Sometimes you can't help things happen. Either consciously or subconsciously, you are bound sometimes to things you never meant to do and ultimately end up in disaster. Read on to find out what is the story of the man in this story.


The inquest got over now. I drove home and started writing immediately. I couldn’t keep it bottled up inside me any longer. That’s because they don’t know; or are fools and cannot guess. But I am not. I know much more.

It is August the twenty third, two pm in the afternoon. I ate out at my favorite restaurant today. The usual mutton joint, pickled tomatoes and apple tart. But today I couldn’t enjoy it. My mind was occupied with the conquest. The death had taken place exactly two days, fifteen hours and nine seconds ago. Yes, on the night of twentieth of August at 11:09 pm. I know because I had been staring at my watch just then. No, it was not a pleasant affair, of course not. But all the same, I had felt quite thrilled at the time and couldn’t believe that I had witnessed a death. Actually, they think it was a death. But I was not.

All of that thrill vanished as soon as the police arrived. I, for the first time experienced fear – fear mingled with pity and dread. I didn’t know what to say. I possibly couldn’t say what was needed to be said. So, ultimately I lied. Perhaps I did it too well, because no one found out that what I was saying was rubbish and totally untrue. I must be a fine actor too. Good.

She had fallen into the pool by losing balance after getting heavily drunk and had drowned herself. This is how the coroner summed up her case. It sounded simple enough. But, before going into anything else, let me first tell how everything commenced.

It was a college reunion party, given by one of our ex-classmates who had recently been lucky to come across a huge promotion. It was a jolly affair and all was going good in that five-star party. My brother and I been there too. It was some few minutes after our arrival that we saw her. My brother wanted to leave and return back immediately. But I stopped him. That would be indecent. Moreover, the presence of just one person shouldn’t let him spoil a festive mood, should it? So, with great difficulty I made him stay. He binged and by that time she had got quite stiffly drunk. The effect of alcohol was affecting his mind. He couldn’t take her sight anymore.

If she was there, he would talk to her once more, feel her once more… oh, he had never been able to forget their past relationship.

They had been together for a year and were planning to get married. My brother was very happy. I sometimes felt that he nearly worshipped her. But one day she walked out on him, just out of the blue and without any reasons. He tried to ask, to negotiate, even beg her, but she had made up her mind that she couldn’t stay with him any longer. In a week she got engaged with someone else and later married him. What my brother was going through, other than him it was only I who knows. My brother never fell in love again. He remained a bachelor.

More than the wine, it was her sight that was intoxicating him that day. The urge to hear her voice was inevitable. He couldn’t resist it anymore. Confidently he marched towards her and took her to the pool side, unnoticed. That side was isolated and had a cool charm. Bathed in a silver light from the moon and adorned by a gentle breeze, this perfect romantic scene and her presence drove my brother insane. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close. Before she could scream, he shut her mouth tightly with his athletic hand. And then suddenly he became aware of a surging anger within him. He pushed her away as quick as he had held her. There she stood, fighting to keep her balance and panting. The sudden shock and the effect of too much alcohol were doing badly for her. My brother laughed. It was good to see her suffer – poor, weak creature.

The anger was back again. She wasn’t poor! By then she had steadied her footsteps and was standing there facing his back. The high amount of alcohol was doing badly for him too.

In a fit of rage, he kicked at her legs and had started to move towards the party side. But halfway, something made him to halt and look back. She had been wearing five-inch cross sections. This time she hadn’t been able to keep her balance. The pool was very deep. The alcohol had made her too tired to struggle out or scream for help. There, she was splashing about weakly. He didn’t go to help her. Instead he merely shrugged, looked at his watch, turned and came walking swiftly away to join the others. Nobody asked anything; nobody found out. But I knew. I had seen.

I didn’t tell anything, neither then, nor now. Her body had been discovered the next morning by the hotel staff. The matter was disposed off as an accident. And just like me, my brother also had acted very admirably. After the inquest, he went off. I came back home and am writing all this down in my diary.

When I come to think of it, I wonder if it was a mistake to have made my brother stay in the party that day. It would perhaps have been better if he had returned home after all. But, I’m sure that my brother wasn’t feeling guilty. He hadn’t kicked her intentionally. It has been an accident. Yes, he could have saved her, but he hadn’t felt like it. So, there was a weeny bit of guilt hidden somewhere, but I’m sure it would never show itself. And why should it? I mean, she had always made him suffer and after all, who had told her to drink so much? Pah, she deserved it!

But did she? Oh, God! If only I didn’t have this bad habit of posing as my own brother, perhaps she would have been alive now…


An excerpt that the police found in the dead woman’s diary dated seven years ago:

Today I left him. I had to! He compelled me to do it. I loved him; but he had this strange habit of behaving as two people at a time. One person was the guy I loved and wanted to entrust my whole life to, but the other was almost the complete opposite – a very grotesque personality whom I hated as much as I loved the first. I was afraid, very much afraid. I even doubt that he knew that I feared him. He could read it in my eyes. But even then he didn’t change or even try to… So, ultimately I had to walk away…

That was all. No names were mentioned. And the rest of the pages hadn’t been written on.