Skip to main content

FATAL ATTRACTION




BEYOND THE BOX

TWO 2 TANGO TEAM # 25. 

A collaborative writing with Mithila Peshwe.


POV:

Toby, the stalker – Mithila Peshwe

Brandon Reid, the husband – Sangeetha Kamath 



PROMPT: WRITE A STORY IN 800 WORDS IN TWO POV's ABOUT A VIDEO CLIP THAT GOES VIRAL.


          

                     FATAL ATTRACTION 


BRANDON REID


Darned nuisance!

It wasn't enough that the media had a field day for weeks and months hounding me, trespassing my premises, now a loon is out to make life hell for me. 


I was still reeling under the tragic death of my wife, Bianca while holidaying at a resort and this case, media attention was adding to my list of woes.  


Bianca’s bird-brained craze of vlogging had gotten us into this mess. Her ‘last’ vlog not only captured the scenic backdrop but also her dying moments - thrashing about underwater and finally succumbing to her death.


What a furore that 'Live' had caused. Millions of hits within a day. Now there's this joker called Toby, some stalker I’m sure, claiming that she didn't drown, but was murdered!


His online petition caused the case to be reopened. 


*****


It was a circus outside the courtroom. The reporters thronged the stairs, sticking tier cameras and mikes into my face, bombarding me with questions and taunts.


Head held high, I jostled my way into the safety behind the closed doors, walking up to my seat. The jury settled in, and the prosecutor perked up, turning towards them. 


“A new piece of evidence has been brought to light. May I be permitted to play the clipping, please?”


The screen came to life with the same video which had been replayed umpteen times with Bianca gliding underwater in her scuba gear.


Suddenly, she thrashed about, arms and legs flailing helplessly.


“Can we not go through this again?" I pleaded, almost hysterically. “It’s agony for me to watch this. What’s new in this?" I barely controlled my anger.


“Patience Mr. Reid, I will rewind the clip a few frames and we will see.”


The screen whirled in a motley of colors, as Bianca emerged back to life. 



TOBY


There was a tic under his eye, and a rigidity in his shoulders that betrayed his underlying emotions. An act – pathetic and pitiful, to evoke sympathy in the minds of the jury. They seemed to have eaten up the emotional garbage he had spewed so far. 

But I knew better.


Because I knew ‘her’ better.


The faint strains of Bianca’s last video clip played on the white screen.


It was an accident, he said.


A well-designed accident, I must say. 


Bianca’s mellifluous voice filtered through the stuffy courtroom, twisting my mind into knots.


“Guys, you won’t believe this. I’m at the Jade Palms Resort, South Coast. Look at this vast expanse of azure sea and shimmering, silver sand. Just like heaven.”


The video panned out from her radiant face over the breathtaking landscape.


Her copper tresses blew over her face like a gossamer curtain. My hand twitched to caress the silken strands as I had done a million times over in my mind. 


She folded her sun-kissed, lithe body on the beach towel right beside him – Brandon! The video tilted as his smirking face came into view. He waved awkwardly, pulling her feet over his lap, deftly massaging her soles.


“Oh what more can a woman ask for?” she moaned appreciatively, relaxing under his ministrations. He shifted back to pour some oil.


"STOP! Stop right there!" I jumped up from my seat, facing the startled faces in the courtroom.


“The oil… it killed her!”


I knew it well. There was only one thing Bianca was severely allergic to. Even a few drops of it mixed with the oil could cause anaphylaxis, fatal to her if not treated immediately. She had alluded to it in her vlog from two years ago, the one in a blue monokini for a famous beauty brand. I still remember every word, every video, every tiny detail about her – her dreams, her regrets, her fears. 


Brandon stared at me aghast, countless emotions passing over his face. He raised an accusatory finger at me. 


BRANDON REID


Indignant, I stomped my foot, “Are you mad? How dare you accuse me without proof? I don't know anything about any Jasmine oil!"


“Mr. Reid”, the prosecutor looked at me smugly, “Who said anything about Jasmine oil?” he looked downright gleeful. 


