The thick polyester curtain was successfully blocking all traces of the outer world. The dark walnut bookcase lined the entire wall facing those expensive curtains. Even from this distance, she could vouch the captivating painting probably cost more than what she would get if she succeeded. The golden frame glinting in the beams of the bright light from the lamps around. Staring at the firm mahogany table, she realized every word of the advertisement was true. The room silently screamed of opulence and grandeur.

Her hands shook as she pulled the contract towards her, wondering if she should back out. Was it really worth it? Her brain taunted her, calling her pitiful. Maybe the confusion was evident on her face. The proprietor was looking at her keenly with a knowing grin gracing his features.

That's when she realized people backed off at this stage. The fear of the unknown gnawed their greed out of their consciousness. The stout man decked in fancy apparel, checked his expensive watch, and again his eyes flicked on the worn out girl in front of him.

The frigid weather did nothing to ease the beads of sweat trickling down her forehead. Her mind, although trying to erase the traitor thoughts, desperately failed to do so.

It had almost been a quarter of an hour, her shabby overcoat hung loosely to her lean frame. Her clothes, although worn out, were clean. The 'n' times of washing had loosened the threads. She was no more slender, maybe the lack of financial stability had also taken some pounds of her. A desperate need for money was evident on her face. She might have once been pretty, but now thin lines and dark circles marred the delicate face.

Exhaling deeply, he said, "Listen miss, it's now or never." His eyes sharp like a hawk's, to not miss a flicker of action.

Finally, need won the fight. He discerned a slight tremor passing through her hands, as she signed up for death.

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The dense weeds did nothing to calm her fears. As she walked through the broken pathway, taking great care that the cobbled pathway's broken tiles didn't tear her only shoes. The last thing she needed was walking barefoot in this chilly weather. The overgrown weeds of the un-kept gardens kept brushing her ankles, infusing the cold and itch into a horrid blend. The thin thread bare stockings did nothing to prevent the cold from trying to freeze her bones.

Those gusts of heavy wind helped her skirts dance to the eerie tunes. Barely able to restrain the unruly dress anymore, she leaned onto a tree nearby, to prevent falling. The cool bark transmitted chills down her spine. She still had a long way to go. Her teeth chattered, as she shivered violently, maybe the temperature had suddenly dropped. She pulled her worn over coat closer to prevent the cold from seeping in.

After walking for quite some time through the pathways of the abandoned settlement, she noticed the dull blue sky had now turned into a palette of vermillion hues. The sun which had no signs of visibility was now leaving. Nowadays even the sun seemed to have started practicing truancy.

The once flourishing settlement was now in a state of decay and dilapidation. Cobwebs adorned the cottage walls, marking the dormancy through ages. The bricks of the wall looked like they might tumble down at a slight push.

Big, desolate houses with unkempt, weed ridden gardens, was the only thing her tired eyes caught. She wondered how long, until she reached the end of the settlement. She was sure she had walked for more than mere hours. She looked behind, and realized she didn't even know how much she had walked. The pale blue house was no longer visible.

She looked for another landmark, and that's when her eyes caught a house. A bit further down the lane. Something dragged her towards the house. A strange maleficent atmosphere cuddled the house cozily.

Seeing the house, she was reminded of why she was here in the first place. An ill housebound husband who died only to leave behind the debt for her. As if that wasn't enough, her witchy mother in law and sister in law, who appeared out of nowhere, sold the house leaving her with nothing but the debt. She needed to pay the loan to live in peace and not let it burden her family. For that she needed to leave and before that survive.

Walking with renewed strength, she started towards the house. Entering through the open rusty gates in a daze, she walked ahead. The house was surrounded by a garden, bigger than the other houses.

As she kept walking around, leaves crumbled under her feet. Dormancy had stripped these hardwood trees bare. The crunching sound increased with each step. Remembering all those horror books she had read in her youth, she imagined herself walking over old skeletons of some psychotic serial killer. Relishing on the disturbing thought she heavied her footsteps enjoying the crunching noise.

Roaming around, she realized it was more like the house did not have a boundary wall built. Suddenly her eye caught sight of a stone like thing lying amidst the browning leaves. Walking slowly, she picked it up cautiously as if she feared it would explode any second. It was not as hard as it looked. Scrutinizing carefully for several seconds, she guessed it was a fruit. A fruit that had fallen from one of the trees.

Suddenly at the thought of fruit, her stomach grumbled loudly. It had been quite some time since she had fed herself something. Looking up she realized it was almost night. The silvery glow that the moon reflected was mellow yet vague. But it surely was enough to lead a way through the dark roads.

Walking slowly, she suddenly wondered how she was supposed to get out of the place. The proprietor had not said much. He had simply said she would know what to do when she was there. Sighing she wondered when she would magically know what to do.

