The Forgotten in English Moral Stories by Arjun Hariharan books and stories PDF | The Forgotten

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The Forgotten

The Forgotten

(1)

Am I chasing him, or is he chasing me? I think I have lost count of things all over again. Why am I running and for god’s sake who is this crazy man? I have reached a dead end with nothing but a huge wall ahead of me. Standing close to the wall is this short fat man with bruises all over his face.

“Please let me go”, he cries.

“Wait, what happened? Who did this to you? I can be of some help”, I said.

The expression on the man’s face changes to that of utter bewilderment. He glares at me as if I am some kind of a maniac. But I’m not, am I? I have no idea as to how I ended up here and nor can I find any logical sense as to why this man is scared of me.

“Listen, I have a problem. I cannot make new memories. I might even have already mentioned this before. Do I know you?”

Hearing this, the man pushes me hard as I stumble over a garbage bin. He runs screaming, “Help! There’s a psychopath in here!”

(2)

“Why do you keep forgetting that you’ve got to find the person who murdered your wife?”, says a red haired woman sitting opposite to me in a restaurant table.

“I have this condition where I can’t make new memories, I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“AMANDA! For god’s sake, check your photographs Eddie!”

I take out my photo collections from my pocket and find a picture of this woman who is sitting right in front of me with “Amanda – She’s my friend” scribbled at the bottom.

“You shouldn’t have let Gilmo escape”, she said.

Seeing the bewildered look on my face she says, “The short fat man you had cornered yesterday at the Alley. He was the key to finding Frederico, the man who murdered your wife, Eddie!”

Amanda’s right. How can I be so callous? I should probably tattoo this on my wrist “Find Frederico, Kill Him”

“Listen closely Eddie, there’s a reason I called you here. Take this, he’s Frederico, he might try to woo you by saying he’s your friend and impersonate himself as Stanley. But he murdered your wife. You’ve got to find him. Understand?”, she said.

I take the picture from her hand which is that of a bespectacled man with a bushy moustache and a smile over his face.

“He brutally murdered your wife Eddie. You can’t let him fool you!”

(3)

Am I chasing him or is he chasing me? Sweat is pouring down my face, my hands and legs are moving in unison as I run past the busy Downtown Street. I turn around to see a humongous, well - built man, having a stick in his hand and wearing a police uniform run towards me.

“Stop right there or I am calling backup”, he screams.

I continue to run. But wait, why am I running? Why is this cop chasing me? I should probably stop and clarify first.

“Sir, I have no idea as to why I am running. And why am I being chased?”, I ask.

The cop starts towards me to knock me down, but stops seeing the innocence on my face. Probably he is convinced that I know nothing.

He takes out his phone and dials a number. “Godin here, I think I found the weirdo with that memory problem you mentioned. Found him lurking near the corner of street 10 where we had received rumors of drugs being sold. I’m going to hand him over to the local station here”

Just when the cop had replaced his phone back to his pocket, he realized that I was gone and nowhere in sight. I don’t understand him handing me over to the police. I am a good citizen, right? There’s surely a misconception here. I can’t go to jail for no reason. I have a task to execute. I have to find my wife’s killer. I run past the crowded market as I give a quick glance at the tattoo on my wrist “Find Frederico, Kill him”

(4)

“Eddie!”

A bespectacled, short man with a bushy moustache walks towards me to shake my hand. I can see that he has a sense of familiarity, like he knows me already. However, I’ve never seen this man before.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got a condit..”

“Yeah, Yeah I know about that Eddie. You don’t have to tell me every time we meet. Now quickly check one of your photos for fast. I have something important to talk to you about, Eddie”

I take out the bunch of photos that I always carry with me. I see this man’s picture with “Stanley – Friend” scribbled on it. Hold on. I see another picture of this man with “Frederico – He killed your wife! Impersonating as STANLEY” written at the bottom. I instantly become alert.

“What now Eddie? Come on let’s grab a cup of coffee before I enlighten you about a very serious issue. In fact, I had even written to you about this. Don’t know if you’ve seen the letter I sent”

I sense the revolver I carry with myself. Hang on, this place is crowded. I can’t kill him here.

“I know a place where they serve really good coffee. Let’s drive over there”, I say.

“That works for me!”, says Frederico with a big smile over his face.

We drive past the city into the outskirts. I need to find a place where there aren’t many people. Frederico is blabbering about his work and how painful it is to be a cop these days. We have now reached a deserted highway as I apply the brakes.

