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- The Dare
This post has been published by me as a part of the
the thirty-eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following
The theme for the month is "The Woman on Platform Number 10"
What was I doing at this wee hour of the night, that too on a discarded railway platform, of the british era, where none dared trespass during the day.
The graveyard situated just at the back of the last platform, had supposedly eaten away several railway staff and innocent passers, decades ago, since then, though overbridge took to platform no. 10, no train had ever crossed that platform, since ages.
How on earth did I reach platform no.10, I couldn't fathom.
Oh yes, Friends had challenged me, at a party, to spend one night, and I was brave enough to accept it outright.
I recalled having cuddled in a safe looking abandoned stall, keeping awake, some bizzare sound emnating from back of the graveyard, slightly perturbing, but I knew they were all mind's cultivations.
I couldn't believe my eyes. There stood this beautiful woman at platform number10. I sensed her tense look, waiting for a train to come by, looking at her watch every five seconds. I knew no train would ever come at this platform, and much awed by courage of a lady to dare come at this platform. I was tempted to come out of the stall and advise her to go on the right platform. Just as I tried to riseup, I heard a train whistling and entering the platform. I had never in my life seen such train before. I stealthily switched my mobile camera on recording mode.
I was amazed at the dress code of people inside the train. The lady started searching each compartment frantically, suddenly a handsome man elegantly adorned, alighted the train and embraced her. I pinched myself, to check it was not a dream, but all this was happening, right infront of my very eyes.
Hey, what was I seeing, some hefty type guys were forcibly seperating them.
Ohh God, One of them drew out a big butcher knife, and stabbed the girl in the stomach.
I sat frozen in every limb.
I was witness of a first degree crime. I wanted to scream for help, but no sound emerged. They headed towards me, shouting, burn the stall. This stall owner helped the girl.
I was perplexed. They will burn the stall. All my recording will go gown the drain.
Suddenly it dawned upon me, I had to run for my life from my hiding.
I lay frozen. They lit fire to the stall. I fainted.
I regained cosciousness, when the heat of the sun scorched upon me. I looked around for the lady, but the platform was fully deserted. I searched my mobile and checked the recording but alas! nothing had been recorded, except my murmurings, "I cannot be burned I am full soaked in ganges water. "
With vivid memories I got up and staggered along towards my friends house.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked