The Girl I meet In Road Side: Is the story of the weekly edition published every weekend.
While she asked me if I could have wine instead of a coffee? Stating she has an excellent old collection of wine bottles.
I said “Yeah with Pleasure” If you don’t mind, Give me the most aged and If you have white.
Sure, She said, While I asked if could see her house.
With a straining voice, she said “Yeah” But didn’t go upstairs. It’s a messy place I have not cleaned for months.
With a wired feeling, I said, “Ok, I am a Detective agent.” And I walked around.
She had a wild collection of “Wine Bottle” from the fifties. While roaming around, I found a concern room lights were On. To my surprise, she was an artist. The room was full of painting. Thou, It was unorganized and laying here and there. But all the artwork was mesmerizing as enchanting to my eyes.
Getting inside the room, I walked in to see one by one; Many were lying upside down. To my curious nature, my eyes caught up to a box which was neatly covered with a white velvet cloth; In the room, where all the pictures were scattered. I opened the box to know what was inside?
To my surprise, It’s my painting which had one colour “RED” As if It was blood(red) which filled my picture.
While asking myself “What The F**K” It is?
Bumbling behind, I hit myself with a sharp stand, As I panic and got hurt scratching my skin the blood started to follow; Sensing some danger around me, Still without uttering a single word; I left the room rushing to the hallway.
Where all of a sudden she bumped in asking “What happened?” Are you Ok?
While trying to get the hold on my curiosity and frightened face, I said “No Nothings.” My mom called, I should leave, my mother would be worried as its 3:00 am.
Seeing me suspiciously, She asked “Hey relax cool down” have the wine. You can leave; Before that tell me what happened and your bleeding, let me get you a first-aid box.
While I got the wine glass in my hand, trying to hold little courage from inside, I asked, “How come you have my painting?” I sounded as if I was having a nervous breakdown.
She laughed “Oh that’s what is the problem is,” with a calm face, She said I have seen for a year, So I pictured you in my painting, Even you have seen me many times on the roadside.
As I Asked “Why” you did not tell me you’re a painter. And you have my painting.
She said “The topic didn’t occur while we spoke”, So I didn’t.
Is that’s the Problem She asked:
I flooded with my next question “Why you have painted me so red; It looks blood all over my picture. It freaks me out.
It’s Just an art nothing serious She Said;
Still, I was unsatisfied with her words. I drank the entire glass of wine in a shot. So I could hurry up and get going to my car. I wanted to get outside of the house for some fresh air.
As she sat next to me with a first-aid kit; The place was suffocating me with a guilty conscious What the Hell I have got myself into; While I was drowning into my unconscious mode.
Trying to keep myself awaken; While my intuit knew there was something wrong and I am into it; Thou, I want to run. My body found itself helpless to keep my eyes open and unable to move my legs. Slowly all my brain cells were shutting down, As She sat next to me lighting up a cigarette.
Meanwhile, I could hear the doorbell ring in far away, and things were getting blur into shadows. Everything around me was crumbling,
With very little semi-conscious; I could listen to a familiar voice which I felt I knew from a long time; While a blurred image walked towards me.
Her laughter was loud as a dilling machine.
Thou, these two shades came approaching me. My eyes slowly shattered into thick darkness.
Next Chapter, Next Week,