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  • moitreyee 3d

    Julie lights the cigarette with the matchstick's fire fierce than the crooked motives of the wicked imposters. She never holds on the smoke but lets it slide like people who never holds on feelings. Her kind of shade is red, diverse in itself. She's defiant in rage, tender in love and malice in hatred.

    "You shouldn't be smoking at this age. " I stated in antipathy to smoking for I onced heard Dad saying, " No one who really wants to live longer will smoke. "
    Julie laughed deciphering what I meant. She said, " Don't be so childish. I always have many more reasons to die than to live. "

    "Whom will I live with if I live without you ? " I gazed in oblivion.

    She turned her face away perhaps to hide what the eyes had displayed by then.
    "Our head is too smart yet every part of the body is too foolish." I stated.

    Julie grabbed strength and parted her lips in dry trial, "So the parts grow endlessly, crossing edges, bulging over limits, not knowing where to stop before they shatter. "

    "Does head know where to stop ?" I enquired.
    "Not really. Head doesn't know where to stop its imagination but it has known the limits of the actions it orders us." Julie clarified.
    "You're too wise for me." I stared in awe. Julie raised her eyebrows rolling up her eyes, denying my praise.
    "You're artistic. I'm realistic. We are two distinct sides of the same coin, intertwined and happy. " Julie smiled.

    I suspended my breath in conflict, gripping courage when suddenly I heard a wrecked rhyme . A sound of a broken flower vase triggered my bones. I felt a fear howling through corridors of my ribs. With heavy downpours of rain outside, footsteps around the house mingled to engrave rhymes of thunder throughout the dining.

    "Aura, hide in the basement in haste !" Julie directed. Before taking the pace, my pupils dilated in anxiety, "What about you ?" I asked.
    "I'll handle this. I assume there are four men." Julie clarified .
    "How can you be so certain ?" I enquired.
    "In the lawn , I have intentionally asked the gardener to dig small craters such that I can get the sound of footsteps whenever they step in stagnant water during the rain.
    There are sounds of heavy tread of men in the lawn. "
    "Shall I call for help now ?" I asked.
    "Do whatever you want. First reach the basement and wait for me. If I don't reach there within ten minutes , go to the panic room and inform the cops." Julie directed.
    "What do you mean by panic room ?" I asked in astonishment.

    "Oh I've missed to inform you that Dad introduced me with a secret room in the basement, a month ago.It has a tunnel exit leading to the police station. In the basement, you'll find a bookshelf beside a dressing table. There's a book among 150 novels and poetry books named " The Auroras of Autumn" by Wallace Stevens in the bottom right corner. It has a key hidden in it. Take the key out and insert it in a peacock shaped lock beside the mirror. Be careful. There will be many more locks beside the mirror including an owl, a pigeon and a parrot lock. A wrong step can be very harmful for anyone. The mirror will slide open leading you to a room after you insert the key to the correct lock. " Julie instructed.

    "No. I'm not going anywhere without you. " I refused in a stubborn tone.
    "Be quick. There's no time for me to bear your tantrums now." Julie clarified in disgust turning her spine to my wish. I abided by her and went down the stairs to the basement.

    - Moitreyee Bhaduri

    -To be continued.

    @zohiii @jewelskhan75

    to read all chapters, click on #thirdfloor

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    Chapter - 7

    The Panic Room

    Moitreyee Bhaduri

  • moitreyee 1w

    Curtains shivered as nights had crawled upto closets to hinder motions. Rain played chaotic rhymes of a mortal song. I gazed at burials of dark and prayed for chimes.

    "Julie , I think this time it won't be a cakewalk to escape those abductors' reach." I stated. Julie laughed.

    "Isn't it absurd for one to consider enemies as weak ? After all we are just teens." I smeared fear and doubt upon my words while watching Julie search for her Taurus Judge.

    "What if Alexander Pope wouldn't have dared to write his first poem, 'Ode to Solitude' considering his age to be just 12 ?" Julie asked. She added, "Would he be this famous by now if he considered merely his age to be the hindrance behind his ability ?"