A yawn that escaped her mouth made her realize how sleepy and tired she was. Looking around all she could see was trees, sighing, she turned back and left in the path she had started. Nearing the house, she wondered whether to enter or not.

A gust of wind made the decision for her. The old and mouldy door swung inwards, clearing the path in front of her. Hesitantly, she walked in. Looking around, all she could see was nothing- thanks to the darkness. Butterflies danced in her gut as she nervously walked in, careful to not touch anything, even though she could see nothing.

Her breathing was so loud and excruciating that anybody nearby, would have thought she was facing a panic attack. But maybe even that person would face the same issue since the defunct house trapped not just had musty air but also a cloud of dust.

In between fits of coughing, her whole body shook like the weeds outside. Groaning, as her body racked in pain, she squinted to look carefully. Her eyes caught a dust laden couch on the other end of the room. The wooden planks creaked, at each step she took. The state of disuse had not just ruined the functionality of the furniture but also her mental peace.

Suddenly she felt extremely warm and suffocated, this place was weird. Temperature dropped and rose like a ball thrown for free fall. Sighing she removed her over coat and draped it lightly on her shoulders, leaving her arms bare. Looking around again, she eyed the couch.

Walking carefully through one side, she walked. Suddenly her leg hit something and she yelped, toppling on the floor like a sack of potatoes.All she could see was black. Flailing her hands to clutch something to get up, her hand touched something soft. Roaming her hand around, she realized it was the wall. Slowly she dragged herself with the help of her hands until her hands caught dusty furniture, probably a cabinet. Tightening her grip on it she got up and in the process her arm brushed against the wall. A shiver ran down her spine.

Testing her foot again for injuries, she thanked God that there weren't any other than a slight twist in the ankle. At least, she could walk. Hobbling carefully through the room, she finally reached the couch. She sat down gingerly, checking if it could take her weight. Satisfied that the sofa might not break in the midst, she removed her shoes. Massaging her feet gently, she wished the pain lessen.

With another tremendous yawn, she lay down wrapping the overcoat around her as a blanket. Her body relaxed slightly. Amidst the pangs of hunger and stabs of ache, sleep finally took over.

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The harsh rays of sun broke her dreamless slumber. Getting up, she noticed she was down on the floor. Even after sleeping on couches for years she still hadn't got over the habit of turning and kicking in sleep. As she tried to get up, a yelp escaped her lips as pain stabbed her ankle. Groaning, she got up and sat on the sofa. Massaging her legs she got up again to leave since 24 hours would be up by the time she left. Still pondering over how to leave she got up.

That was when the surroundings caught her eye. The peeling wallpaper caught her eye. Different hues of pale skinny colour were patterned in a weird collage. Each and every part of the wall and the ceiling was papered. Walking closer, she stared at the wallpaper. Somehow it seemed like the papers were detaching from its corners.

Something stuck her and she brutally ripped off a peeling paper. She stared at the peel, it was unnaturally soft. It was eerily satisfying. Throwing it down she peeled off another paper. The best feeling was getting a long peel, similar to the skin which you peeled after sunburn. And soon it seemed like a game. Peel after peel littered the dusty floor.

After removing the wallpaper for quite some time, she stepped behind to check her handiwork. Realizing she had barely made a dent, she soon stepped ahead and started peeling when she noticed her hand. Slight traces of red tinged her fingers. Scrunching her nose she looked around in confusion. She picked up something red glistening amongst the wallpaper. It was dried up. She examined it for a second and realized the peel was glued with something red and sticky.

Throwing the peel down, she looked at the exposed part of the wall. It was painted red. Maybe the glue had colored the wall too. She roamed the house for a bit, and an enormous French window caught her eye. Some of the grills were broken and the glass missing. She looked through it. She half fell down from the window in shock as she looked.

In the garage, she saw flies buzzing over something drenched in red. Scared, she stumbled behind almost falling on her sprained leg. Breathing heavily she looked at her fingers and realized what this glue was. The wallpaper she had been peeling was skin. Quivering like a leaf, she felt bile rising up her throat.

Staggering behind as if in a daze, she bumped against the opposite wall. The bump woke her from the trance, and she let out an ear splitting scream, pulling away from the wall as if it had stabbed her. And she started running, speeding up like never before.

Racing like a cheetah, she reached and bumped into the front door. She distinctly remembered that she had never locked it. Panic struck her as she started breathing heavily. Heaving loudly, she fell down and shivered violently. Her heart pounded as her hands stained in red turned numb. The temperature around her seemingly dropped as stars and darkness clouded her vision.

After the traumatic experience, she got up with great difficulty. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down but failed miserably. Her shivering hands failed to hold the knob tight and turn it. After trying for quite some time, the knob turned. Relief ran through her. Breathing heavily, she shot through the doors, and ran out through the rusty gates, not even looking behind once.

