Around 10:00 PM on the 26th of February 2015, I, the author, was called out by my friend Aamani. She, agitated by some mistake in her project, asked me to take her to some store which was on the outskirts of Rajahmundry, our hometown. I took her there, without annoying her with objections. When we almost reached the place, she asked me to stop and go back to the town to get some things for her, which she forgot. She said she’ll walk to the store from there. I remember it so well: I looked around the uninhabited place and I was frightened at the thought of leaving her alone, at that place, at such an inappropriate time. I said I wouldn’t go if she didn’t come with me. She was frantic. She insisted I should go alone, for in the meanwhile she has much work to get done. Dissenting, I took a promise from her that she’ll stay at the store and wouldn’t stray away. When I was back, leaving her for half an hour at the abandoned place, she was missing.
I searched for her. She was missing. The fear, not of the unknown, but of a repugnant imagination shook me like I was a maniac. I was trembling, with fear. Anger. Anxiety. Particularly, horror. And from that terror born was this Dark Side of The Coin. What would you do if you were me? Read and relate.