleep good?

Me:     Good Afternoon now! Yes i had, don't worry.

            (I wanted to show her i am strong. The trouble was that                     people simple punch you over and over again at your fragile              points after knowing the frequency at which you hurt.) 

Zarah: Oh! I miss you so much Arzoo.

Me:      I miss you too. How you doing?

            (I shouldn't miss her because she couldn't see what i am keeping behind words.)

Zarah:  I am good. You know there is a big suprise. Squee! Guess what?

Me    :  You are practising driving?

Zarah:  No. I got a book yesterday: The Fault in Our Stars!

Me    :  Thats nice. Waiting for you. Much!

It was 3:00 A.M then and mess was already occupied by my unfavourite dishes. I thought of making a cake. I scanned refrigerator and found only dates (as a fruit) so i couldn't make a gateau. I mashed the ingredients and baked a cake. I took a piece of it; it was sugarless just like my joyless and lorn life. I tried to make a sugar creme and scattered it on cake but it all ended in vain.

'The spongy body of cake can't be made sugary by adding flavours.', I thought to myself.

Chapter no.04

I lay on bed and began pencilling on my chocolate coloured notepad. I wrote random numbers on different sections of paper and ordered myself to connect the dots. 'It is impossible, i couldn't', i thought. 'Likewise it is non-viable to connect fear rays emitted by cowards' heart because fear can't be ended up in mutualism', someone spoke inside me.

I began making coffee. Coffee was my morning as well as vestpertide fuel. I liked soothing aroma of its steam. With a cup of coffe in one hand and a paperback novel, The Bell Jar, rolled on one side i sat on a wooden chair and read this dowie line:

"To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead body, the world itself is a bad dream." 

-Sylvia Plath

 Feeling like ahole from which there was no way out, i performed Maghrib ablution witha verse roaming in my mind:

"Verily! only in the remembrance of Allah do heart find peace"

[Quran 13:28]

After obligatory prayer, I decamped to mess. My stomach was craving for rice and there they were: Haleem with boiled rice. I bought it for Rs. 90 and started eating on one of the four long tables of mess. My brain shifted towards clusters of friends eating and gossiping with each other on the next table and here i was; something like a tittle or gapessed in an unaccustomed feelings of nervousness. I snarfed food in hurry.

Chapter no.05

Twilight passed leisurely. At 9:00 P.M electricity went off and my elbow room filled up in pitch black darkness portraying a zeo degree chiaroscuro. I felt fear spreading to the outer surface of my heart; turning my feet cold it took control of fibrous pericardium. I tried to hide myself in duvet; curling up like a ball. And try as i would, fatigue waves left me like a calling bird; reducing my ability to sleep. My eyes burnt in an undefined fear and passionate desire to sleep. The whole night passed in insomia.

But a vague aura of happiness circled me in morning. It was a hope of leaving lonliness alone. Sprinkling my eyes with cold water, i dressed in neat clothes. The room was scanty of water so i went down and brought gallons of water. And prepared breakfast. Everything was ready and perfectly fine to welcome my pals. 

The noon passed. It was 2:00 P.M but both of them didn't show up still. My heart dropped. It wasn't fear of fear. Suddenly my phone rang, i received call with trembling hands and abnormally beating pump. It was a voice of an unknown:

"It is to inform you that your friends Zarah and Farah are injured badly in accident. Please give us the contact details of their family if you have any"

My heart skipped a beat and i went in sub-concious sleep with mackling alphabets dancing around my brain in babelism. 

*Tired and uninspired*

And try as i would, i couldn't stop myself thinking from:

What happened to them?

How soon will they recover?

Am i selfish to think about my lonliness still?

Will they survive?

When will they start living with me like before?

The pell-mell faded my mind in the shades of gray. And the words assembled like:

"Solitude do not come by choice but by no choice."

          

Author's Note

Kindly review at goodreads.com after reading my debut short story

Reviews

[Saddam]

Wonderful and interesting write friend.
I think you must put it together as book and chapter. That will be more fantastic and easy. Its my view.
It is beautiful write.
I am also on goodreads.com, so let meet you there.