The Haunted.

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I watched as trails of sweat travel down my body like I was the path to their hiking fantasy. With a shaky breath, I murmured incoherent words to myself. I never would have believed it if I was told I'll do something as horrific as this.

But, it was too late now, for I knew the memory of that day would haunt me. And, yes, it did. It haunted my sleep every day until it almost took my breath away. I became "The haunted". And yes! I knew I deserved it, so I never pushed the thought of death away. It was a sweet escape to the disrupting act I had carried out.

So, instead, I embraced every guilt and thought as I knew deeply that I was a... a... a...Murderer! And just the thought of that brings countless tears to my eyes.

At first, it was hard to believe, but the presence of the red liquid that had stained my hands proved it. If only I didn't stand up at that moment in anger. Oh, anger, the killer of mankind. "I should have known better". I whispered darkly to myself with tears in my eyes. I was surely in a miserable land because of this, and I let my emotions lead me there.

My eldest sister's voice echoed in my head, and I wanted to believe it. But I just couldn't. The moment she came in and saw my fragile body on the floor whimpering like a child who was abandoned by his mother at the mall, and my hands on the floor facing the ceiling stuck her. I had never been a big fan of her while growing up, but at that moment, I listened to her like my life depended on it. "She'll fix my mess", I whispered strangely to myself until her words came out, and I knew I was doomed!

"You shouldn't beat yourself up. They'll die anyway. Wash the blood on your hands. It is going to be fine." She had said with a smile.

At first, I thought I heard wrong. "Is she trying to cover up the mess and doesn't want me to beat myself up?" I questioned myself, but I was left with no answer. "I should be in jail for this. I killed it just because I was frustrated by the sound it made. It was a living thing which had blood flowing through its veins, and I... I... I let my palms do the job." I replied back to my eldest sister. Looking deeply into her eyes to prove me wrong.

But, she smiled and replied. "The blood could be either yours or mine. They sucked our blood. It's their thing to do, and killing them isn't a big deal. It's actually fun killing them." She added with a smile.

My eyes shone with worry as I realized I was staying with a murderer like me, and that scared me most. "Why would she find fun in killing these innocent frustrating creatures. She must be a maniac!" I clarified.

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"In seven days or about 6 weeks, mosquitoes will die whether they take blood or not. Would you like them to go scot-free after taking your blood without permission with their annoying sound?I really wish they could feel the pain and suffering of malaria they leave in our body. I'll kill every one of them with no remorse!" My eldest sister said, walking away from me.

And right there, I felt more tears stain my cheek as I looked her way. I am surely staying with a blood maniac, I shuddered.

However, when I got to school the next day and told my friend, she said almost the same thing as my sister and I stayed away from her until my teacher taught us about the life cycle of a mosquito and everything that surrounds it. It was then I breathed a sigh of relief as I reminisced on how dramatic I was. Though I didn't like the idea of killing them, It would have been great if we could come to a conclusion on how they can suck our blood. It'll be a win-win, but it's not possible, is it?

Although this incident happened a long time ago, when I was still in high school maybe, I couldn't help remember my breakdown that day after I killed a mosquito, and it blood-stained my hands. It is sometimes disturbing but that didn't stop me from killing the hell out of them whenever they become too disturbing.


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