“They serve coffees at such highways? I can’t even see a soul in here Eddie. Why’d you stop the car?”

We get out of the car and I point my revolver straight at him. “I have you cornered Frederico!”

“Frederico? What are you talking about Eddie? Put that gun down. You’re being framed. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about!”, said Frederico.

“What do you have to say? Huh? That you’re Stanley and you’re my friend? Not going to believe that I swear!”

“Put that gun down Eddie. We can talk and sort this out”

I see myself shoot right at his chest, not once but thrice as he falls over to the ground, dead.

(5)

What just happened? What time is it? I look out of my window and see the bright sunlight enter the house. I move past the table and see a red haired woman lying flat on her back in a pool of blood. There’s a bullet hole on her forehead. It seems like she has been murdered. Was I not there in the house? How did all this happen? Who is she? Do I know her?

I take the pile of photos from my pocket and see a similar red head woman’s picture with the name Amanda scribbled at the bottom. She’s my friend, someone murdered my friend. In a state of panic I rush to the telephone desk and dial the local police number.

“My friend Amanda has been murdered at my home. I have no clue as to what is going on!”

(6)

I get out of my bed on hearing the knock on the door. I see a red haired woman who instantly reacts to my bewildered expression.

“I am Amanda. Check your photos Eddie”.

I take the pile of pictures to find her photo. She’s indeed Amanda, a friend of mine.

“I have a new lead Eddie. There’s this man named Solverson, who killed your wife”. She hands a photo of his to me. “It’s been 1 year Eddie since you’re on the run to find your wife’s killer. Finally, I was able to trace this man. He’s all yours now. It’s time for you to seek revenge”

I am filled with an intense feeling of vengeance as I move over to my desk to find my marker. I see a letter placed on the desk addressed to me. I open it. It has a photo of Amanda with a note.

Eddie,

Stanley here. I need to see you asap! A woman called Amanda is using you to carry out illegal drug business on the pretext of finding your wife’s killer. Don’t fall for her.

Regards

Stanley

I can hear Amanda blabbering about Solverson in the background. I feel my revolver in my coat pocket.

“You’ve been using me Amanda! Aren’t you?”

There’s a change of expression on her face as she stares at me and then the letter I have in my hand.

“Oh, so someone out there has informed you that I’ve been using you. Well, if that’s what you feel, then you’re Goddamn Right Eddie!”, she blasts with a feeling of rage.

“You want to know what this is all about? Listen up closely you moron. I’m heading the meth business in this town. I control the supply and the distribution and I take care of anyone who comes in my way. Every cop who has tried to stop me has been taken care of. Any guesses who helps me in here?”

My expression is intense. Deep down I know I am the one. But it is impossible to believe. This just can’t be happening. Amanda is my friend, isn’t she?

“You Moron! You! You’re the hitman I use to carry out the killings. You remember Gilmo? Of course you don’t! I was the one to set you up to execute that fat cop who was stationed to catch the drug scandal in the town”

“You’re just like a puppet that dances on my orders. Day and night you help me sell meth and kill people who come in the way of my business. But you don’t have any clue, do you? It’s pretty simple to pursue you to do my work. All I have to do is blame a person for your wife’s death. That’s enough to ignite your rage and have a guaranteed murder”

“I guess you’d have executed Stanley by now who has written this letter to you. Since quite some time he’s been trying to lay his hands on me. That poor cop. You just killed your friend Eddie! Stanley worked with your wife as a DEA agent to fight drugs. Poor guy ended up with the same fate as your wife”

I feel myself burning with rage. I have no clue about what is going on. Did she just mention my wife? What happened to her?

“You know what’s the best part about all this? You aren’t even going to remember anything I said because of your so called condition. You can’t even make new memories! Haha! In a few minutes you’ll forget everything that just happened and go back to your usual way of living. Running and chasing people, doing the work I order you to do!”

“Since I have gone this far, why not tell you something more. I was the one who murdered your wife Eddie! She knew about my meth business, tried to stop me and I got her murdered Eddie!”

I feel horrified on hearing this. The killer of my wife stands right in front of me, laughing and mocking my condition. There has to be a stop. I’ll put a stop to this. Tears flow down my eyes as I feel for my gun in my coat pocket.

The next moment there is a scream and a bullet flies from my gun, penetrating right into Amanda’s skull as she collapses down on the floor like a ragged doll.