A Scratch 3x1b4l

A SCRATCH

First eBook edition 2021

Copyright © Shruti Bhattacharya 2021

All rights reserved

Shruti Bhattacharya asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Due care and diligence has been taken while editing the book. The author does not hold any responsibility for any mistake that may have crept in inadvertently and she shall be free from any liability for damages and losses of any nature arising from or related to the content. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, circulated, and no reproduction in any form, in whole or in part (except for brief quotations in articles or reviews) may be made without the written permission of the author.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my family, all my close friends and my luck, to have ed me throughout the wonderful journey of writing and publishing this book.

To

Mom, Dad and my Elder Sis

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilogue

Prologue

Rummaging through my files, pretty old ones, I suddenly excavated a couple of documents. Most of them worn and torn, yet carrying substantial evidencesevidences of my existence. Yes, I was alive. I had told them. I wasn’t dead yet. But no one seemed to hear me. They said I screeched from my grave. But that was not true. I was alive- Buried alive.

. Believe me, I am still alive

Chapter 1

My childhood had been a ruckus. My parents were dead because of me. My mother died right after giving birth to me, and my father, who could not take the pain and anguish, killed himself- with cyanide.

I have no siblings (as I was told) and spent my lonely childhood by myself. I was a shy, coward kleptomaniac (as many would say), and was advised to seek help in dealing with trauma. I was always misunderstood.

I was not mad. I was fine.

People used to dislike me or rather hate me and found me to be way too ‘Clingy’. This is precisely what happens to the loners. Yet, thankfully, by heaven’s grace, because of the immense wealth that my parents had kept aside for me, I could have completed my education and get a great job in an IT firm in a posh city.

I had accustomed my soul and my brain to live all by myself and never really had any acquaintances (because I was a ‘ed kleptomaniac’. Believe me, I certainly wasn’t). Yet, the world and the universe, always found ways to manipulate my life and bring about destruction and complete havoc.

Money and immense wealth in of my inherited property had been my only friends, and we respected each other. I used to make good use of them at every stage of my life.

I had always wanted to make myself as happy as I could. But sometimes the universe makes you contemplate your life and ruins every inch of your happiness, stripping away your finest memories and enriching your life with excellent and happy adversities.

Chapter 2

I had a penthouse, long back, whose caretaker was Uncle Sam. Decent man, 60+, grey haired, hard-working and punctual. I trusted him completely. He must have reached the gates of heaven by now. But his presence had impacted my life in a positive fashion. I have, am and will always be grateful to him, his 52 year old wife and to their lovely daughter Nicky. I wonder where she is right now.

My life was great, even though it lacked emotional happiness. But money, being my great companion, helped me sur all barriers. I had a great job, a great remuneration. My life was amazing. Self parties, tours, great food, good clothes, pets and what not.

But, when one of the wheels of the car stops, which in my case is the lack of happiness and human companionship, life snatches away the other wheel of monetary comfort.

Yes, suddenly, out of nowhere, I was sacked. Basically, I was thrown out of my job. I was robbed on the streets one fine Sunday morning when I was returning home, after encashing my gold bars. My bank was hacked. I was pulled down to the streets.

In order to survive, I had to sell off my beautiful pent house. ‘Friends’ started deserting me. After clearing off my debts, I realized that I had to live on the streets because I couldn’t afford the rent of my newly rented apartment. I was kicked by the roadside thug(s) everyday, who tried to snatch away everything I had in my possession. Yes, everything.

I was shattered- mentally and physically. I wore tattered clothes. I was detected with cancer-lung- first stage, thanks to an aged lady who took me to the hospital, the day I had fainted on the streets.

A couple of my ‘friends’ and former office acquaintances had tried to help me out of my mess in the beginning. However, upon understanding my adversities and gauging the gravity of the situation, they slowly crawled away.

A couple of years later, I got to know, from one of my office colleagues, the reason behind sacking me. Somebody had apparently informed the company authorities that I was mentally sick and needed psychological help. And the company threw me out, without any evidence of the same, just to avoid a chaos and a possible humiliation and embarrassment of the organization. I didn’t know why. Why were people doing this to me? Because I had become really successful? Or just because I was dumb?

