Fallen Gods

I turned around and my heart skipped a beat. The corridor was empty. There was no one there. No one had called my name but I swear I could hear his voice just now. My clammy hands dropped the keys twice while trying to open the door to the apartment. I was sure if I got in and closed the door, I could keep the voice away, and I would be safe. I was inside alright, but not safe. A cold bottle of water calmed me down enough to lock the door and wedge the table against it. The table settled into its familiar groove in the carpet and stood sentry for the night.

I still thought about the pictures and figurines of Guruvayoorappan and all those Gods who were supposed to protect me from harm. My mother had lovingly packed them in my new luggage when I left home. “If you call them with all your heart, they will hear you and keep you safe”, she repeated when I called home. I lost my moorings when I realized that they were but lifeless things that could not even protect themselves from being hurled into garbage by his furious hands. I did not think I had any tears left after that night, the night he made me throw my Gods away. But there were always more tears. Tears fell when I whimpered in the bathroom, praying he did not wake up from his drunken stupor. My eyes welled up when he soothed my hair in the morning, mumbling apologies.

I had packed my bags the day after he broke my 3rd and 4th rib. The bags lay in the back of the hall closet like a badly kept secret. The bags were out of the door with me when he broke my arm. Ashamed to call my friends, I had a room booked in the Holiday Inn. I had closed the blinds in my hotel room and wedged a table in front of the door to keep him and his fury away.
Now, when the day turns into night and when it’s really quiet outside, I hear him call my name. I hear the clinks of ice hitting the glass just before the drink is poured. I hear the utter silence before he finds me in my room. I hear the silent prayer that would escape me, imploring the deities to help me. When I walk through an empty corridor now, I break out in sweat and I hear his voice call my name.

I moved miles away, to where his voice possibly could not find me. The courts told me that he is divorced from my life and my future. I believed them and bought furniture and drapes to go with the carpet of my new apartment. I bought new clothes and even a bottle or two of liquor to entertain my new friends.

My apartment has everything. Everything, except figurines and pictures of my God’s who failed me.

 

Thank you Dinny!!

Moderation seems to be a easy enough concept which seems so hard to grasp for us all.

 

Thank you There was a 500 word limit to the competition i entered, so i had to keep it really tiny!

 

Thank you Priya!!

 

Thank you so much V. i am so happy you liked my little story.