It was a winter morning. Chowki street was bustling with morning joggers, rickshaws jingling, and vendors’ chattering. Mist clads the entire area as if a pall over the treasure of mysterious gems. Or was that the mist of unsolved riddles hidden in the world? A few miles away from this hustle, a well-built two-story house with shiny wooden doors and windows was situated in the backdrop of yellowwoods.
Upstairs, on one of the glassy window panes, somebody’s small feeble palms were clearing the mist on it. Her small brown eyes glazed far onto the horizon as if she was waiting for someone to arrive. In her cream nightdress, Samantha sat near the window with a notebook and a pen.
It was the book that was the key to her conflicted mind. Perhaps it was her only friend. She has been a confusing kid since she was adopted into William’s villa. Samantha always found herself in the imbroglio, neglected by the parents who had adopted her, and she never knew what she wanted.
“William, you can’t treat me as your maid. Have some respect for me, God damn it” a lady in her 30s in her pink knee-length dress with a wine glass in one hand was walking across the hall.
Lisa was married to William at the tender age of 20. Both were busy in their own lives. Since their marriage, all they had talked about was money and property. Adopting a kid was their strategy to bridge the miles between them, but whenever they tried to tend to the situation, they only made it worse, and both were imbued with uninvited bitterness.
William, all dressed up, slammed the door, cursing himself for his decision to marry, and started in his uninvited old-fashioned metal black car. As Samantha came down for her breakfast, Lisa got hold of her wallet without even noticing her presence and stepped out, where she accompanied a man in his car. Nobody talked. Nobody cared about the other person in William’s villa. Each morning began like this for Samantha, and dusk was even worse.
13-year-old Sam, in her white and blue check uniform, started school. She had to cross the beautiful woods to reach Chowki street. At the end of the woods is a small wooden house with lots of flowers. All the way, she mumbled to herself. She questioned herself, but she always left the questions unanswered.
A 4-year-old boy in striped pyjamas waved at her as she passed the house. She smiled as usual. Sam liked him as he made her feel like someone cared for her. She was a lonely child at school and never had any companions. Children thought of her as an orphaned unfortunate witch whose company would bring ill omen to others.
On her way back home, she was joined by a young girl of her age, much prettier with a firmer face, confidence, and a crooked smile. Sam never asked where she belonged to. For Sam, that girl, who called herself Evangeline was like a mirror, where Sam could look at and pour out her uninvited emotional stress without being judged by anyone.
Evan had a calm tone, but her words were a little tricky and uninvited. It soothed Sam. She wanted to be like Evan.
“I’m not too fond of Lisa. She yells and is cheating on Williams. She never loved me. All she wants is money.”
Sam sitting on a log, looking at the ground, opened her heart up to Evan.
She smiled at her and took a fallen leaf in her hand, strolling, mumbling, “This world is full of betrayals, my sweet. The single rule which has been echoing for ages is, get rid of what we hate.”
With a treacherous uninvited smile, Evan glanced at Sam. That night, Sam locked herself in the room.
She sat on the floor with papers and crayons spread out. Like a crazy girl, she hurriedly drew a lady’s sketch on all papers and soon scratched them off with a blade.
“Hey Sam,” soon she heard a soft chuckling outside her window.
“Evan, what are you doing in the dark? Are you not scared?” panicked Sam as she went close to the window.
“Snobs like you are afraid. Look at you tearing off, Lisa. What’s your plan?” She mocked me and began laughing.
“Shut up and leave me alone, “ said Sam as she went to bed and closed her eyes tightly.
It was raining outside. The whole atmosphere was darkened and uninvited and melancholic. Lisa enjoyed her wine as usual.
“Sam came downstairs and locked the door. I am going out. Sam, where are you?” agitated, Lisa began to walk upstairs.
Sam, in her white nightdress, walked downstairs.
“Why don’t you ever reply, you wretch?” Said Lisa as she slapped Sam.
As Lisa passed the door, Sam smashed the wine bottle on her head and slew her all over the body.
“Evan, what have you done to Lisa. She is dead. Oh, God.”
Sam, all of a sudden, became panicky and questioned Evan.
“Lisa, oh, God. Sam, why did you do this?” William burst into the house, all soaked from the rain outside.
“No, William, it was Evan. Look, she has got a piece of the bottle. She killed her.” Saying this, Sam started fidgeting.
“What are you talking about, my child?”
That was all that a confused and devastated William could say, and Sam fainted.
Sam struggled to open her eyes. She could hear uninvited murmurings and the sound of the fan. She could see a white room.
“How are you feeling now, Sam?” asked a doctor in his 40s, checking Sam’s pulse.
“Better. Where is William?”
“Oh, he will join you later. Do you still see Evan?” he asked her curiously, correcting his half-moon spectacles.
Sam began to get up and walked towards the window.
She looked far into the ground and replied, “Not now, doctor.”
He walked out of the room, and the board on the wall read “Multiple personality disorder.”