Chapter 3

One day, somebody, fortunately or unfortunately, had picked me up from the streets and dropped me off at a rehabilitation center like a rag. I was thrown on the floor of the building. There, I was treated- as a patient. I don’t know what they had seen inside my brain because I was totally fine.

I had tried, tried to escape, by frantically hitting the door with an iron rod, by scratching my nails on the floor, constantly, trying to escape the strong grips on my hand when I was taken to the ‘doctor’. I used to bleed- everyday- because of all the scratching.

One day, a muscular man pushed me onto a stretcher and took me to a room which I assumed to be an operation theatre. They inserted so many things into my body- so many needles- so many instruments- did so many tests. -did something with lasers. Soon, I realized that I was losing my hair. Everywhere there was hair. Everywhere there was pain, hopelessness, despair.

I had been informed that it had been six months of me being there. I had been cured of everything- Of cancer, of mental sickness. I was told that I was now ‘clean’. And surprisingly, everything that they did to me was apparently for free. Just for me.

But, I had lost my hair, my strength. In short, I had lost myself. I had lost the beauty I once possessed. I had lost all hopes of living. The universe had stripped me off of everything. I had finally managed to make some acquaintances. However, they only discussed about death, flesh and murders. I wondered why. We were all given numbers instead of names and were asked to urinate right

where we slept and ate. Why our rooms did not have proper doors and why was it so dull and gloomy and creepy?

Yes. I realized it much later, much, much later. I was in a prison.

Chapter 4

After eternity, I was supposedly released from prison because I came out clean in the court. I knew I had done nothing wrong.

But little did I know that my miseries were far from over.

I was once again picked up by one of my ‘well-wishers’. This time I was on a plane. I could feel that. I was dropped off at a barren land- A very cold barren land. I didn’t know where. I was thrown into a room which this time had proper doors and windows. I had been told that I was in a rehabilitation center, again, but this time, somewhere near Alaska.

Hence the cold.

Sitting by the windows of the rehab, day in and day out, I realized that my life had never been easy. It had always been in turmoil. My childhood, my adolescence and my adulthood had always been snatched away from me. A brief period of happiness was just a mirage. A beautiful prank played by the universe. It was after the laser ‘treatment’ which made me ‘clean’ that I realized that –

Light could produce darkness.

Yes. I had lost my left vision due to ‘simple negligence’ by the doctors. However, along with my normal vision, I realized that I had lost my inner vision too. I was

merely a propagating beast. I was dwelling amidst the shadows of the apparent sunshine which illuminated me, yet deprived me off its warmth. I just existed. I had lost all hopes- all hopes of having a probable better future- at least a happier one.

Life had bestowed me with so many adventures that I had stopped contemplating it. I just dwelled like a living corpse.

However, I desperately needed an escape. I needed death.

Chapter 5

I had soon started to realize the fact that my life had no meaning. I had always been a striver- striving hard to live and overcome challenges at all points of my life.

I have written all of this down, the history of my life, in brief, to help the world look differently towards people like me. People like me need help, from the world, and yes, many helped me out, like the lady who took me to the rehab in the beginning, the people at the rehab and many others. However, only these kinds of help may cure one of one’s physical ailments. But, only love and respect will be able to heal the inside of a person. You can give any amount of wealth and materialistic benefits to a person, but only love can heal you completely. So both money and love are really important. However, money can help you live… breathe. And you know what? Somewhere, deep within me, I think I still believe that I will be able to regain all of my wealth and fame and sit back at my old pent house, sip coffee, safe and sound, and read this diary.

Anyways, where was I? Yes.

Life went on and on. I had suddenly realized that ten years had gone by and that I was close to around 40-45.

I had so many plans, so many dreams. And I could have done nothing.

I don’t know why I was stuck in the rehab - in the freezing cold. I wanted to go

back to my ‘posh city’. Back at home.

One fine day I was told that I will be returned to my place, as if I was a parcel of unwanted goods which had accidentally arrived at a different location. But, still, I was very happy.

On the very same evening, I was thrown into a plane and then ‘couriered’ back to my place. I had run from the airport like anything. Free- forever.

