Other Side

Heavy footsteps echo from behind me as I run, and raindrops cut into my face, street lamps rushing behind in streaks as they melt into giant bright circles. I dare not glance back, do not dare to think of the tremor that lands in my gut at the silver flash of his knife in his glove-fitted hand. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and my legs turn to jelly with fear. I turn a corner into a dark alleyway, gasping for breath, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. I hit something heavy and solid, and I stop, realising with a jolt of panic that it’s a huge brick wall.

I spin around, and his hand covers my mouth, and I freeze, looking at him. He shoves me hard against the brick wall, the back of my head colliding with a dull thud. His face is inches from mine, his dark eyes boring into mine.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he says.

I take a sharp breath, and a jolt of panic runs through me as I realise I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life. My hands press against his chest in fruitless protest, as if pushing him away will save me, but he is as immovable as the brick wall behind me.

“Leave me!” I shout.

“You saw,” he says, his voice like ice. “You saw what you shouldn’t have.”

“No. Please, I didn’t—”

“You saw me kill her,” he says, raising the knife.

My hands go numb.

“Please, I won’t tell anyone! Let me go!” I push against his chest, fruitlessly trying to escape from his iron grip.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, “but you went to the police. I have no choice.”

The knife hovers above me, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

I shoot upright, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. My heart thuds in my ears, but I can still feel his icy breath on my neck and hear his icy verdict. A shuddering breath leaves my lungs.

That isn’t a dream. It’s real. It’s all real.

It’s him.

The man I see a week ago, the man who kills an innocent girl in cold blood, the man who looks me in the eyes before I run away from there.

My hands tremble as I reach for my phone on the nightstand, fumbling blindly. He can find me anytime, anywhere. I press and hold the power button until the screen lights up. I dial the number, my voice shaking.

“Hello? What about my complaint? You haven’t arrested him yet? It’s been a week!”

“Is this Aditi Sharma?”

“Yes, this is her.”

A beat.

“Miss Sharma, we’ve checked into your complaint, but there is no record of any murder as you described.”

“But I saw him! I saw him killing her! He had a knife! There was blood!”

“Ma’am, we found no body, no evidence of any sort of crime at that location.”

“I saw it! I’m sure!”

“Without any leads, we can’t do anything.”

My voice shakes.

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to do? But I saw it! He killed her!”

“I’m sorry, but that’s all we can do for now. If anything else comes to our attention, we’ll contact you. Have a good day, Miss Sharma.”

The line goes dead, and the phone slips from my hand onto the bed.

I gaze, vacant-eyed, at the blank wall, my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach. No one believes me. Not even the neighbours in this quiet building, strangers all, keeping to themselves in this dusty corner of the city I’ve barely gotten used to.

I walk slowly to the window, watching the sleepy city greet the morning sun with a yawn, a feeling of foreboding coiling in my chest.

He is watching me.

I can feel his eyes on me from the depths of the alley, lurking in the shadows and crevices of the city.

I can’t stay here, I whisper to myself.

I walk to the closet and pull out a hoodie to cover my dress. From the corner of the closet, I dig up a small envelope of emergency cash. I turn off my phone so he can’t track me and slip on my shoes. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I step out into the hall.

I have no idea where I’m going, only that I need to get away, to get as far away as I can.

I walk in a random direction, the sounds of an awakening city swirling around me—a couple walking on the opposite side of the street, a man unlocking his scooter, and the occasional shout from a passing street vendor. I try to convince myself it’s all in my head, that I’m just losing it. But then I hear the heavy footsteps approaching from behind, and a hand clamps around my forearm, its fingers digging into my skin.

I whirl around, my heart hammering.