All eyes were on me. My blood ran cold. Did I just give myself away?


“No!” My mask crumpled. “I’m the smartest! I planned this for months. An accidental death and all her insurance money would have been mine." I screamed, driving the nail deeper in my coffin. 


This cannot be happening to me. 



TOBY 


I slumped back in my seat, oblivious to the cacophony around me. My gaze glued to the white screen, still paused on Bianca’s upturned face. 


Our love for her was toxic in its own way but his killed her, mine made sure he paid.



Pic Courtesy:Pixabay 

**********************************************



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see.  A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird , its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has sai...

BOKETTO

  In my quiet moments, I pause the world from its frantic pace. In that stillness, I wistfully gaze into the distance and just let things unfurl as they please. I let my thoughts flow, absorbing nothing. Internalizing nothing. And just like that, the strands of tightly woven twine untangle and the knots come loose. Today, as usual, I found myself caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily grind. I was rushing to get things done, stressing about deadlines, and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tasks on my to-do list. But then, I took a deliberate pause. With a deep breath, I stretched, stepped away from my desk, and walked out onto my balcony. Leaning on the railing, I looked down at the familiar lanes of my neighborhood, twirling around the corners behind the blocks of apartments.  The park and playground stood deserted at noon amid the cluster of flowering trees and surrounded by the hedges lining the curbs. I gazed at the sky, feeling the warm sun on my face and ...

ARIEL AND BLUE-BLOOD SHOES

  The waves crashed violently against the craggy mountainside and the moonlight shone on the lacy froths. As I waded through the water and stepped on the wet sand, I remembered another night which was many moons ago. The same glinting lights through the palace doorways and windows, the fireworks adorning the night sky like shooting stars and meteors. A royal celebration with all the works and the guests dressed up in their best finery and aristocratic jewelry. Of noble births they all were. Blue blooded as the matriarch had pointedly told me once.  That unholy night! That night of icy hearts and howling laughter, the echoes of cackling that followed me till I ran on wobbly legs to find my place of comfort where the land met water… Hot tears streaming down, I regretted those days when I lost my heart to a man so spineless. Had I not dragged him to the shore, he would have been a mangled mass after being torn apart by the piranhas and other monstrous maws.  How I regret…Oh!...

CHẠ̀WKHRĀW (Chxw̒kh rxw̒)

  As usual, at the dot of 8 pm, the Guzheng plays its stirring chords, the haunting notes beginning a slow sweep, rising to a powerful crescendo and alternating with a tranquil ebbing of melody surfing me along the waves of soul-stirring, yet a serene stretch of an hour every day.  I make it a point to sit right beside my dining room window to bask in this lulling sound therapy as my neighbor downstairs diligently plays on this zither, oblivious to my admiration. What a luxury it is to have a live orchestra while I savour the last meal of the day. It's a welcome distraction to the otherwise jarring squabbling of the playful neighbourhood children.  The Chạ̀wkhrāw of this– that the musical household might move one day is a foreboding thought. Foreshadowing this, deeply ingrained in me is the shattering news I had received upon returning to Singapore after an 8 month absence here.  The Ramadan festive season was fast approaching at the end of March but the apar...

HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE

The sleek steel grey landline with it's cordless handset gleams in the mid morning sunlight. It's only a fixture on the tabletop these past several years yet loved and flaunted for old times sake. Also, for the numerous times the handset had nestled in our palms. The vintage feel of it and the stronghold of memories I associate it with beats the smartphone by miles.  It has in turn been a confidante of our precious moments, some idling talk, some annoyance oh yes ! and all before Whatsapp made an entry into our lives and the poor dear was no longer in demand. The world was at our fingertips. It doesn't complain, doesn't whimper, not even a sigh, murmur or a slightest hint at a whisper of life for the past decade and more! Except… On Thursday the daylights were socked out of me! Lost in mundane chores, I had my gloved hands deep in a pile of soapy water scrubbing away at the breakfast dishes. The usual swell of silence was harshly rend by the landline from the livin...