    I stared in awe still the fright gripped my spines straight.
    " I have no ambiguity on your ability. It's just I'm greatly anxious . Writing a book is different than fighting alone with a group of imposters. "
    "Trust me on this, Aura. We will be fine. " Julie convinced.
    "Why don't you call for help ? This is too unrealistic to fight alone. We aren't characters of a Bollywood film. " I clarified.
    "Don't you remember everytime they give a feeble warning , one of ten is real and rest is a myth to baffle us ? " Julie asked with a mellow logic. She recalled, "The last time when we informed the cops and they were here , we faced no such trouble and the cops were highly disappointed for wasting their time.
    They would consider this as another prank been played. The last time those imposters were witty enough to ruin their trust on us. "

    She loaded the gun and kept her finger off the trigger. Her firm eyebrows rested down her pixie hair longing for eyelashes to alarm an attack. In hymns of solemnity , her brown pupils were as dedicated as my father's. The ripped jeans and her spaghetti top blended the look of a rebel in her.

    I was proficient in bringing drastic changes to solemn situations. I queried , " Julie, What of sin have I committed to not get peace anywhere in my life ? "

    "Peace is just an illusion. An asymptomatic illusion. Do you think you can be satisfied with peace ?
    People can be satisfied with chaos. " Julie clarified.

    "Whatever we get satisfied with is called peace ! " I exclaimed.

    "No. Peace is a mirage. You have wanted to stay home in peace the day before. Now, you want to go out and meet your friends to get rid of your stress. People can't be satisfied with something forever. Satisfaction is build inside, else it happens but temporarily. "

    She had adeptly analyzed my crave for meeting Alex in such a thrilled situation yet I shaped my stubborn castles responding, "Peace isn't a mirage. It's like the climate that changes but exists. "

    "If it's like climate or changes, there's no point in its existence. If it burns in the summer, it freezes in cold. If it feels the spring, it must not love the rain. Peace should be constant. " Julie resonated.

    "Peace is always constant in the way it is felt, but it exists in distinct forms. People too change, but they exist. " I added.

    "Planning is never an execution. There's no 100% chance of an event in general. Normal distribution says it is about 28% for general standard deviation.
    Nobody is in peace. It is just an idealistic form of happiness." Julie determined.

    "A result is always an illegal breed of a planned execution. If the event turns out to be unplanned, it is called love. " I blabbered scratching phrases of my romantic novels.

    "Well, I'm not getting satisfaction now. I need to smoke." Julie laughed grabbing a cigarette from Dad's pack of fags in the drawer.

    -Moitreyee Bhaduri

    -to be continued

    @zohiii @jewelskhan75 :)

    to read all parts click on #thirdfloor

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    CHAPTER - 6

    The Rebel

    Moitreyee Bhaduri

  • moitreyee 2w

    Alex's presence in my life was inevitable. I wanted to love him in a way the woman would want to live before an untimely death chokes her breath. Julie's query wasn't less than an utter nightmare for she owned a motherly temper.
    My lips parted in vague terror, " Yes. " I inhaled the part of the zephyr which seemed bold to me saying, "Yes. There's a boy named Alex in our class. Believe me, I bear no such feelings for him. It's only that I like his name. Don't you remember mom had a similar name ? "

    Julie was bound to trust me on this for I rarely lied in a sentence where I mentioned mom so far. I cursed myself for this infidelty, querying myself in mind , "How far will I need to go for love ?" I buried the context with a fatigue sigh.

    My room was opposite to Julie's though I usually spent half of my time in her place , quarter in the atelier and never returned to my bedroom unless I was sleepy. Julie's room was near the library inspite of the fact that she loved arms more than books. Dad had handed his own responsibility of protecting me on Julie at a very young age. I wondered how Dad could inspect Julie's shooting skills years back when she was only ten. Perhaps they both were mysterious human beings. Sometimes I gulped an ambiguity in a peristalsis wondering if Dad had an illegal child no one other than Julie.

    I heard the dining room telephone ringing. Julie assumed, "It's time for Dad to call, isn't it ? " I jumped off from the sofa and ran down the stairs. "Hey Dad ! How have you been ? Are you taking food on time ?" I enquired in utter zeal not verifying if it was really a call from Dad.
    "Hello, Miss Aurora Bliss. Your voice sounds so sweet in such tensed enthusiasm. " A husky voice spoke in a creepy tone.
    Such weird words seemed familiar yet frightful. Many a times some men had tried to kidnap me since childhood which was not at all shocking, for Dad's job demanded such risks. The shocking part was in the way they had turned pervert before an year. With a fake confidence I answered, " Who's this creep speaking ? "
    "Perhaps I'm someone in need of you since years. " He resonated with a creepier base.

