Artists look up to Leonardo da Vinci. Writers look up to Shakespeare. But a teenager who lives in Ram Nagar, looks up to a fictional character, Hercule Poirot. Agatha Christie had succeeded at inspiring Zia with her most famous detective character. But just not that, Agatha also presented Zia with an unusual fear. As pages of creative murder turn, the curtains of her bedroom are drawn aside in fear of finding hidden murderers. Zia didn’t even leave a dusty corner. The first ritual taken care of by Zia was checking behind curtains and under the beds, every time she enters a room. Wow! That sure is a weird habit and a wonderful target for a murderer. Something very queer in her life began with a wonderful sunset. Zia, having unloaded the burden of her heavy homework, sat down in a cozy corner with an Agatha Christie book. Plunged into the mysterious world, little did she take notice of her life-changing happenings in the cruel world. A creaking door snapped the bridge to her imagination in half, leading her to fall back to reality. Did she check behind the curtains? Did she she look behind the doors and under the bed? The loneliness surely didn’t brighten up the situation. She froze all of a sudden, having just been struck by a thunderous thought.
“Manu!” she called out frantically. Where was her brother? There, her mother is going to yell at her head off at Zia for not taking good care of him. There was a serious rush to her brother’s room. The gaming console and his Marvel figurines were scattered on the floor. Zia felt her heart hammering rapidly. Them echoed through the house, a shriek overflowing with agony. Zia ran back to her reading spot and found her book neatly placed on the bookshelf.
“Manu?” she stuttered, “Are you playing a prank?” She walked towards the couch and quickly looked behind. In the tremendous shock of finding someone crouched behind the couch, she whipped out a razor, that she had always carried with her, and slashed, whoever it was, blindly. Zia opened her eyes reluctantly and looked at the terrible sight, with horror.
It was Manu.
What had she done? Her reflexes were the culprit of an irreversible mistake. But as she looked closer, Zia came upon a strange knife, driven straight into Manu’s stomach. No, something wasn’t right! Who had done that to her brother? Zia jumped startled, as something wet trickled her feet. Blood. Her brother was a bloody mess. Pale-faced, she couldn’t bring herself to shed even a few tears.
Suddenly, someone tried to cover her mouth and bind her hands. Remember the razor she held tightly in her hand? Without a second thought, she pushed it into the stranger’s chest. With a loud thud, the stranger fell back.
As Zia watched in horror, the intruder stumbled out of the house.
She sat down to weep, but she sneezed unexpectedly. Her phone beeped and displayed a message.
“God bless you!” ©
-B
