She made a quick noiseless move and I sensed it right behind my spine. The silence that wrapped us was the savior of the moment but she chased him away.
“Are you writing again?”
I lingered on to my savior
“Hmm..that means you are thinking deep. It is not good for you to do that often.”
Bloody. She knew me.
“Anyway, looks like many like your writing. But do they know the reason for those masterpieces?”
“They are not masterpieces! Just amateur writing”, I gritted through my teeth. Temper erupted.
“Ahhhh..you love appreciation, don’t you?”, she asked in normal tone.
To me, it was a jeer.
“Everyone does”, I replied curtly.
“You want to be better than her. That could be a reason too. Feels like a loser?”, she whispered in my ears.
I didn’t reply. It was not true.
“Not everyone is gifted. You are just trying too hard. And all this is not going to bring him back”, she hissed in my ears again.
“Who?” , I asked in a meek voice. I knew the answer. I never confess.
“You can cheat the world, my girl, anyone, but not me. You can act like nothing happened but I know all the moments you cried.”, she said in a voice that brought back the memories.
I concentrated on the words I wrote. There were too many mistakes, just like in my life. The mistakes I never acknowledged. Mistakes that had happened because I didn’t think. Or maybe I thought too much.
“How do you know? What does it mean to you?”, I snarled.
She laughed. It trailed through my ears and seemed like life long.
“You are so vulnerable. You have nothing that is yours; love, money or even talent”, she laughed louder.
I stared at the words. They were crawling all over the place. The echoes of misery lashed everywhere.
“Hello? Subha?”, I heard a familiar voice.
“What are you doing?”
“Hmmm..nothing. Was thinking what to write. What are you doing?”
She disappeared from the place and went into my head again. I shut her again; from myself.