    Julie reached to this event a bit later, for my pace in excitement was as swift as a rabbit hopping for carrots. The darkest horizons of my pupils amidst the innocent white deviated it's accustom and turned dormant. I stared at her , with bereft of words yet a plethora of statements in my pupils. She had assumed by then. "I guess there's the creepy man again .Let me handle this. " saying this she laid the hold of the telephone.

    "Yes . Are you here with your feeble warnings again ? Listen we don't fear you. You are a putrid thing. " Julie mocked in conviction.
    " You are a manly shit. Buzz off and hand over the phone to Miss Aurora. " the man demanded in pride with a sexist remark.

    "You are going to repent for this. " Julie smirked.

    - to be continued

    - Moitreyee Bhaduri

    @zohiii @jewelskhan

    to read all parts click on #thirdfloor

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    Chapter - 5


    Moitreyee Bhaduri

  • moitreyee 2w

    Six years hence I'm sixteen. Julie is fifteen and a half yet half more than what I am. She has mastered firing the Taurus Judge 410, Glock 19 and Sig Sauer P226. She has inherited skills of my father unlike me.
    Her socialising skills are awkward yet she has known people more. The way people cast mere reflections as a part, veiling themselves as a whole.
    I have seen her playing the role of a saviour many a times.

    Swallowing a shallow charm of silhouettes, I wrote to conjure a bolt from the blue, stealing metaphors and blushing at ones that crave to last longer. Julie examined my state asking, " Aura ? Answer me something. What so far makes you blush often ?"

    "I'm more into the love stories I write. " With a content sigh, I swallowed my broken smile.

    " Someday they will make you believe in fiction too." Julie stated.

    "Love isn't fictitious. I can love. I believe in love. " I protested in uncertainty.

    "Yeah you will unless you face it. Someone's always there to make you believe it's fictitious in your first attempt, making it your last. " Julie paused with a fatigue breath.

    "People turn sceptic with play of events. I will make you believe in it. Stop talking like old people first." I resolved.

    "Old people are never wrong. The more self proclaimed lovers try to impress you, the more they shall depress you one day.
    Expecting someone to love you the way you have loved is like pouring the oozed out blood back to wound." Julie persuaded.

    I refused with a negative nod turning my spine to her wit. While querying my own reality, I hid the petty words of romance between pleats of my skirt. Julie glanced in haste at a name in the drama. She spotted something intriguing in the pages.

    "What's that Aura ? Show it to me. " Julie asked.
    "That's just one of those shits I write about love. Nothing much. You won't be interested." I clarified.
    "Let me see that . " Julie approached me with a firm act to snatch.
    "Hey don't try to be too bossy ! I'm your boss. Your stern boss ! Step back little girl." I satired in pride.
    "Boss my foot. Give that ! " Julie snatched the page from my defence.

    She read,
    "Aura : Alex ? Can I create anything within myself and watch it grow ?

    Alex : Yes you can create either an art or an ache and watch it grow within you.

    Aura : How can people create an ache within oneself ?

    Alex : One who creates an ache within oneself is same as the vagabond wolf who falls in love with the distant moon.

    Aura : Do you mean buried love and echoed ones ?

    Alex : Yes.

    Aura : Alex ? What will you build if you have the power to create something beyond art ?

    Alex : A world for us, within us.

    Aura : Alex. "

    Julie stared at me with almost every emotion on earth. She stepped nearer , "Isn't there a guy named Alex in our class ? "

    - Moitreyee Bhaduri

    -to be continued

    @zohiii @jewelskhan75 :)

    to read all parts click on #thirdfloor

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    Chapter - 4


    Moitreyee Bhaduri

  • moitreyee 2w

    The door creaked open with a pace less than mine. My temper lacked longevity. This time it bloomed pink in blue spring. The stern red along my chubby cheeks turned homely enough for Julie to rest her homeless bruises.

    "Accustoms are chaotic orders. " I murmured grabbing visions.

    "Hello Julie. Your state seems a pity thing and your attire, a facade. Solace never restrains me to speak the truth. Apologies ." I murked courtesy rudely as I not seldom had difficulty in appearing good.

    "A facade ! Yes. A positive one. You are likely to overcast courtesy with stern clouds in your phrases, don't you ?" Julie smiled.

