It's 11 at night. I can hear the absurd silence in my room. My bed is perfectly made up. My table heaved with books and other stuff, just the way I used to keep it. The room is all dark and no light. The door's locked. It's been this way since that very day. And always will be.

I go out of my room and into the living room. I can hear my parents’ shouting at each other. I can hear my sister whispering to her boyfriend over phone. I can see my brother inebriated from all those narcotics he took. I can hear their thoughts out loud. I can see deep into their eyes. I can feel them inside of me.
But there are things I cannot do. I cannot come back. I cannot move forth. I’m just stuck here, somewhere in the halfway.

I stumble out of my house. My limbs have been feeling a bit too fragile since that gaga day. So it’s a bit hard for me to walk. It’s probably because I broke the limbs, bone by bone, piece by piece .I mean it’s quite an obvious thing to happen if you jump off from an 11 storied skyscraper. I’m sure they would have compared me to the Hunchback of Notredame if I had come back in this condition. The thought of me walking like this in a real body makes me laugh and cry at the same time. What would she think of me then? Would she love me anyway? Would anyone? Oh, I don’t think so…

I’ve got 30 minutes left for my sanction of the day to begin. But now that the “Visit to my Family” was over, what do I do here?

So well, I decide to just walk through the streets. It’s fun how no one can see me and I can see everyone and everything. It’s the same old road, the same old lamp-posts. I know this road just so well. This lane, that house, that street- everything. And her. She was the one I knew best. She was the one who had me at hello. She was the one to give me butterflies. She was the only one who had wept their heart out after I went away. She was the one. My one. God, why did I leave her?

Oh right, God too is angry at me. And I am alone.

She is right there, standing at the balcony of her house. Her hair’s flying in the wind. She looks so pulchritudinous, so amazing, so fragile. I wish I could run up to her and hug her from the back just like I used to. I wish I was never dead. I wish I had not been selfish. I wish I wasn’t on toxins. I wish…

But why should I? I don’t deserve to after what I had done to her. Now that she was there, I could feel a bizarre heart pain even though I don’t actually have a heart. But the agony struck me more than the inhuman punishment I get everyday. But it was alright. It was what I had chosen.

Does she still miss me? Or does she have someone else to endow her love to? The idea of someone else tore my chimerical heart out of its place and ripped it into two. But who was I to think about that? I DON’T DESERVE HER. NO, I DON’T.

I go and stand beside her. She feels the zephyr of my existence and moves away. I laugh. But she doesn’t understand that. She goes into the room and her phone rings. I wonder why she isn’t receiving. I know it’s her paramour. Then why? I wish I could ask her. The phone rings a few more times. She ignores, turns off the light and goes to bed with a blanket wrapped around her. I lie beside her. And embrace her. But she doesn’t get the hang. She doesn’t.

It’s 11:55. Five minutes to go for my sojourn to end and my sanction to begin. I plant a kiss on her forehead and entangle my hands in her beauty hair. I look at her for the last time and whisper in her ears, “ I don’t know when I will come here again. But I know when I will, I’ll find you for sure, my love. Take care. I love you.” I wonder if she heard me.

And I take off. Through the clouds, over dear Dacca. Oh I miss this city so much. But missing something is worthless if I cant ever get it. When did I become one of those kinds of people? The kind who end up their lives within the blink of an eye!

Maybe it was the right thing to do. Or maybe not. Who knows?

The thought makes me smile with my surreal face. My surreal life.