Category : Stories

Sub Category : Suspense/Mystery

The Lantern

At first the apartment was a series of small and drab concrete boxes, but it was all he could afford. The grey weather of his adopted country and the grey walls killed him day by day. Then he projected himself towards filling his dead life with some colors. Every month he would save money for paint, pictures and furniture, always choosing the pinks and blues. He hung beautiful candid photographs for her. He bought vibrant cushions and soft fabric throws, flowing curtains hung by the window. There were plants at his kitchen window. The air was perfumed with *sweet*aromas.

He had transformed it into a cozy apartment, just the thing for a new family starting out. The sun was coming up then, shining through the living room windows and giving a healthy glow to the two occupants. It had been a rough night; she was about to wake up, but he had stayed awake, keeping an eye on her. When she opened her eyes and began to look around, he crouched beside her.

“You never thought it would work when you accepted, did you?” He smiled, and she smiled back, “You thought it was a prank, some stupid guy passing around the good stuff. How high were you? Do you even know what you had been doing?”

He glared at the lantern sitting by her cot still stained with her crimson red blood, reminded him that only the day before he told her to make a wish, the moment he gave her the lantern, he made his point clear that whatever she wanted the most would be hers – she simply laughed. She didn’t even listen to his warning as she got on the table and announced to the whole room, ‘To the new beginning!'

He stood up and pacing to and fro the narrow path beside where she was laying; her eyes followed him.

Then without any warning she had sliced her Palm and let her blood drip inside the lantern. Had she honestly stopped and think for a second! She would've known what's coming.

He leaned over her, cupping her cheek with his palm. “You really ought to have listened to the warning, my child.” She looked away, he continued, “But this is what you asked for after all.”

She began to cry. He lifted her into his arms and she quieted, eyes fixed on him again.

“I suppose I could fix you. I suppose…” He held up a small, stuffed bear. “Would you like that? Would you like me to fix you?”

“Da!” she said, reaching for the toy.

He let her have the bear and she chewed on its ear. He set her in a high chair and turned on the television where a breaking news report was showing the face of Amanda Lee, a pretty young girl of twenty-one, last seen leaving a party just after two in the morning. The edge of his mouth turned up and he changed the channel.

“Don’t worry, Amanda,” he said, going to prepare her a bottle. “You won’t even remember you had another life before I became your father.”