The window that looks back
This flash essay is part of a collaborative, constrained-writing challenge undertaken by some members of the Bangalore Substack Writers Group. This month, we used the prompt, ‘A Window Into…’. At the bottom of this snippet, you’ll find links to other essays by fellow writers.
It must be night. It must be. The darkness wouldn’t make sense otherwise. I’m scared. It’s cold out here. Could somebody help me please? I don’t want to be here. It’s cold.
There isn’t even any light anywhere. Which direction should I walk in? I’m shivering. I have nowhere to go. My legs hurt. I’ve been walking for days, I think. Somebody please help me.
Ah, my eyes hurt. What is that? Something is in the distance. Is that a light? I dare not hope but I rush to it, as much as I can rush. I must get to it. My eyes will adjust by the time I get there.
When I get closer, I see it. It’s a window. A window is a home! Surely someone will help me! As I get up to it, I can see through the window. I see you there.
You rub your eyes as you yawn. I’m scared to get up close, so I watch from a distance. You seem so warm though. I want to approach but I’m so scared. But I’m so cold.
Something catches your attention and you turn to the window. I think you see me. You step closer, so I do too. Our eyes are locked into each other. For some reason, I feel a little heat rise up inside me. I shuffle closer.
You slowly extend your hand, so I reach mine forward. When you touch the window, I do too. My heart is racing. I’m scared, but I can’t look away. You run your hands through your hair, so I try to do the same. It feels greasy. I don’t like it. You cock your head at my displeasure. I turn my head so I’m still looking into your eyes. That seems important to me.
I guess you find me silly when I do that, so you laugh. Your eyes crinkle up as your smile widens. You look so happy. For the first time in a long time, the heat rises in me and I feel a smile coming. I’m scared, but I smile wide and laugh along with you.
But then your eyes widen and you scream. You scream looking at me. You’re so loud, it hurts my ears. Please stop screaming. I’m scared. Please stop.
You don’t stop, and my heart begins racing. I’m so scared. Please stop. You must stop. If you don’t stop, I have to stop you.
You don’t stop screaming. Without meaning to, I break through the window, wrapping my hands around your neck. I have to stop you. I’m scared.
Your voice catches in your throat but you’re still trying to scream. Your eyes are wide, and I can see blood pooling near the edges. Your hands hold mine, but I have to stop you. I’m scared.
Your hands become slack, and your eyes roll back. I let you go and you fall to the ground. I’m sorry, but I just had to do it. I was scared.
Thank you for reading. See other fiction here.
Stories of “A Window Into…” from Bangalore Substack Writers Group
A window into the vegetable market by Rakhi Kurup , Rakhi’s Substack
A window into permission for freedom: The FIRE Number by Shruti Soumya, Same Here
A window into the fixity and flux by Amit Charles, AC Notes
A window into a person who shivers on stage by Mihir Chate, Mihir’s Substack
A window into a life on a sabbatical by Ritika Arora, Ritika Arora – Medium
A window into bendy morals by Amit Kumar, EarlyNotes
A window into Kalimpong by Karthik Ballu, Reading This World by Karthik
A window into what makes a great Quiz Question by Rajat Gururaj, I came, I saw, I floundered
Still Looking By Spandana, Spandana’s Substack
A window into a screen-less day by Saniya Zehra Saniya’s Substack
Nice one Vaibhav. Had the necessary effect.
That ending was .. difficult. But that kinda what made it all the more meaty, I suppose...Very unexpected.