And so, I can brag soooo much about this! An actual guest blog, from someone you guys don’t know at all. For now, she’ll be recognized as Anabelle on the site. In time, perhaps, you may quiz me. But for now, read one of the best first articles anyone has ever written. — Nitesh
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Never gave it a thought that I would actually give in to writing a blog…but here I am. And now, I don’t want to give it a second thought. Yes, I always wanted a secret identity. Was kind of fascinating to me, actually gives me the liberty to speak my heart out without any worries of how the world will react. This is one place I can be me. I think.
So here’s a story of a girl. No, nothing new, the same old life that people have. But with a lot more fun, a lot more drama, a lot more love, a lot more passion, a lot more hate but most importantly, more of fear.
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Living our lives believing some things never exist, and then one night you stand face to face with it. You end up realizing the fact that this non-believe is now your biggest fear. I’m Anabelle (fictitious name). I’m 17 years old and have lived all these 17 years in a superbly fantastic way, my way. I have always been in the same school since Nursery so never had to face the drudgery of experiencing a new environment, eing tortured and most importantly, I have always been saved from the ragging part.
I came back home from school late in the evening. The porch lights were off so I realized my parents weren’t home. I grabbed the house keys from under the doormat and unlocked the door. I had had a hectic day so wasn’t really in a mood to prepare the dinner and decided to wait till my parents were back. I headed upstairs for my room, changed and got back down to see if there was anything in the fridge to drink. I opened the fridge door when suddenly there was a loud noise outside somewhere and the next moment the lights were gone. It was pitch dark but I managed to work my way to the kitchen counter and found a candle and a matchbox in the drawer. I lit the candle and brought it to the living room so I could atleast figure out what things were kept where. I kept the matchbox on the centre table in case I would need it. I heard my phone ringing so I headed upstairs to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Anabelle?”
“Yea mom its me.”
“Umm I just called to inform that dad and I are stuck in the storm here so we’d be late. If the weather gets bad we’d be staying here for the night. You stay indoors and make sure all the doors and windows are bolted. I’ve made grilled sandwich for you, its in the oven. Eat it and have a good night. We’ll be home as soon as possible”
“Okay mom. I will. You take care. Good night”
“Goodnight honey.”
I tossed my phone on my bed and sat on the floor. I had the whole house to me for the night and I had nothing to do, so I decided I’d go back downstairs and have the grilled sandwich and wait till the lights are back. There was a loud thunder and the clouds rumbled. It started raining. I heard a noise from downstairs so I decided to check. I half ran skipping two steps at a time when I sprained my ankle and fell. I tried getting up but lost my balance and found the floor again. I hurt my head and the floor felt so nice and warm, when suddenly I felt something wet in my hand. I told myself that the floor must be wet because of the rain; Some water must have seeped in. There was a loud thunderclap followed by lightning, which gave me enough light to see that it wasn’t the rain water that had the floor all wet. It was blood.
I felt a sudden panic attack and ran my hand over my head and through my hair to see how badly I was hurt. I wasn’t, I didn’t have scratch. There were no signs of bruises… I was perfectly fine. Then whose blood was it? I panicked even more and ran towards the living area to get the candle. I grabbed the candle and ran back to the stairs to see where all that blood came from. And to my surprise.. there was no blood. The floor was as dry as it had ever been. I tried to reconcile myself and comforted myself with lies that probably I was imagining everything… probably I had hit my head very hard, probably there was actually no blood but my mere imagination. The dining hall window cracked open and there was again a loud thunder. It was raining harder and the winds blew off the candle. I went back to the living area to get the matchbox from the centre table. I slipped on the wet floor. It was blood, yet again. I told myself I was imagining again and shuffled through the pages lying on the centre table to grab the matchbox. But it wasn’t there. I remembered clearly that I had left it there then, but now it was gone. I heard a door open and close upstairs.
“Anybody there?”, I asked. There was no reply, obviously.. I was alone in the house.
I asked again and this time my voice was followed by a lightning and a thunderclap lighting up the whole room. There was a man right in front of me. He had wounds all over his body and bloody eyes that wanted to kill me. I screamed out loud and ran for my life. I threw open the main door and ran endlessly out in the rain. I was panting… I stopped to see if the man was still following me. I turned around to make sure I was safe. There was no one. I was alone on the road in the heavy downpour. I relaxed and the rain helped my muscles loosen up a bit when suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face that hideous looking man again. I screamed again but in vain. He stabbed me right in my stomach. I lay still on the ground groaning in pain. I called for help but no one could hear me at this hour of the night, and in this rain. The man was gone and so were my hopes of living. I lay there unmoving.. bleeding. The cold rain washed my blood off my wounds. I felt my eyes closing. Sleep was taking me in her arms but I knew it was my conscience that I was losing. I was dying. And there I lay dead.
by Anabelle
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Nitesh and Tushar --- A blog inside GBS 