SHADOWY LIFE AFTER DEATH

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic


She never thought that after her death she would want her husband to marry his girlfriend!

Submitted: May 17, 2018

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Submitted: May 17, 2018

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SHADOWY LIFE AFTER DEATH

 

I came out onto the 5th-floor landing from my hotel room. I was in a Mumbai hotel situated on marine drive, the famous queen’s necklace, overlooking the sea. Traveling from New Delhi, with my husband, Rohington who was here on an official visit, I intended to go around and fully enjoy my stay in this city whenever he was free.

The floor landing had a large window of translucent glass from which the gentle blue and white waves of the Arabian sea were visible. Next to the window on the left was the elevator and the flight of stairs going down. The slanting morning sun was shining through the opening, lightening the milky white walls like a reflector.

It was a glorious morning, seeming to spread cheer all-around and my mood matched the scene. It seemed that my passionate romance during the night with my husband was happily spilling over to this morning.

But then I was also feeling slightly queasy. In this picturesque setting, there seemed to be some glitches.

I remembered faintly that I had a blackout a little while ago while I was in the shower. To add to that discomfort, I was now finding that my long hair was totally wet, my feet in the slippers were squishing with water but my light pink embroidered dress was dry. Also, the mirror opposite the lift was showing that my eyeliners and the red lipstick were intact and so was my light foundation makeup, though they seemed quite washed-out. Peculiarly there was a red mark on the left forehead just below my hairline.

Yet I didn’t bother. While thinking that I should have dried my hair and changed my wet slippers, what I eventually did was to press the button of the lift to bring it up to my floor; I wanted to go down to the restaurant for breakfast with my husband. He was already downstairs for picking up some official papers.

While waiting, my uneasy feeling in some way metamorphosed into a weird sensation. Something was not right … for sure.

And within moments my intuition bore fruition. The lift came up to my floor, the doors slid open noiselessly, my husband came out along with his Personal Assistant, Fiona and started to walk towards me. I began to respond but at once I realized that although I was standing there in their full view, they didn’t seem to see me. They walked through me as if I was an open space; as if I was not any physical hindrance to them.

I blinked in surprise and tried to stop them, called out …. nothing happened. They went towards my room; my husband opened the door with the spare key and they went inside.

I was taken aback. What was this? Why didn’t they see and hear me? How could they walk through my body? I needed to check this out. Moving painstakingly towards the door, somehow my right leg was hurting, I heard a shrill cry from inside the room. That was Fiona. My husband’s loud and thick voice also reached my ears.

Before I could react Rohington staggered out, he was muttering to himself, “Oh my God… heaven help me… what is this? Sabrina is dead?”  

I wanted to reach out to him ….to ask him what was happening… he again completely ignored me.

He pressed the button of the lift and seeing that it was not coming up, took the flight of stairs down with shuffling feet.

Instead of following him I thought fit to go into my room. The answer might be there.

What was my husband saying?

Walking in slowly I saw that Fiona was sitting on the sofa near the window. Her face was ashen, she was holding her mobile phone in her right hand which was shaking perceptibly.

I said, “Fiona…what’s the fuss about? Tell me…why Rohington has rushed down the stairs…?”

She didn’t bother to look at me, more annoyingly there was no reply, I could see her sobbing mildly, her body seemed to tremble…her eyes were fixed towards the shower room door.

I frowned. Was my husband saying that I was dead? Did I hear right? What rubbish? I was very much alive…. standing here…. or was I?

He didn’t notice me…. even Fiona was ignoring me!

Increasingly I was getting totally perplexed…. never in my life had I faced this dilemma. To begin with, the mystery seemed to lie inside the shower room, so I walked in there.

It was just the way I had left it some time ago, but then there was a difference.

Instantly my breath stopped, and my legs became weak. A stifled scream came out of me… I had to support myself against the wall.

What did I see? Unbelievable!!

My body was kneeling on the ground at the side of the bathtub and my head was hanging inside …. twisted to an impossible angle… my right arm was dangling outside touching the floor and my head was resting awkwardly against my left shoulder and arm. My hair was open and loosely floating on the water…. both the taps were partially open, so water was accumulating…. gently swirling and turning into deep red color with my blood oozing out from the deep gash on top of my left forehead. My right leg seemed to be bent and my both feet inside the slippers were wet. I was in my green nightgown but an image of my embroidered pink dress which I was wearing now …. I had kept it next to the bathtub to change after the shower … flashed in my mind. My vanity bag, which was kept next to the basin mirror, was open. I couldn’t see any towel or extra slippers anywhere.

All these took some seconds to absorb …. then shakily I sat down on the floor mat, holding my head in my hand.

I touched my face … my arms, they felt normal. What had happened to me? Was I out of my body?

Slowly realization was dawning upon me that this moving body of mine was not real … it was my spirit …... my soul… which none else could see or hear or touch.

My ethereal body was with me. My physical body lay dead in that shower room.

Heaven help me!!

I was now faintly recalling that after getting up from my bed, this morning, I had gone to the shower room and while bending down to open the bathtub taps my feet must have had slipped on the wet floor and I hit my head on the taps and collapsed inside. I would have been unconscious but as the water had accumulated I drowned and my life had ebbed away. Unfortunately, my husband had gone down to the hotel lobby to meet Fiona during that time.

It was also crossing vaguely through my mind that after my death in the shower room, I would have changed my dress, put on my make- up but in absence of any towel and extra slippers, couldn’t wipe my hair and continued to wear my wet slippers.