But…

Somebody again picked me up forcefully from the streets and tossed me into a forest.

I had cried that day…really hard.

For the first and for the last time.

Chapter 6

Amelia closed the diary that she was reading. She sat back on her couch. She had found the diary in a forest here in the outskirts of New York, when she had gone there for cycling last week. She deliberately stole it and had kept it in her bag. She had read the diary twice. She hadn’t even informed her best friends about this. She was too shocked to react. Suddenly, she noticed a piece of paper peeking out of the diary. She carefully took it out- it was an uneven, torn piece of paper of the same diary- now yellow in color. It read-

Hey, maybe this is the last time I am writing this. But listen. I am leaving this diary right here. So anyone who sees it, please, please, please, do read it. And help me. I am still alive. Those men will come back anytime now. I will probably be buried alive. I heard them talking. I think they accidentally took me to the wrong rehab and now want to kill me. I am really scared.

But listen. I am still alive. And I will still be alive. I will be scratching from beneath my grave to help you guys locate it. Do try and listen.

Please help me out- do try and hear my scratches.

g off, with hope,

The note is signed 10th December 1990- Almost 30 years have ed by. Some lady was trapped underneath the ground for the past 30 years.

Determined, Amelia decided to find the victim’s body. She drove to the forest- a 2 hour drive. She parked her car and walked up to the place where she had found the diary- surprisingly she realized that she had the directions in mind.

She started to look around the place for possible evidences or signs which could help her find Arina. She was about to go back when she spotted a shovel next to her. She started digging around, here and there a little bit, hoping to get some clue.

Disappointed, she dropped the shovel on the ground and started heading back towards the car.

But suddenly she heard something-

She heard a scratch.

The police arrived at the spot and dug out the place. The body, now just merely a stinking skeleton, was recovered. After a couple of days, a bio-data was created:

Amelia went on studying the report endlessly. She couldn’t seem to gulp in the entire events. She hadn’t revealed about the diary to the police. She wanted to study it more herself and then share it with them. Buried alive? How insane had man gotten? And why?

Suddenly her eye went to a side note clipped onto the bio-data page. It read:

Hypothetical cause of death: Self strangulation??? Buried her own self when she was alive???

TRACES OF MUD FOUND IN THE REMAINING NAILS.

Due to lack of proper evidences, the case was eventually closed.

Epilogue

Standing inside the forest, Amelia looked around her. She could not have forgotten the case, not so soon. She soaked in the forest’s mushy and damp air. Her eyes went back to the shovel that she had found long back next to where Arina had been buried alive.

Instinctively, she picked the shovel up and sat down on the floor of the forest. She pulled out a small portable ‘forensic kit’ that she had bought from a science fair. Using some of her instruments, she carefully collected the prints that she found on the shovel.

She ran the samples in her small pc. She had carefully collected information of people or criminals against multiple fingerprints, from the forensics lab, thanks to the technician at the laboratory.

She tapped the back of her hand, waiting for the results. And finally they cameOf her, a couple of officers’ who had possibly touched the shovel and of another person.

Maybe the criminal?

‘MATCHED WITH: ARINA SACHSONDERS’

Had the criminal wiped away all the evidences including his or her own

fingerprints and had carefully ensured that only Arina’s prints remained?

Or

Was the hypothesis note true? Did Arina actually strangulate and bury…?

There was a sound- a sound of a scratch- coming from right underneath the place where Amelia was standing.

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! Also, check out the books in this series!

A SCREAM

The truth of Arina’s life has been partially dug out.

However, what happens when the one responsible to dig out her truth, is suddenly confronted with the harsh reality?

A SMILE

What happens to the evidences retrieved during the investigation of the case? Are they enough to completely solve the puzzle of Arina’s life?

And what about the mysterious dreams, that haunts the one responsible, to dig out more truths?

Read to find the complete truth!

About the Author

Shruti Bhattacharya is a Science student with a keen interest in the field of Astronomy, Quantum Physics, Coding and Cyber Security, and has a great liking for Music, Art, Dance and English literature. She has been writing ever since she was a young child. However, this is her first, published fiction series.