Disclaimer: The plot is a true story confessed by someone. The murder mystery has remained unsolved till date. The ending has been modified so are the Names and Places.
My name was Noor. I was doing my internship in School of Fashion Design, Newbury St, Boston. Noor means Light. My father, who is an Indian by heart, named me after my Ammi who passed away years before he got married to my step mother. I lived with my parents and a younger brother in 435 Marlborough St Apt 4, Boston.
I was murdered when I was 17. The news and the missing reports were containing one of the favourite picture of mine. I’m sure my father would have given that photograph to the cops who were investigating my missing case. He always remembered my likes and dislikes. He used to buy a bucket of fried fish every weekend while returning home. A pair of pink woollen hand gloves were my favourite and I am sure he might have kept them even today. They were thick, wooly and so warm just like his love for me. In school I was an average blonde. There was a girl with blue eyes and toned legs that she always used to flaunt with a pencil skirt. Many boys were crazy after her except that one guy. His name was Harrison Worsfold. He too was a member in Chess Club like me. I was an introvert and Harry was the same but he got a best friend Oliver. I never talked to Oliver though he used to appear with Harry in combined classes sometimes.
I never expressed but I was liking Harry. But he didn’t kill me. In fact he didn’t know I was murdered. I was killed by Oliver. Oliver Barnham was a cool, calm and collected guy. As far as I knew, he was the least known boy of our school. Harry and Oliver used to share the same apartment in Beacon Hill that was not too far from the place I stay.
It was a December evening. Due to heavy snowfall, roads were blocked. My cell phone was running out of charge. Dad might get panicked if my number wouldn’t connect. Mother never gets worried if I come home late. She couldn’t accept me as her daughter. I was happy. Since few days Harry wasn’t attending classes. Many times I thought to ask Oliver about Harry but today his text was a relief. He got injured in inter school Rugby match. I sincerely wanted to reply him with few warm words and a meme but I chose not to. I planned to pay him a visit after school. Before snow storm gets worse, I started walking out of library towards Harry’s stay.
I knocked on the door while cleaning my shoes on the foot mat. It was Oliver.
“Hey! You here?“, Oliver asked and before I answer to his question, he insisted me to get inside as it was too cold outside. I quickly went inside and Oliver took the umbrella from my hand.
“Do you want Coffee or Black Tea?“, Oliver asked politely.
“Tea would be good. Harry isn’t home?“, I asked while keeping the bag and winter cap on the teapoy.
“Oh! I just forgot to tell you. Harry is out for some work. He must be on his way back home. Would you like to wait? By that time I would like to discuss the papers on Semiotics with you for semester.” Oliver said with a convincing voice .
Oliver was a genuine guy in school. There was a rumour that one Mongolian girl from our juniors was in love with him. I wasn’t sure whether Oliver too was attracted towards her or not but he was quite good for a relationship. Harry and Oliver were like minded. I decided to wait there till Harry comes. I asked him for a cable to charge my cellphone but he said he didn’t have one and Harry carries his cable with him only. Soon Oliver got two hot mugs of coffee and we started talking over our project.
“Coffee was good.” I complimented finishing last sip.
“Guess what Noor! You must try the beans I prepare. I’m a good cook. I heard Indians love beans. Is that true?” Oliver was praising his own recipe of making beans and potato with some sizzling flavour while clarifying his queries about the Indian appetite.
Ammi uses to prepare beans. It was one of the favourite dishes of mine. I dozed off while talking to Oliver, I had no idea that I was falling asleep. The last thing I remember that Oliver was holding me carefully and helped me to lay down on a couch. I never woke up from that sleep.
That night I returned. I almost ran to my home. I didn’t realise that I was dead until I saw my father searching for me even though I was standing, right in front of him. I was murdered. First I was poisoned by my boyfriend’s friend, then I was brutally chocked to death by him and finally I was raped by him many times before he hid my body inside something dark and dusty.
I tried to tell my father about what happened to me but he was unable to hear. I could clearly feel my words evanescing into the air before they reach to him. I saw my step mother sad for the firs time because of me. I never saw her loving, needing or caring for me. I felt good. I wanted to console her but no-one could hear me. My father would bang on each door in neighbourhood and would ask about me. That night was the longest night of my life-afterlife.
I was missing since 2 days. I saw my father was sad, tired but he never gave upon me. I remember when I was in high-school and one afternoon I came home late by an hour, my father almost lodged a missing complaint and by the time i reach home, I found almost a dozen cops around my home.