She kept running till her legs could. Panting, she stopped and fell on her knees as she could barely move an inch. The sprain showed its effect now. The sun flared harshly striking a stark contrast to yesterday's atmosphere. Sweat trickled down her forehead, as hunger and fatigue took over.

Suddenly her eyes caught a booth. Looking around she realized she had started in the opposite direction. Getting up, she looked around cautiously, almost hoping that some scary being would jump out of hiding and kill her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm the storm that terror and hunger were churning.

The pangs of hunger were hurting now. Her throat was burning. Breathing heavily she walked to the booth in a childish hope of finding something for help. Trudging slowly, she reached and yanked the booth door open. A dusty telephone caught her eye. Smiling cheerfully and forgetting all her problems, she reached it hoping this would somehow lead her out of here.

Frowning at whom to call, she dialled the good ol' 911. The phone rang for quite sometime. As soon as she picked up the call, she started,"Hello, yes, I am .... Hello...", silence was all that greeted her. "Hello", she screamed as the phone went dead. Groaning and kicking the door, she again dialled 911, after a few rings, the call was picked up and a mechanical voice said, "Hello Police Control Room."

"Hello... hello, I am calling from... hello"

"The number you are trying to call is unavailable," and the phone went dead.

Kicking the blasted booth, she stormed out pissed. Suddenly a strong gust of wind blew, making her skirt sway to its chilly tunes. Shivering she realized, she had forgotten her overcoat in a hurry. Cursing her wicked fate, she wondered if she should go back and retrieve it. What if some psycho killer was waiting to kill her? What if some ghost was waiting to feed on her?

Her rational part argued that there were no ghosts and she was being a ninny. Sighing, she started towards the house as her skirt started swaying again. Rubbing her bare arms, she pulled closer, as she felt someone following her.

Deciding to not turn, she continued. She almost ran till she reached. Flunging the gate open, she ran in as the gate crashed and shut. Pulling the door open she looked for her jacket and noticed it on the couch. As she walked towards it, a gust of wind, shut the door with a thud.

Horrified she ran towards the door and tried to unlock it. Turning the knob frantically, she realized the blasted thing had been jammed. Cursing her luck, she looked at her surroundings and noticed something.

The blood drained off her face as she noticed the wallpaper. There were no peels of skin. Instead she looked at a simple whitewashed wall. Horrified, she ran towards the wall and started scratching at it, ignoring the white dust that the whitewash left.

After scratching like a mad woman she looked at her fingers and the wall. Her fingers were caked in the white of the dust. Suddenly, she started rushing towards the broken window and looked in utter horror.

The window was perfectly fine. No broken glass, no rust, nothing. Was she dreaming of the skin and bodies? Or was she hallucinating all along? Tendrils of fear more fierce than previous gripped her.

Days of hunger had addled the functioning of her brain. Her strength was waning dangerously. Strutting weakly through the house she searched the pantry in hope of some food. Suddenly a larder caught her eye. When she swung it open all that greeted her was dust. Annoyed, she shut the door with a bang that echoed dangerously.

Suddenly a tubewell on the other end of the kitchen balcony caught her eye. Running to it as if it would dish out ambrosia, she tried to yank its handle so that she could have some water. After struggling for more than an hour, a few drops of water finally quenched her thirst. Satisfied, she sat down satisfied. Suddenly, something red glinted and she started horror struck. Her hands were soaking red. Did she just drink.... blood?

Trembling violently, she looked again. Her hands were wet but not red. Her mind tried to soothe her saying she was hallucinating because of days of hunger.

Suddenly, she noticed a blood red pomegranate in the orchard. Immediately trying to get up, she fell flat on her face. She screamed loudly as the sprain in her leg worsened. Groaning, she felt weak as stars and darkness clouded her vision. Trying to get up, shot another stab of pain through her leg. Trying to drag her body towards the pomegranate, she felt the pain and weakness trying to pull her behind.

After struggling for quite some time, she finally reached the pomegranate. Just as her hands gripped tightly on the pomegranate, the director screamed, "Cut!"

Breathing heavily in relief she got up as rounds of "Good job, Emily!" and "Sensational, this will be a blockbuster."

Smiling she got up, as her manager ran up to her and said, "Thank god! This ordeal is over. That director is slightly off. Not telling the script so that he could catch your natural expressions...",

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The premiere screened for the critics went quite well. The movie would surely be a blockbuster but he wasn't satisfied. He wanted to etch his masterpiece in the audience's mind. For that he had the perfect idea. Staring at the empty vial, a maniacal grin erupted on his face.

Watching, the unsuspecting Emily sip the wine, his grin broadened. The leading lady choked and trembled as seizures attacked her. Kneeling down next to her, he whispered, "They will always remember you as the best actress, my sweet."

Laughing maniacally he left, as she lost the battle to death.

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Written with bipasha281

Entry for CBR Awards.