Tuesday, April 15, 2008

"It hit the house"

I came across a fiction writing exercise somewhere. The task was to write a piece based on or featuring or inspired by this sentence: "It hit the house". I took on the exercise and the story below is the outcome :)
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Mrs Sobers shoved me out of the house.

I had been with them for about 6 months. Her son brought me home one bright summer day and told Mrs Sobers I would be staying with them from then on. Mrs Sobers tried to sound enthusiastically welcoming. I could tell right then that she wasnt really excited about having me stay with them. But it wasnt until later that I realized that she actually detested me. I also figured why - she was jealous how attached her son was to me - we went out together every evening, I spent my nights by his side and just palming me brought a smile to his face every single time.

During my first week at their house, she flashed a mechanical smile whenever she saw us nestled together. In a matter of weeks, the smile turned into a scrowl, a scorn or a scream. She was adept at finding some reason to blow off her top and scream everytime she spotted us being chummy. She did smile at me on rare occassions (only when her son was around to see) when she wanted to patch up a tiff with her son, but it was as affected a smile as smiles can get. She also tried to keep us away from each other by sending him off to run errands whenever she got a chance. I chose to endure and forgive - I was just happy to be with Gary.

As things got worse still, in ways I dont wish to put to words, I should have expected it to happen. It did - on a cold and rainy October evening. She decided that was all she would have of me and forced me out of the house. I waited outside wishing her son would come running out to hoist me back in. He didnt. I dont blame him. Mrs Sobers had him pinned with her yells. They were more menacing than ever before. I could hear them from outside.

No one came for me that entire night. I found shelter under a large shrub, and sat there wet, dirty and huddled up.

Two more days in abandon. Long enough to unfold and inflate feelings of pent up anger against her. Painful enough to resolve to seek vengeance. Paulo Coelho, in his book, 'The Alchemist', said, "When you really want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it". I believe in it. I wanted to avenge my abuse and I only had to wait for the universe to work out the plan for me.

Fate is merciful and the universe is fair - my journey to revenge started just a day later.

Early in the morning of the third day, someone spotted me rundown and took me home. I went readily - I knew he was to be my tool for revenge. He was away most of morning that day, but he came back home in the evening. I tried to look my best - I needed to entice my tool into doing my job. He took me out the same evening to meet a friend of his.

"Dude, look what I got", he said to his friend, referring to me.

"Cool, dude! Nice ball! Where did you get it from?", his friend reacted.

"I found it, man. Under some bushes near that foreigner people's house where my mom works."

"Cool, lets use this ball then, its newer than the one we use."

"Ya, has a nice seam, will swing better. I bat first. You batted first last time."

"ok ok"

I almost blushed in excitement that the moment was not too far away.

The game of cricket began.

Murali's first throw was an illegal delivery ('no-ball', as they call it). Sunil played defensive and blocked me on the second.

Third time lucky, they say. The shot was a slog and I soared. Higher and higher every second... until I had cleared the tree tops... until I could see Mrs. Sobers' house.

I hung there for a second. Just long enough for a glimpse at the two agape mouths below. Then I swooped towards my target. I gathered momentum as I recollected how she flung me out and let the rain slush gather on me.

I plunged through the fiberglass bay window and shattered her most cherished possession in the house - her ultra expensive copper and white porcelain Ming vase.

Revenge is sweet they say. So it is.
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11 comments:

sandeep said...

good suspense built up, interesting choice of names... Gary Sobers :)

Harini Sridharan said...

Thanks! :)

Trust you cricket fan to get that! you were the only one among three who read the post to figure out yourself that the boy's name alludes to the famous bowler.

Also the names Murali and Sunil :).

vinod Kumar said...

Irrespective of where you take your writing talents to....you already have a nice talent of creating scenes and blending human actions in it...

your avid reader!

Harini Sridharan said...

Thank you, Vinod! :)

bubbles said...

hee hee. I didnt get the cricketer connection until I read the comments :-D

Nice suspense... looks like you are following on the steps of O Henry/Roald Dahl... :)

Harini Sridharan said...

True, true... Roald Dahl it is - my Godfather of fiction writing :)

Akhila said...

this story is by far the best...
these unsuspected depths in you....

Akhila said...

this story is by far the best...
these unsuspected depths in you....

Harini Sridharan said...

Thanks, Akhila! :)

LifeIsAGame said...

This one is really good.. initially I thought it was a dog :).. until later.. amazing flow.. I am totally in love with you :)

Harini Sridharan said...

:) thanks, babe >:D<