Why would I do all this? Perhaps, after this stage, I wouldn’t have got any other chance to be properly attired. 

Nonetheless, coming out from the shower room I looked around. Everything was same.  Fiona was now talking to someone in the mobile.

In this invisible state, I must think what should I do?

While musing, I walked forward and sat on the edge of the bed.

Within a few minutes it seemed, I heard that my husband was returning. He entered the room and directly went to Fiona. He looked devastated.

“Have you informed the hotel guys …” Fiona asked.

“Yes... they are coming and the Police.” My husband replied haltingly, “This has been a terrible shock to me….!”

He sat next to Fiona on the sofa and held his head.

Fiona put her arms around my husband and said soothingly, “Now…now… my brave man… don’t lose heart… everything will be all right. This is just an accident. The Police will understand this and soon the matter will be closed and be over. Why do you worry? I am with you! “

My husband moved away a little, “I know… I know… Fiona … still …”

She then held his both hand in hers, “I am always with you…”

As I was watching all this, without their knowing my presence there, my instinct was telling me about a special relationship between them. I couldn’t deny that I had suspected this quite early during our marriage, however, my husband always insisted that there was nothing.

Somehow, while I was observing them my sentiments were getting incited, little by little.

Soon, the hotel staff arrived followed by the Police.

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The Police had concluded that my death was indeed an accident. After the formalities, my body was cremated in the City.

Three nights later I was back in New Delhi. My otherworldly self.

Rohington had also returned. Fiona was constantly with him.

Although I was dead, I was very much present in this physical world. The ostensible difference was that I could move anywhere at my wish and I didn’t have any demands of a physical body, such as of hunger, thirst, sleep …

Another two weeks had passed.

That was the night of 14th May, the time was 11.43 p.m. and I was in my bedroom with my husband. He was of course not aware of my presence. I was sitting on the chair in front of my dressing table. I could see myself clearly in the mirror and I could see my husband too, lying on the bed. His right arm was covering his eyes…he was very still… I could understand his predicament.

How long was I sitting there and watching him? I had lost count when suddenly his mobile rang.

My intuition was that Fiona was calling.

Rohington listened to her for some moments and then said, “Fiona… please try to understand… my wife has died just a short while ago … I am totally shaken… I can’t think straight… please don’t come now. We will talk later. “

He was interrupted, after which he spoke with a slightly higher pitch.

“No… no…. I can’t give my words at this time to marry you… I haven’t decided …. Don’t force me… I repeat, don’t come now.”

Disconnecting the mobile, he sat up on the bed and shook his head. Then, getting up he went to the fridge in the Kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, drank it and returned closing the bedroom door behind him.

I was watching him intensely without moving but then my emotions were getting sucked into a turmoil which was gradually tearing me apart. I had been staying with my husband continuously during this difficult phase as an unseen shadow, understanding his deep and distressing mental turbulence. He was listless, had become silent, many times I could see him crying in presence of Fiona who tried her best to pacify him … care for him…. he calmed down occasionally and then again sank into bitterness and helplessness. My sympathy was with him. We had been a childless couple with no known relatives who could support him at this crucial juncture. He was very lonely.

All these were making me feel sad…truly miserable.

I wanted him to overcome the grief of my absence; to return to normal life; to regain his happiness which I had always given him…I wanted to help him.

Could Fiona make his life easier? I thought so. Even though he loved me, he had a soft corner for Fiona. He always denied this. Yet I supposed that Fiona would make the difference. She was serious about him … she might be in love with him. Yes, she could bond with Rohington; I would even say that they could marry!

Then the depressing thought struck me, “If he got Fiona, would he still love me…miss me?

These chains of thoughts were making me weep … tears rolled down my cheeks… my emotions were heaving like waves in a stormy sea. How could a wife accept her husband to marry another woman? This was mental torture to the extreme!

Then I wiped my tears away. Why was I getting so upset? I was not alive anymore; my husband was a widower; now he was free. My feelings had no rationality. In spite of this ……

Many hours had passed, I could hear that the wall clock in the passage outside the bedroom had chimed every half an hour and many chimes had happened. I was sitting on that chair since hours, Rohington was lying on the bed … I could make out that he was restless…couldn’t sleep.

Then that unimaginable incident happened.

I heard a slight noise coming from towards the closed bedroom door. I turned to look at it and what did I see?

Fiona was walking through the closed door!

Just as I could also do.

Was she no longer alive?

Was her body a spirit just as my body was?

This was totally unexpected.

I knew that she could see me since she came near me and held my hand. “Sabrina… my dear friend … I have joined you.”

Staring at her, I asked, “How?”

I knew the answer anyway.

She looked at me with miserable eyes, “This is God’s will! I was coming here. While driving my car I met with an accident, just a while ago, my dead body is still on the road not too far away from here.”

Would my dilemma never end? Nevertheless, the conclusion was now certain.

Getting up I embraced her, “Yes, I agree, neither could I remain with my husband nor could you get him although I guessed you must have loved him and wanted him.”

She remained silent for many seconds then said, “All these are beyond us! Let’s not remain in this physical world anymore… Let Rohington live his life the way he wants….”

We then walked out of the house, hand in hand. No doors were needed to be opened for us.

But for Rohington, my dear husband, all doors were open.

Time is the best healer!

 

END

 

 

 

 

 


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