    "Do you think your predictions are logical enough to impress me ? " I smirked.

    "I'm not here to impress you. I'm here to make you learn what really an impression is. You are cordial but your hindrance is in the way of expressing it. " Julie clarified.

    "Expression is a vast plain with fault as its margin. To be its prisoner is always not a choice but a play of events." I paused. She learned. I repeated, " I am named as Aurora Bliss as Dad has believed me to be the bliss of dawn until my mom dies for saving me. "
    "For saving you ? What do you mean ? " Julie enquired with a tensed voice and curious eyes.
    "I'm not accustomed to disclose details to a stranger." I answered veiling my tears.

    Meanwhile Dad interrupted watching our conversation digging past.
    "Julie ! Aren't you hungry ? First dress yourself in a clean attire I have already bought for you and check into your new room near the library. Aurora will show you the way. "

    I stood with doubtful eyes facing Dad, "When have you arranged all of it ? "

    "It's when you have been painting for six hours in the atelier last day." There was a chortle in the room for Dad considered his deed as a savage blow and tried to look as wise as Holmes .

    "Huh ! You haven't ever worked so hard even for my birthday last year. Don't you remember ? You almost have returned from work after a day. " I complained.

    " Work load honey ! " He laughed . Julie laughed more but veiled it instantly .
    "Congrats ! You have a partner by now to laugh with while parodying me . Argh !" I grumbled.
    "I'm bound to show you the room. Come . " I gestured Julie towards her room. She clutched my hand, "What were you saying before about the mishap ? "
    I smiled, "You are yet to face a lot of facades. " Silence prevailed. Suspicion followed.

    -Moitreyee Bhaduri

    -to be continued.

    to read all parts click on #thirdfloor

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    Chapter - 3


    Moitreyee Bhaduri

  • moitreyee 2w

    I recalled the instance I had asked Dad to bring a Mom the day before. His vision held me in tears, mine in oblique fears. I did bite my nails and peep through curtains longing for his return. Every dark hour of his absence was a nightmare scratching bare walls to reach me.
    Dad had a weird response to everything. Julie was one of such response and an utter disappointment to me. At that instance, my reactions were a rocket science. More than being bewildered, I had to determine whether to be sympathetic to Julie or furious on Dad. Henceforth, I retched out mere rage on both.

    "You can't be the substitute of a mother. You are a fool to sell yourself. You are an orphan notwithstanding you still has a mother. People like you can die for money." I screamed at her in disgust and shoved my flames on Dad, "You never understood me Dad ! I wanted a Mom not a maid. How would a girl of my age be so proficient in raising me ? I just wanted someone to love me as mom would if she was alive. "

    Dad had replied with a persuading tone, " Aurora , listen girl, to bring you a mother I needed to marry again which for me was a suffocation . After Alexa's death, it was difficult for me to handle myself still I tried my best merely for your well being. "
    Silence followed as he gulped a glass of water that didn't seem less than a relief. He urged further,
    "Julie is a matured child. Perhaps more mature than you are . Do you know why ?"

    By the time, I realised my impression was at stake before an outsider. I clutched his hand and brought him to a room adjacent to the dining.
    He giggled and explained, " You have never faced the struggle she has gone through right since her birth. Poverty is a prison to desires and a disease to dreams of the ones with no shed. She has never been raised in the way you have been. She has four more siblings and being the eldest , she has taken care of all . I guess you believe by now, how proficient she can be in her job. Be kind to her. She will be your company in my absence. "

    Dad hugged me saying , " Losing one of your parents is pathetic. Losing both of them in their presence is a tragedy."

    -Moitreyee Bhaduri

    - to be continued

    to read all parts click on #thirdfloor

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    Chapter - 2

    The Tragedy

    Moitreyee Bhaduri

  • moitreyee 3w

    Somedays I poke my heart veiling a will to inspect if it's still beating. It sounds like a clock that bounds my life with mere time. I raise my finger before my nostrils and wonder if my breath is lively. It feels like a forbidden breeze, barely recalled. I forage for a pillar to grab an insight to trust least on visages.

    My days are mostly like the surreal oasis on pretext of a rust. I love thrusting myself against the wall when people asks me for a fight. When I walk on such a verse I often stumble on an untimely twist. A twist I never pray for.

