The Hollow Hunt | Sameer Khan | Prose

The Hollow Hunt

“I’m on my bed, staring at roof, riding on a super fast track train of memories. It doesn’t feel like my bed anymore, it’s a seat in the train. And at each station the train stops, it takes me to a vision of past. I could see myself and around people who were important, whom I had hurt or had helped heal. With each of those thoughts, there is an increase in speed of the train, like its being fueled by me. It’s fed by my insecurities. Station to station, memories to memories I went nostalgic. My eyes start to water and before I could know, my tears created a vacuum which sucked me back into my bed. I could see the past versions of me dropping down like puppets. There are no demons under my bed. Just me. From the horror of the past. It was me with the people from my past during that time lapse. I can see them with a smirk on their face, for I was turning anxious. But, soon their faces changed into a clock, their sound of laughter turned into a loud tick and tock. My head wants to rip off as the sounds keeps intriguing me of my integrity. I notice a gun in my hand and now I’ve to decide what to do. I shot at those clocks, one by one. The sound did stop. Yes it did. But, every time I shot a clock it ricocheted back to my forehead. It was I who was shot multiple times by myself in order to wipe off the guilt of the past deeds. They turn back into people. The clocks are gone. But they still smile at me while I was about to bleed to death. It is then I realized that time can’t be killed. What is done is done. What has happened, has happened. You can try to kill it or hide it but all it does is stay within you.”