A Walk to ForgetA Story by AgyaniAn old man's tryst to remember his daily activities end up with something he would rather forget
Paul was sitting on a bench in the park. It was evening and the sun was right on the horizon. The sky had an orange texture and the birds were beginning to flock to their nests as a cool breeze swept by. The kids playing in the park were leaving for the day. It was that time when kids who are playing and elders who are having a get together in the park are replaced by people out for a stroll in the cool and temperate weather. Like any other day, Paul sat there on a lone bench. He spent his evenings gazing out into the distance at nothing in particular, trying to remember how he had spent his day. But like every other day, he drew a blank. The children paid no heed to the lanky person with sullen cheeks and light, ruffled grey hair. Those who happened to look at him turned their eyes away instantly. He looked confused and angry like a few other elderly people in the park, but there was something bitter about him that screeched silently at everyone. The dark circles beneath his bulging eyes and their tempestuous look made it appear like something grim and peculiar had him under its grip. His memories were like bits and pieces of a dream that he had to recall in order to form a clear picture: a puzzle with vital pieces missing here and there, a map without a legend. He had reached the point where he was not even sure whether the images that came to his mind as memories were really his experiences or just random bits of thoughts that come to one’s mind. As he just sat there, a couple of youngsters came by and sat on the adjacent bench. There were not many people around, and he could clearly hear what they were talking about. “So I believe you know the story associated with this place then, right?” said the one sitting on the left. “What story?” said the other with curiosity. He was wearing a black glow in the dark Slayer T-shirt. “Oh, the one about this park being haunted by the ‘Fog Ghost’”. The one with the glow in the dark Slayer t-shirt chuckled. “Come on pal, how dull a day have you had that you came up with such an old and hopeless attempt at something interesting?” “Well, I thought you must have heard about it, given the fact that you have lived here longer than I have. The Fog Ghost haunts this park on autumn and winter nights, preying on people when there is no one around. It is said that a fog starts to build up suddenly as all hint of sound starts to fade away, and in the morning afterwards, a lifeless body is found on one of the benches. Those found dead are always sitting and staring with their mouths wide open, as if staring at something in shock, their lives squeezed out of them. “They are said to have died of fear; overwhelming fear experienced at the sight of the ghost, which leads to a heart attack, as people say. Sometimes, people who are said to have entered the park at such nights just go missing, with no trace of them found, as if they just cease to exist on the face of the Earth.” Paul got a start when the other boy laughed hysterically for a couple of minutes. He forced himself to be motionless so as to not let them know he was listening to them. He didn't want to seem intrusive. “Do you even listen to yourself? Does your depravity know no bounds?” said the other boy taking breaks from his laughter. After managing to catch his breath and steadying himself, he continued. “Well, if you say that many people have either turned up dead or gone missing from the park on such nights, why do people come here in the first place? And what exactly does this phantom ghost of yours look like anyway?” “Why does anyone go to a haunted place in the first place? Curiosity! As to the appearance of the Fog Ghost, no one knows, for whoever finds out what he looks like doesn’t live to tell the tale! The old lady who lives in the house right behind where we are sitting now says she has seen a tall man with an overcoat walking around here. Sometimes two of them. But no one knows for sure,” said the one who had started the discussion, maintaining a serious tone. The other boy rolled his eyes. “Of course, a horror story without an old lady living alone, giving away the description of the ghost or some relevant detail, whom everyone believes to be crazy, is just not complete, is it?” Paul listened with full attention. He had lived there for about a decade. This was the first time he had heard the story. But then again he wasn’t sure about it, for he believed he was going senile day by day. The sun was about to set, and he decided to get up and pay a visit to his friend Karim for their daily game of checkers.
“It’s all ridiculous really. ‘The Fog Ghost haunting the park’. Sure I’ve heard of it, Paul! Just a story some jobless people have come up with over the years. When you live in a desolate rundown town like ours, you are bound to run into people with the craziest and most hilarious stories. The park does get a little too quiet and suspicious at times, but there’s no ghost who kills people there! You have been to the place at night yourself! How can you even imagine the whole thing to have even a hint of truth behind it?” Paul looked at Karim’s bearded face and his curled, oiled hair. It always seemed like he was feeling hot for he would always sit in a vest and be out of breath. But that was just Karim. Despite having a puffy nose he usually used his mouth to breath. His belly heaved with his breathing. Paul cast his eyes down to the checkers board on the table. He was trying to recall if he had ever been to the park at night, but he didn’t want to show his decrepit self in front of Karim. So he continued to pretend to ponder over his next move in the game. His brain refused to think about different things simultaneously. As a matter of fact, Paul knew he would find it difficult to concentrate on any single thing, let alone multiple things, even if he tried his best. His head started feeling heavy, and he decided to go home for the day. As he was on his way home, the story continued to invade his mind. For the first time in a long, long time, he was able to visualize something vividly on his own accord. As he replayed the entire narrative in his mind, he found himself right in front of the entrance of the park. He stood there fiddling with the idea for some time. In the end, he gave in to his desperation. He entered the park and plugged in his iPod. He didn’t remember who had given it to him. There was only Pink Floyd on his device, the one thing that he remembered, and cherished. With his earphones plugged in firmly, he strolled at a leisurely pace. The park looked deserted. The park was always dimly lit, and even during the evenings when there weren’t many people around, one could get jumpy at the snapping of a twig. It was a typical October night with the weather a little chilly. With no one else around in his field of vision, Paul’s imagination started getting the better of him. The area he was now walking in was particularly dark. He frequently glanced over his shoulder instinctively to check for someone creeping up behind him. All that he could hear was the track playing. The song continued. Will the following footsteps catch me? Am I really dying? Everything seemed ominous to Paul. It was a moonless night, so there was little light to account for. He decided to complete his round of the park and head home. As he continued walking, he began to feel cold. He was nearing a lamp post. No sooner than he reached it did he realize that a fog had started to descend around him. His mind was now racing, something that didn't usually happen, and something that he would have liked to experience. But this was not the way he had expected it to do so. He picked up his pace and decided to make for the exit. As he walked past the lamp post he glanced around him in hope to find another soul with him in the park. Someone other than the Fog Ghost, his mind corrected him. Suddenly, he heard a sound in the distance. It was as if a bag filled with cement had fallen on the ground from a height. Paul moved in its direction cautiously as well as frantically. He saw something glowing on the bench in front of him. There was no lighting there and the stars hardly helped his cause to illuminate the area. Paul unplugged his iPod and could only hear the sounds of his overcoat dragging on the ground as he walked and the frenetic beating of his heart. Never had he experienced such a profound and intimidating silence that made his heartbeat so audible. He finally reached the bench with nervous steps and saw someone sitting on it. As he extended his hand to touch the person, he saw that something was emitting a greenish glow on his t-shirt. His eyes widened in shock as he remembered the teenager he had seen hours before in the same place. It most definitely was him, for the word Slayer was printed on the t-shirt. His mind was now berserk. He tapped the boy twice on the shoulder and then heard someone creep up behind him. He turned around in panic. “Paul, I really wished you hadn’t done so yet again.” He recognized the voice instantly but was struck with horror as well as confusion. His eyes were better adjusted to the darkness now, and he could see Karim standing in front of him in black overalls. He stared at him in utter shock, unable to move at all. His breathing was now heavy, and he could feel as well as hear his heart pumping blood through his entire body at an enormous rate. “Let me voice out the thoughts in your mind, or rather answer them. I am the Fog Ghost, Paul. Yes, it’s true. It’s not a name I am particularly fond of, and I don’t just come here to kill. This is the place where I was buried, on a night not unlike this, twenty-five years ago. Since then I have been trapped in this place on such nights. Everything else that has happened has not been by my doing, so to say. It was something I could do nothing about, for even today, people are afraid of darkness and have no control over their minds.” Paul continued looking incredulously at Karim. “Oh don’t look so awful now, Paul! I wish you would not be so shocked to know this, for you have known this for a while now! Well, you always forget it, which is my doing. If I didn’t wipe your memories time and again, people wouldn’t waste a second to label you a stark raving lunatic. Not that it matters that much, for you don’t belong to the living world anymore, either. It is something you have never understood, and I do not expect you to understand now. All you need to know is that I care about you.” He took a few steps towards Paul with his arm outstretched, aiming at his forehead. In the dark and silent night, Karim’s audible breathing was the most sinister thing. “Gosh, it’s always the same thing with you, isn’t it? I thought this time I had really convinced you not to come here and that I could do away with this once and for all, but there is no getting around some things after all!” Karim took another step towards Paul. “I don’t like doing this, you know. I know how much it hurts you to be unable to remember a single thing, and how you spend your evenings reflecting on your daily activities because that’s about as much as you can recall. But you’re the only friend I have. I thought it’s lonely for a living person to be by himself, but it’s much worse when you’re a ghost. People can’t even see you! I can’t lose someone who can see me and also likes my company, Paul!” He reached for Paul’s forehead and gave it a slight tap. All hint of sound disappeared, and then there was complete darkness. © 2018 AgyaniAuthor's Note
Featured Review
Reviews
|
StatsAuthorAgyaniIndiaAboutA novelist by heart, but a freelance ghostwriter by necessity. It's only pen and paper (or my keyboard) that help me 'show' who I am and not just 'be' who I am. I am a storyteller and try to m.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|