    Julie is our housemaid by profession. To me, she's more than my family. There are people with paralyzed minds, I own a paralyzed life. Dad stays abroad etching an obvious concern in me. I have never seen Mom except in photographs. The only one I have to talk with, is Julie. I remember the first day of her service as a housemaid. Never have I ever loathed someone more than her on the first day of her arrival. I laugh while recalling it.

    I had seen Dad carrying a girl in his arms six years back. A girl in a tattered frock, of an age as vulnerable as mine, was raising her worn out hands to greet me as he approached. I stood with a rivolting grace to escape her pace , tugging my doll towards the margin of my envy's reach. The first doubt I baked in mind was, " Is dad bringing a more loving daughter than me ? "
    The second was , " Will I have to share my part of his affection with this brat ? "

    Like most other aristocrat kids, I had a similar prejudice towards anything that looked badly off, from a severely small age. My Dad made her sit on his furnished chair with enough affection to trigger my jealousy. I stared at her worn out skin and smirked while smearing pride upon my spotless hands. She stared at me with a sheepish smile. Meanwhile Dad resonated , "Look whom I did bring here for you . " I glanced at him with a perplexed art. The beggarly kid utters, "I will be helping you with everything from now on. Julie Lane is my name. I have been a cobbler's daughter since birth. My father has died last month and my mom can never have enough money to raise me. So I am here to work for you, help you and raise you. "

    - Moitreyee Bhaduri

    - to be continued

    to read all parts click on #thirdfloor

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    Chapter - 1


    Moitreyee Bhaduri

  • moitreyee 3w


    I wake up to earn a shaft. The curtains seldom preserve a space but they are unusual today to look so still, abiding their duty sternly with a bitter obedience, restraining distractions. Sometimes imperfections are habits and when things turn too perfect , we feel less homely. Unleashing strength from the shaft, I stare at curtains and doubt their perfection. Every morn has something different to teach yet it's similar in it's way of being a teacher. Today teaching is a philosophy we have learnt but never seen as authentic.

    There isn't a part of me not familiar with the zephyr. A fact about wind is that its pretence is a part of acting genuinely. They betray only when you are too foolish to trust its pace. We can brag a lot about being human but there are least evidences in our lives to testify it.

    I am aware of myself. I am aware of what aesthetic pretence is when there's no one to rely on. I clutch layers of the walls to appear strong. It's stupid of me to think that by holding a non living stanchion, I will be known as strong. It's not that we intend to retch out in a crowd, sometimes it's out of long term patience that has made us suppress a grief for too long.

    I'm bad at metaphors, at the metaphors that aren't a part of mine. So I pluck an eyelash to define how fragile is an opinion. It separates people, fills hatred, yet it's not a constant thing. Isn't it so funny how opinions change but grudges spitted by them don't ? Yeah, that's how spectrum looks like. We will own a single opinion which can split into seven shades of a grudge, chaos, support, sarcasm, smirk , hatred and disgust. Everytime your opinion brings you a support, it will bring you six more disasters. I'm not talking about supressing your opinion. I am talking about expressing it wisely through a dimension rather than a prism.

    - Moitreyee Bhaduri


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    Prisms are known,
    for the spectrums they spit.

  • moitreyee 4w


    Closing my eyes, I confine,
    everything absent in scenes.
    Parting my lips, I define,
    What of sacred are shrines.

    "Poetry must portray", I align,
    with zephyrs murking rhymes.
    Phrases are phases of a lifeline,
    I count as I fall forth at times.

    Hymns are the caged patience
    of roaring halls and a wrecked prison.
    Dreams are the faded essence
    of frozen walls and a wicked obsession.

    Crafting clauses, I exclaim,
    "Rhymes are proficient names !"
    on hues that wither but never claim
    What of beauty they build in flames !

  • moitreyee 4w


    Procast a bizarre, incise the blype
    And all you see is a stereotype.
    Grind a pace, step back anigh
    You're about to gulf a sigh.

    Silhouettes are a mere lie
    for fools that distort a bare cry.
    You swallow the shallow alerts, fie !
    for their's more in arts to buy.

    Every lane where hunger thrives
    you barely pay a blink to lives.
    You stress on needs, shove a noise
    and satiate your own rusty poise.

    You state changes you barely abide
    For streets never shove the dirt aside.
    Who are you to blame a voice ?
    When all they have is a freedom of choice !