Ink Drift - July

Issue 12 - Fear
Not Everything is Dead
After our son turned
four, my wife and I
started distancing
ourselves from each
other. Irritation built
on petty things, which
turned finally turned
to aggression. I was
slowly nearing myself
to the path of an alcoholic
and I was done
with her. She wanted
freedom, and I, being a dominating
man, wouldn’t let her be. We fought
daily, be it me coming home late or her
not cooking up to my expectations. I did
not want to be with her anymore just
like she did not want to be with me.
Our son, was in preschool and like
every other child, was innocent. There
were times when he saw us fight like a
snake and a mongoose, me being the
mongoose, obviously. He just went into
his room, slammed the door shut and
we never bothered to check onto him.
One night, while I was laying beside my
wife, hearing her soft snores, I decided
to finally end everything. Yes, I had decided
to kill her. I got out of the sheets,
walked to her side, put my hand on her
mouth and started choking her. She
whimpered and started gasping for air,
but as I was stronger than her, I held
onto my grip on her throat. Finally,
after a while, which seemed like a decade,
she stopped moving. Her widened
eyes lay there, staring at the ceiling. She
stopped breathing and was dead.
I picked her body up and lay it on the
floor. I walked to the backyard and
Not
Everything
is Dead
Ivana Dutta
started digging with a
shovel. When I had dug
enough, I walked back
into our bedroom, picked
her lifeless body up and
tossed her into the grave.
I covered her body back
with mud as she lay under
the Earth.
I walked back into the
bedroom, closed the doors
and windows and had a
long shower. I couldn’t believe that she
was actually out of my life once and for
all. The only thing that made me afraid
was our son. He would ask the next day
where his mother was. I had to think
of something to tell him that she would
never come back.
But surprisingly, days passed, but he
never asked for his mother. I was confused
but also happy at the same time
that I did not have to face the guilt anymore.
Until one day, he asked something
to me, which left me horrified.
He asked, “Daddy, why are you car Editor:
Let’s begin with a short introduction.
Tell us a little about yourself.
Aishwarya: I’m a passionate writer who
pens down my thoughts and gives my
two cents in topics that interest me.
Apart from writing poems, music blogs,
and articles, I spend my quality time
in painting and doing art forms. I’m an
occasional shutterbug, book aficionado,
music maniac, and enthusiastic learner,
and above all—a proud jack of few
trades.
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