They say time means nothing in hell, but for me, every second after that night etched itself onto the deepest corners of my soul. When I finally came back - back to the world of the living - I thought I could bury it all, lock it away, forget. I was so wrong.
Returning to my bungalow in Goa felt like walking into a haunted house, though no one else could see the ghosts that followed me. The air was thick with Stella's presence, heavy like a damp cloak I couldn't shake off. Every corner whispered her name. I tore down every photo, those framed smiles and frozen moments tossed like unwanted relics of a life that now felt like a lie. I stuffed her clothes into a dark cupboard, as if hiding them would hide the memories too. But no matter how hard I tried, she clung to me like a shadow I couldn't outrun.
The first sign was subtle - the faint, sweet scent of jasmine that used to be hers. It would catch me off guard, drifting through a closed room, reminding me she was watching. "Get a grip, Steve," I told myself. "You're just losing it." But deep down, I knew better.
Then came the mirror.
I was brushing my teeth one late night when I caught it - a flash behind me, a familiar silhouette. My heart hammered like I was a kid caught sneaking out. I whipped around, gasping, but the bathroom only stared back with cold, indifferent tiles.
"You're losing your mind," I whispered harshly, staring into the mirror, but my reflection looked back with haunted, tired eyes.
Then, Asha arrived.
She was Stella's best friend from Mumbai - bright, bubbly, impossibly full of life. Just seeing her was like a beam of sunlight in the tunnel I was trapped in. She hugged me like I was still the man I used to be.
"Man, you look like you've seen a ghost," she joked with that familiar lilt. "When are you going to stop acting like a lost soul?"
We sat that night with mugs of chai, the universe outside raining as relentless as ever. The lights suddenly flickered, throwing shadows that danced on the peeling walls. Asha's laughter faded into a hush, her smile replaced by a sharp intake of breath.
"Did… did you feel that?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Before I could lie or shrug it off, the temperature dropped like the breath of death itself. My skin prickled as if unseen fingers traced icy patterns along my arm. Asha's eyes no longer held teasing light but fear.
"Steve... I think Stella's still here. With us."
The air thickened, charged with a presence I could neither flee nor fight.
At that moment, I understood the cruel truth - I was never going to be free. Trapped not just by the guilt or hate, but by the woman who haunted every corner of my mind and heart. I was caught, eternally, in her smile.