A house on fire (part 1)
By: Sahil Katyal
Tags: Storytelling, Short Story, Thriller, Suspense

Photo by Rowan Heuvel on Unsplash

He wanted to be back home early to surprise Lisa on the eve of their second anniversary. It was a 20 odd mile drive from his office. He turned on the ignition, set his eyes on the road and stepped on the accelerator with a broad smile on his face. Hinder’s Lips of an Angel was playing on the radio. It used to be his favourite song while back in college. After all, that is a time when betrayal is a storyline that unites ‘bros’ in hostels and sets the foundation for friendships that last forever. As he shifted gears and moved onto the expressway he couldn’t stop thinking of the years gone by since Lisa had become a vital part of his life.

Lisa had met Paul during the Christmas of 2014 at her best friend’s dinner. When asked now, she would not agree to the general argument that it was strategically planned to make them meet which is what in current times their friends rightfully took all the credit for. Paul had been the said friend’s classmate and both of them had gotten along really well in school after Paul let her copy the answers off his Physics test sheet. When he first saw Lisa, Paul knew that he had to meet her again without the pressure of a Christmas dinner and the hullabaloo that goes with it. They met again 3 days later at a cafe just outside the vinyl shop Paul’s dad owned. “This is such a cozy street. You grew up here?”, asked Lisa with a hint of excitement in her shining eyes. Paul took a long sip at his coffee and pointed outside the window, “You see that vinyl shop? I used to spend my after-school hours there everyday watching my dad clean the dust off vinyls and telling me the story of the album he held in his hand. Every day was a new vinyl shelf and a new lot of stories. I used to look forward to this time of the day the most. You’d even laugh if I told you that I hated weekends for the fact that our vinyl shop was closed!” At this, Lisa giggled. Paul kept his cup down and realised he wanted to hear more of that giggle. They met more often, things went well and now here he was 2 miles away from wishing her a happy anniversary for their second year of togetherness.

Paul lowered the gear and took the exit off the expressway to the corner that led to their street. On reaching he cut-off the engine a bit far from the house for he knew that Lisa would be waiting by the window and did not want the surprise to ruin. Lisa hated flowers and hence a bouquet was out of the question. He opened the glove compartment and took out an Omega Seamaster which he knew she would jump to on seeing. Slowly he headed towards the door and rang the bell, covering the peeping hole all this while. There was no answer. He thought Lisa must have fallen asleep and rang the bell a couple of times more, but still there wasn’t an answer. He tried her cellphone, but that was switched off too. Soon his excitement gave way to worry. He opened the door with the spare key he kept in his car and went inside. The television was on, albeit on mute. He went to the bathroom, for she might have been taking a shower and not have heard the bell. There was no sign of her. He called up a few of their common friends and her sister. None had even the faintest idea of where she might have been if not at home.

Tensed, he went to the kitchen for a glass of cold water. As he was trying to open the refrigerator, he saw on its door written with a bright red lipstick : “This house is on fire.”’