Just to let you know, I have moved all stories to Google Docs and have changed the link on all stories before.
If you ever want to download the file, there is a link on the upper left corner that lets you do that.
Thanks
~aditya
There was a faint rustle from behind her. She did not want to look, she had heard horror stories before about those who had looked. She quickened her pace and walked on.
There was a chill breeze blowing and she pulled her jacket around her, in the hope that it would protect her from more than the cold.
The rustling continued. To her it might have sounded like a million things, the sound of a man’s footsteps on the leaves, a fearsome animal creeping up on her before devouring her.
Oh how she hated those leaves, the same leaves that had been so far covered in piles of snow and now that the snow had melted, they had been freed to set fear into the hearts of lonely women who walked by.
Her every step was followed by the dry rustle. It was late, there was no one on the streets and today of all days, she had chosen to take the road with no lights on which no one lived.
It was not as if there were no houses on that road, there were houses, and magnificent houses at that. One a fine summer day, the road reminded her of the bygone era, where everything was splendorous, where things were not as dark and gloomy as today. But today was not a bygone era, it was today, there were no one living in these houses and she was scared.
The weather in this part of the country was always fickle, it was fine one moment, where one could see countless stars and the next it would get cloudy and dark. It did.
A faint drizzle started. Any other day, she would have loved walk around in the drizzle, feeling the tiny droplets on her face and her arms as she soaked up the world around her. This was not any other day.
The houses seemed to have changed as the sun set. She had been fed stories about how the dark ones come out when the sun goes out. She wished she had never heard those stories, but she had.
“Where is the light at the end of the road when you need it,” she asked herself, as she tried to still quicken her pace. However, unless you are running there is only so fast you can walk and no more. She did not want to run, lest show to the rustling leaves behind her that she was scared.
The breeze got faster, the chill in her bones, deeper and sounds of the rustling leaves, the thing on the rustling leaves closer.
In one daring act, an act of defiance, she turned around. Everything was dark, she could hardly see a thing.
“I am not afraid, I am not scared,” she yelled into the darkness, hoping that her so called lack of fear would drive the fear away. It did not.
The rustling got closer, her foe, the leaves told her that her final moments were near.
She turned away, in the direction she was walking; she could not bear to look. Finally, in one all compassing swoop, the rustling surrounded her and she was now devoid of fear.
~aditya
