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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
Short story

Submitted: October 29, 2016

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Submitted: October 29, 2016



Tipu had his back, both the legs and his head broken. He also had a sharp object puncturing his lungs and was critical in Intensive Care Unit. He would survive, the doctor said.  Sona was dead. They got married just 2 days back.

A week later, Tipu managed to speak. Sona was driving the vehicle after the lunch. It was an uphill with dangerous bends and she was driving at full speed. She lost control and they fell off the cliff.  He fell unconscious uttering these words. He is not stable enough to speak, Doctor said.

Sona was known for her rash driving once. "Isn't she the one who ran over 10 people 12 years ago?", quizzed the police officer. "Baseless, just media speculation. She was acquitted.", retorted her father with anger in his voice. Police had filed an accident case and closed it. Her last ceremony were performed without Tipu.

Sona was a failing actress in her late thirties when she found Tipu in a party. She fell for him instantly. Though she dated many men, elder and younger, she found warmth and comfort. He was the most romantic person. He was completely devoted to her and gave the much needed attention which a failing actress needs. Love has its own ways to lure people, her father thought. Her father was miffed with he being 5 years younger to her but gave away for the sake of his daughter. 

Two months later, Tipu was getting better. "It's a perfect throw", Doctor said. He then realised what he was doing. He managed to throw the pen into the 3rd pen hole in the pen stand, the one he aimed for. It was his habit, a rather peculiar one. Throwing paper into dustbin, pen into pen stand, clothes into laundry bag, paper cups and empty bottles into dustbin. Sometimes habit overcomes your emotion and gets hold of you irrespective of where you are. He always had a stress ball to play with. He will be discharged this week, he was told

Exactly a week later, he went to cemetery. Sat in front of the grave and cried. "I know it's you who saved me. I didn't think I will be alive. I also know it was not you who killed the people 12 years ago.". He sat there for a long time in silence and left two hours later. It was engraved Azhar Sultan and Fatima.

Tipu walked over to Sona's grave. Azhar was with Sona when she accidentally killed 10 people sleeping on the platform 12 years ago. But the way she left Azhar to die was not an accident. Azhar died 2 years later in prison cell, allegedly suicide. Their mom, Fatima died soon after. Tipu loathed Sona and decided to take sweet revenge. He thought of what happened on the day of accident.

"Come on Sona, you can drive fast.". "I can but I don't want to.". "Do you still think about the accident 12 years ago where you framed by brother?", he asked. "He's stupid but I am not". Her face changed a bit. She raised the accelerator out of nervousness. He appeared calm, aimed and threw the stress ball he carried exactly beneath the Brake pedal. He turned the steering wheel and released her seat belt. She lost control, couldn't apply the brakes, jammed because of stress ball, hit the median and fell from the cliff. He was awake till he assured himself that she died and his eyes closed. He never thought of making it alive. 

Tipu looked at her grave once again, smiled victoriously and walked over with elated feeling of satisfaction.

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