He got out of the car and walked towards his house, a distance of a few feet appeared to be miles. Heavily sloshed with the smell of alcohol reeking from his body, stumbling, wobbling and tottering, he finally made his way to the door. He banged the door for what felt like ages, then laughed at himself when he looked at the lock on the door. With great difficulty he fished out the key from the pocket of his pants and opened it.
He hung onto the door for support. The house was pitch-dark; he felt the walls on the side to search for switches. On finding them, he switched them on, all at once. The house lay illuminated, the bright lights blinded him. The house was in a mess, things were strewn all across the floor and it looked as if someone had torn it apart.
“Aargh!” he screamed in disgust and shut the door. He switched off all the lights in the house except the night light which was dim. He made his way through clutter on the floor occasionally tripping over and then using the choicest abusive words.
He walked into the bedroom and switched on the lights. A huge wedding portrait of him and his wife decorated the opposite wall. He walked towards it, every so often taking the support of the bed or dressing.
“You see this is how I want my house to be!” he looked at the picture of his wife and screamed at the top of his lungs.
“No light and no ‘chann chann’ sound of your bloody anklets! Understand you stupid woman! Otherwise why would I take a house in the far outskirts of the city?” he continued screaming.
He paused for a moment. “Shh…” he told and made a face at her by putting his finger on his lips.
“You are a mad woman!” he declared and let out a roaring laugh.
“No, no, Obsessed and crazy” he coughed and corrected himself. “Eating 5 small meals, watering your roses 3 times, brushing your hair a hundred times, and cleaning the house 4 times; still I put up with you and what did you do for me in return? All that I asked you for was your jewellery.”
He traced the outline of her lips and tried to pull her chin and jaws in the photo, “Not much use of that smart ass mouth of yours now, is it? Enjoy your stay, 6 feet below your own beloved roses” he told, mocking her.
He then jumped right on the bed, “Look I’m going to sleep on MY bed with my shoes on!” he taunted her with a harsh, derisive laugh.
He stretched his hand out as far as he could to switch off the lights, knocking over the table lamp in the process; he giggled at his antics and fell asleep.
Somewhere around midnight, his sleep broke.
“Chann, chann, chann” he heard the sound of anklets. Irritated he put a pillow over his ear.
He felt someone sit close to his legs, he ignored it.
“One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six”, he heard, in a voice being alternated between that of his wife’s and a coarse manly voice.
A chill ran through his spine, his hands felt cold, short of breath, he started sweating profusely, and his heart pounded.
With all the courage he could muster, he woke up and sat. He looked at the silhouette; it was of a woman perched at the end of the bed with her back to him, she was brushing her hair.
“Who is it?” he asked, his barely audible voice quivering with fear.
“Missed me?” the silhouette questioned.
Only her head turned to face him, she had adorned all her jewellery, dried blood from the wounds caused due to the blow on her head marked half her face, the rest was covered with scratches.
“I had to come back. After all, Diamonds are a woman’s best friend” she replied calmly to his frightened face.
He did the only thing his brain could tell him to do. He screamed. Over and over again, as her long arm reached for his throat.