That night at the morgue

The story describes the stress a person faces when their loved ones go missing, the horrors of identifying a dead body and the sorrows if the dead body belongs to them.

That night at the morgue

 

I woke up one Monday morning. It was around 6.30 Am. I could hear the sparrows chirping. It was a lovely pleasant morning, but something about it made me anxious. A tension started to build up in my heart, it made me feel upset. I tried to suppress my thoughts and got off my bed. On returning from the washroom, I wished my mom a good morning as she poured the milk to my cereal. I asked her about dad’s homecoming, he was out of town. “He would be home after a week”, she replied. We talked for another 10 minutes and then she went to the kitchen. She showed up 20 minutes later in a pink salwar suit, ready to leave for her job. I waved a ‘bye’ to her and told her to be careful. I went back inside , got ready and reached my college.

 I got the feeling of sadness again, a feeling of regret, as I saw the pink wall of my college building. It made me feel uneasy. Something about it frightened me. I saw my watch and ran hurriedly for my class. I was on time and the teacher came 5 minutes late. Fifteen minutes later ,a sudden silence came upon the classroom. The teacher got off from the chair and went towards one of my classmates and slapped her. The sound of slap echoed in the dreary silence. It scared the hell out of me. But to my surprise, she started laughing hysterically and so did the whole class including the teacher. I asked my friend who sat beside me, “Why is everybody laughing?” “ Funny isn’t it ? Don’t tell me you didn’t find it funny”, she said. I said to me “something is not right”. I was a rationalist, but these events made me superstitious. 

On my way home, I evaluated my day. My thoughts brought a feeling of terror inside me. Why were they laughing when the teacher hit her? Why was the building looking depressed? As I reached my home, I rang the doorbell. No reply. I rang it again and again,no reply. I thought,”Why mom isn’t attending me?” Thankfully, I had a spare key and went inside home. I looked everywhere, she wasn’t there. I called her; her phone was switched off. I’ve seen enough crime shows to know where this was going. I immediately called my father and told him about my mother. He advised me to wait till evening and if she doesn’t show up, I shall report it to police.

 Time was not passing. Every minute seemed so heavy to me, I could feel it crushing me to death. Random thoughts whirpooled in my head. “What if she got hit by a car on her way to home ? What if she was kidnapped? What if she would never return home? What Am I going to do without her? What if dad heard the news of her death? Will he be a widower? Could I ever tell her again that I love her so much ?” I was at the verge of crying. And then tears rolled down my cheeks .I began crying. I saw the time, it was 7.30 , I immediately rushed to the police station. The police officer told me to wait for another 24 hours to see if she return on her own and took my phone number. On my way to home ,I called my mom again ,the monotonous voice said the same thing - Switched off. I began drowning in my own worry. I became nostalgic, the time I spent with my mom as a child came before my eyes. I crossed my fingers ,and prayed “oh god, please let me see my mom behind that door”. Though my heart was pounding, I felt relived as I thought this. 

I reached home and  there was no sign of her. It was 8 pm, when I received a call on my phone. I quickly said “Hello! “ without even looking at the number. Hello?” ,said the manly voice on the other side. All I could think of was him being the kidnapper. “Hello ? This is Mr. Singh from the Police Station”. “Have you found my mother?” I asked. I began quivering ,my throat choked ,my words started shaking and they weren’t making sense to me. “No. But we have found a dead body near the Main Park. Please come for the body identification!” He demanded. I became numb. I couldn’t feel my body. I felt my heart stopped, it felt bulky and it burdened me , I couldn’t blink my eyes ,a stream of  tears flowed from my eyes. My thoughts made me suffocate, I couldn’t breathe. The world stopped for me and everything stopped making sense to me.

 I rushed to the police station, crying. The officer took me to the morgue. The air contained the smell of antiseptics and chemicals. It was horrible. I couldn’t notice anything more. The officer took me near the dead body. It was covered in a white cloth. As he was about to take the cover off, I told him not to. I was preparing myself mentally. My legs were turning weak, my hands shivered and my heart pounded. My mouth was dry , but I wasn’t thirsty. I crossed my fingers and slowly lowered down the sheet cover. I saw the dead body’s hair, it was lifeless. As lowered it down, a pale, dull, rubber like face appeared in front of my eyes. The dead body had a pink kurti on. My brain took some seconds to interpret it. PINK!!  And then, I screamed " It’s my mom! As I said it, I cried heavily. I couldn’t stop those tears. I got submerged in my own tears. I remembered the time when I fought with her and the time when I fought for her. Every memory with her seemed to be a dream. Her godlike face appeared in front of my eyes. It was out of this world , it was paranormal. Everything seemed to end, and I collapsed on the floor. My mind began playing games with me. “Why did god separate her from me? How my life is going to be without her? What if this was a dream? My mind cried and so did my eyes. I could feel the warmth of tears on my face. I was falling down an abyss, an abyss which was dark, an abyss from which no one could ever return, an abyss which had no end…

 

I constantly felt someone tapping my back, which intensified. I laid quiet , I didn’t move. I was afraid to face the death of my mother. This thought made me cried more. I felt someone calling my name. “ Sneha! Sneha?...”.It grew in magnitude. “Sneha! Wake up! You are going to be late.“ It was a female’s voice. I listened close. ”Sneha!? Wake up, its already 7 am !” How it could be ? It was my mom’s voice.” Am I dead? Am I dreaming about my mom? “ I opened my eyes , wiped my tears. When I looked to right , I saw my mom. She was 5 feet away from me ,near the wardrobe. She said to me again “You are going to late!”. I was not dead! And she was alive! And then suddenly a thought struck me with a speed of lightning - my whole day was a dream, a nightmare. My mother’s pink salwar- kurti , the pink college wall, the students laughing. And finally it made sense to me, and why those events seemed so absurd. It was a dream! I thanked god, that it was only a dream. My mom was actually there! She wasn’t dead. I came running and hugged her from behind. She was surprised to see this behavior and the tears in my eyes. She asked me , “What’s wrong”, and I couldn’t ever utter a word. There were tears and silence….A long silence which she understood.

Author's Note

I made some changes in it .Its my first story. Please review it and do tell me the errors :)
Thanks in Advance :D

Reviews

[Ankur Sharma]

a writer should listen every suggestion but I think the best advice a author can take from himself or herself because, you know if you are not get excited or feel like i have written something that can make others mad how can you aspect the people will love you.Its your first story I like it very much the suspense in the end part was good,an the thoughts too.

[EyeAmSparkling]

Thank you so much. Glad you liked it :)