Title: the CALL…

Genre: Fiction/Short-Story

The cell phone vibrated in the middle of the night, flashing a blue light on its screen. A frosty sensation ran down her spine as she lay awake on the bed. The agitating thoughts were troubling her. She looked towards the clock and then turned towards the window. It was 2:00 in the morning. The night was completely sheathed with darkness different from the usual nights. Even the moon and the stars were engulfed in the extreme blackness. Moreover, it was pouring heavily outside. The window panes swung with the cold gust of wind that swept into the room, ruffling the curtains along the way.

The cellphone continued vibrating on the bed table, waiting to be answered. She got up from the bed and placed her foot on the icy floor of the room. She shivered as she took the first step. It seemed the cold and wet weather had aggravated the fear that was trapped inside her heart. Though she picked up the mobile, a hesitation to answer it lingered in her fingers. She was scared to death.

Even in the gloominess of the situation, she appeared extremely beautiful. The paleness of her face could not overshadow her sensuousness. Her hair was disheveled and the tousled curls touched her collar bones. One of the straps of her white satin negligee fell off her shoulders, hanging by the rear edge of her arms, as she tucked her hairs away from her eyes. The other strap fought hard to hold the weight of the dress onto her curvaceous body while exposing the cleavage of her voluptuous bosoms. Her spotless fair skin glowed in the darkness under the dim luminescence of the crescent. It seemed the darkness of the night had failed to dominate the rawness of her persona.

“He..e..ll…ooo “ the silent ambiance all of a sudden reverberated with her soft sound. She paused for the voice on the other end.

“Hi Misha”

She at once recognized the voice. How could she not? It was etched in every micro-cell of her heart and soul, even after twenty long years.

“He survived. I am bringing him home.”

A tear emerged from the corner of her eye…a sense of reverence for him filled within her… She knew that he could never change…could never put anything before her priorities…could never stop being the silent watcher. Even now he neither asked of her state nor replied about his situation. He knew perfectly what she wanted to hear to calm her senses and so he came from nowhere to deliver her the message.

“You…???You were there…Oh my God.” a shock and surprise trailed off those words.

“I was the pilot. I am sorry. I should have known.”

“How could you? But you kept your promise…as always…” A promise was all that had kept his memories alive in her heart…a vow of HERS before HIS…a pact of living for her before living for himself, were the last words that had abridged their worlds before the storm of separation swept them away from each other.

Her voice trembled as each word left her lips laden with an urge for his touch. It was wrong for her to think of him in that way. She belonged to someone else.

“Is he hurt? I saw the news. I know very few survived the crash. But I never knew you would…”.

Before she could complete the sentence, he interrupted.

“He has your eyes- bluish green- as beautiful as yours…Ryan. Those were the ones that made me fall for you. I have loved you so much for so long.”

He could listen to the change in the pace of her heartbeat. He was familiar with every high and low note of her heart. She was like a novel to him that he had read over and over without losing even a trickle of interest…had memorized every character in it…had yearned to see his name written on at least one of those pages.

The locked memories suddenly came alive around her. Misa wanted to relive those moments, embraced in his arms. The worst phase appeared to withdraw its clutches from her life. She had faltered for once in her life…failed to stand against her family…floundered to prove that the guy she had chosen was the one who could keep her happy. The outcome had been severe…loss of the one true love…infidelity of her husband…divorce during pregnancy…raising child all on her own…and now fear of losing the one reason of her life in a crash. However, now listening to the sound of the long-lost love, she felt peace within her…as if the thirst of twenty years of struggles was all at once quenched with that husky voice. She knew her silent angel was bringing her son back to her. A dire longing for the look of two most important persons of her life was what she awaited.

“I never stopped…loving…” she said at last but it was too late to reach the other end. The call dropped. Hastily she opened her call log and dialed the last received number. All she could hear was a switch off automated message. She hung up and called again and again and again but to no success. He was there with her for a moment and then lost once again. She assured herself that he was on his way to her, bringing Ryan to her. And so she waited for them…yet again…

The bell on the entrance jingled as I opened the door of the café and entered for my morning coffee.

“Jack..the usual one…black without any add-ons…”

I sat on one of the chairs that were arranged in front of the counter and picked up the newspaper that lay before me. The front page was filled with the single most devastating news.

FLIGHT 6F577 CRASHED BRUTALLY KILLING ALL BUT ONE OF THE PASSENGERS BOARDING IT. The survival of a teenage boy, Ryan, is next to a miracle. He was found safe and sound, without even a scratch, in the cockpit. The pilot-in-command showcased utmost bravery by saving the boy while sacrificing his life in the process. The last call was traced from his cell to Ms. Misha…


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