Sarah knew about them, the thieves who stole a gold chain from the little girl on the crowded bus, she knew how they ran, swirled and danced in the road. She knew what they did with that shiny gold chain, she saw them throw it down the lake.
The newspaper felt heavy on her hands, she took a pen and scrapped their face from the news article. That image would haunt her now. She took a sip of hot cocoa and sank back into her chair. Phone beeped a message from her sister, the pink glow of her phone shone brighter than usual and she shoved her phone into her purse.
Today the thieves, yesterday a murderer, she feared what she might see the next day. Her life has never been the same since Grandma’s death. She clutched her grandma’s pendant, the softness of the metal soothed her thoughts, and she could sit there forever undisturbed and would finally find peace. It was a welcoming thought and she smiled imagining a peaceful life.
People are strange, ever since they knew about her knowledge of understanding death, they would come to her with questions and advice, some offers her money, a large fortune. She hesitated at times, she could easily be a con artist and live the life of luxury. The thought of knowing what happened to a strange man is not easy, she had framed that sentence over and over in her head but all the time it felt stale and useless. People refuse to take her concerns seriously.
‘I die with them’ She told her sister, ‘every single time’
Her sister was sitting opposite her, a large bottle of sugar cane juice in front of them, it was like old days, sharing a drink and chatting about life except now it’s about her sister’s request. She wanted to know what happened to the men who the necklace.
‘It was long ago’
‘I don’t care, I want to know that, how they died, who killed them, what they did’
Her sister’s eyes looked vicious, a strange sense of triumph.
‘You are my sister, I want you to understand’ her sister pulled her hair into a messy bun and lit a cigarette.
‘Yes, you are my sister, you have to understand my trauma’ and her sister got up, the sugarcane juice was left on the table, untouched.
Sarah cut out the photo the two men from a local newspaper, she kept them on the table and placed her fingers over it. A strange electrifying sense rushed through her, her fingers burnt and a small cry leapt out.
There were two little boys running after a duck. The men chased the boys, their legs wobbly and paced in an unsteady yet rhythmic manner. The kids jumped into a pond and laughed, the sound of their laughter echoed in Sarah’s ear, the image so striking, it was as if she was watching them.
The men gawked, their eyes widening, strange giddiness pulsated through their body. One with an English moustache cracked a crass joke and the other breaded made a funny face.
The one who cracked the joke dived into the pond.
Sarah opened her eyes, she would know what happened but she didn’t want to know how it happened. She would feel the death with them, and this day she would die twice.
Her sister rang her for the fifth time that day and she ignored.
If I were to die, would you care to know why I died?
Her sister’s messaged flashed in her eyes, she knew her sister’s anger and she knew how that angered her.
She responded to her sister with a no in caps lock.
Three hours and forty eight minutes passed and a strange sense of guilt pressed her. She pulled the newspaper clipping out from the stack and stared at the two thieves. She didn’t want to do this and her sister was being silly. She hated when people said how cool it is to know the death. It’s never cool, it’s death.
I am sure you helped Mehr
Mehr wanted to know her child’s murderer and not a silly robbery. She let out another sigh. She hated this torture.
‘Probably someday you would die with them’ her grandma’s words reverberated in her ears.
She placed her fingers over the scratched out faces of two thieves. The same electrifying sensation returned but this time with much elevation.
The men jumped deep into the pond but wasn’t able to catch the kids, the one with moustache hit head onto a stone, blood oozed from his forehead. Sarah wiped her forehead with her hand and smelled her blood soaked fingers.
The other one swam hurriedly, fear stretched across his face. He held on to the rock but hands slipped and the weight of the other man fell heavy on him. A minute or two he made an attempt to swim but all went in vain. He swam a bit and felt himself being pulled down. Slowly, he was drowning.
Sarah gasped. She couldn’t breathe. She felt her throat tighten and the air thicken.
The man drowned and with every passing second Sarah felt herself sinking.
The floor on which she sat ruptured and her body fell gently deep and deep into the abyss. She lurched forward in an attempt to hold onto something but everything around her was slippery. Her breath went shallow and slowly she let herself sink into the pond with the thief.
Sarah saw her sister frantically walking in her house, yelling her name, the anger in her sister’s voice cracked her throat, she want to scream and cry and make her sister understand but felt helpless and powerless.
Her sister swept across her house one last time and saying a frantic goodbye forever stormed out.
Sarah watched her sister walk away and fade into blackness, her body dissolved forever from her eyes. She wrapped herself in an invisible blanket and choked.