I was a twenty-four-year- old adult, and I had just received my two-year salary. I came home feeling jolly. Suddenly, as I took out the money from my pocket, I saw a pair of eyes at the window. I quickly kept the money in my cupboard and went to investigate. As I closed the cupboard door, I looked back just to be smashed on my head with a lampshade by a person I vaguely recognized. I was instantly killed. After a while, I woke up and flew out of my dead remains. There was no sign of my killer. Right then and there, I vowed to myself that I would not rest till I found my killer and had him executed. The next morning, I was wandering around the street right in front of many people. It seemed as though they couldn’t see me. Suddenly, a little boy who couldn’t be older than ten pointed me out. “What is that?!” he screeched, in a petrified voice. For the first time since I died, I looked at myself. I was a monster!
I quickly ran and hid behind the nearest dumpster. By then, the little child had overcome his fright and walked over toward the ghost. He stood beside me, with his jaw falling out in awe. “Are you a ghost?...” he was quivering with fear. “Yes,” I replied while trying to avoid his gaze. Then suddenly, it hit me. If he was the only one who could see me, maybe he could help me on my quest. “I am trying to find out who murdered me. Can you help me on my adventure?” I desperately inquired, “You are the only one who can see and help me.” “Okay, but first we need to get back to my house in case someone hears me talking to you.” As we headed back, he explained that he would tell the police that his friend had been murdered. He would show them the house, and they would try to find the murderer. I would have to tell him all the details about the person I saw before I died. My only job would be to sit and wait.
“He was a short fat male, with a mask around his nose. He had greenish-blue eyes and killed me using the Lighto company lampshade. He walked with a slight limp on the right foot,” I described to the boy. “What was your name?” he inquired. “My name was Madan. What’s yours?” I was curious too. “I’m Mehul,” he answered. I found myself a nice and quiet spot in the corner of a park to sit and wait. Meanwhile, Mehul was telling his parents that he would be out for a while and would be back by nightfall. His parents gave him a little bit of money for food, and he set off on his escapade. The police station was fourteen blocks away and was a fifteen-minute walk. After reaching, he explained the case to the nearest officer. “Where are your parents?” the officer questioned. “They have gone to Scotland for a month while my grandmother is sick,” he lied. He explained the case to the officer, and they set off toward my house.
Once they reached, I decided to take the chance and spy on them through the window. “Drops of blood on the ground!” the officer exclaimed while Mehul was cowering in fear at the sight. They led towards the door of my neighbour. Then I thought, “Didn’t my neighbour Prajwal have green-ish blue eyes?” I beckoned Mehul to come towards me. I told him to tell the officer about it. Suddenly, the officer bellowed something about a piece of a knife outside Prajwal’s house. Mehul and I immediately rushed to the spot. Slowly, the officer forced the door open. There he was! My murderer lying on the couch, fast asleep still wearing that mask with the other piece of the knife on the side table. The officer woke him up and instantly handcuffed him. Strangely though, Prajwal seemed to be able to see me as he was looking in my direction with wide eyes. The officer pushed him into the police car, I snuck in, and we drove back.
Once we reached, Prajwal was taken to the interrogation chamber. The officer kept hitting him with a whip while asking him questions. As soon as Prajwal stopped answering, he was hit like a prisoner until he continued. After the extraction of information, the officer explained to Mehul that Prajwal had just lost his job and couldn’t pay off the mortgage of his house, so he tried to get the money by robbing people. It was decided that for committing this crime he would be executed the following day. Just then, I remembered to ask Mehul to ask the officer where Prajwal had kept my money. The officer said that it was on the 3rd shelf of a cupboard which was beside the TV. Later in the day, we went to Prajwal’s house and retrieved the money. I gifted the stack of one hundred dollar bills to Mehul for helping me find my murderer.
The following day, Mehul and I came to watch the execution. Prajwal screamed, thrashed, and begged for mercy while the police dragged him to the noose. I closed my eyes as I did not wish to see the execution. We went to the officer immediately after it was done to thank him for his help and support in finding my murderer. Mehul gave him two hundred dollars from his stash and we left. I watched Mehul over the months spend his money on various items which he kept in a secret stash in his room which his parents did not know about. These items consisted of notebooks, headlamps, and many other tools that most detectives used. He even went to a detective school. Mehul died forty-two years ago, and I still miss him. To this day, I still wander aimlessly about the same house where I was murdered.
Written by:
Pranav Mekaraj
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