I am Noor Begum and I died on 7th December, 2009. Its been a week since I am dead. Everything got devastated for my parents since the day I got missing. Being a sophisticated Muslim, my father decided to call my grandmother who used to stay in India, during those days. She was the closest person to me besides my father. Soon after she arrived, the very first thing she did was calling my father’s name loudly and asking for a stuff of mine.
“Munaf! Get me anything that was more close to Noor. Anything like her doll or her book or any stuff that remained near her for a long.” She said.
At first dad couldn’t understand anything but did according to her commands. She was sensing my presence in that house. She was shocked and explained the same to father that its unusual that she was feeling my existence there. She’s an expert in black magic and claims to know supernatural facts.
“Munaf! I can sense her presence around us, here in this room. She isn’t only missing, instead something really worse happened with her.” She said.
For a moment my father got shocked and almost fell on the floor but he stabled himself within no time and in the very next moment, he decided not to give up on me in this way. He consoled grandmother and contacted the cops and asked about the investigation. I stood silent, looking at them. I felt broken seeing my father breaking down and decided to move out of my home.
Soon after the moment I stepped out of my home, I automatically found myself in the room, I was murdered. I understood there is some kind of an afterlife rule may be, that allows the soul stay at two places, the place it borns and the one where it dies.
Harry’s room was cold. I saw Oliver talking to a middle aged man, whom he was addressing as uncle. They were discussing vividly about Noor’s body and cop’s investigations. That man was somehow related to the police. Oliver was shouting.
“That bitch is still laying inside the fridge, Uncle. yesterday two policemen came for an inquiry. They asked whether I know anything about Noor before she got missing. Say what to do.” Oliver looked at that man with a fearful eyes. His clear green eyes turned reddish due to sleepless nights or for his own guilt, it was hard to find. I was astonished knowing that my body was still there inside that room. I wished to run to my father and cops and guide them to the room but I was a helpless soul of a dead girl.
Slowly I walked towards the fridge that Oliver kept inside his bedroom. I could clearly see the drops of blood on that. I gently touched the fridge door and stayed there for a while until i heard the door bell. It was Harry. I ran towards him without realising that he wouldn’t feel me after all I was dead and he had no clue about that.
Harry was out for a week to his hometown. That evening I didn’t update Harry about my arrival so he had no clue that I was coming to his home to see him. He updated Oliver and left. He texted me the same but as my cellphone got switched off, I didn’t know of it. Harry was sad and I could clearly see that he was quite disturbed hearing that I was missing since a week, since the day he left. Oliver wasn’t ready or may be he got too scared seeing Harry there in the room.
“When did u see Noor last time, Oliver?” Harry asked.
“No Idea buddy. I too heard she is missing. Did she contact you during these days?” Oliver replied with a following question.
“No. I hope she’ll be back safe and soon. I haven’t yet told her that I like her.“ said Harry.
The stress was clearly visible on Harry’s face. He was missing me. He was missing my presence even though I was standing right in front of him. He had a fear of loosing me. Soon he held a piece of paper out of his pocket, held it open and started reading that. That was a love letter Harry wrote for me.
No one bring so much happiness to my life as you. In your company, I find love that I have never known before. I can’t imagine what my life would be without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
Your eyes says that you too are in love with me but I don’t know whether you would or not. You have been lighting up all the darkness and bringing joy to my heart. When I am with you I feel alive and strong.
When I will hold your hand and say ‘I love you’, I would mean every word of it. I promise I would always love you. Would you like to be mine?
I was reading the letter and I felt drops of warm tears on my hand. My soul was weeping in pain. I died and I didn’t have my first kiss yet. Harry was sitting silently on the same couch where I was murdered. Oliver was standing numb and that middle aged man was silent. For a moment I thought Now Harry would discover my body and my murderer will get punished but I forgot, Oliver was not that innocent to be caught. He was a sick cold blooded murderer. He satisfied his unnatural urges with the dead body of mine. He somehow convinced Harry to go on a drive by the time he instructed his uncle to dump my body somewhere far from the city. Harry went out but left the letter over there, the one he wrote for me. I saw the man dragged the fridge to the car and drove it out of the city towards the foothills. He dumped my body into a river and cleared all evidence that was linked to my murder.
After days the case was closed and everybody started forgetting the existence and the vanishing of a teen girl. Oliver never stayed in that home anymore. He locked the room for the time till things get normal. The letter Harry wrote for me was left behind in that room so was his love. Soon Harry forgot me when Oliver started narrating a story that he heard that I eloped with a countryside guy. Sometimes he saw me in his dreams but he only got a fear out of it. It was hurting me when I heard my mother talking to a neighbour about her step daughter Noor, describing her character and eloping with a man. The man who dumped my body would have made up his own story about the case. I was sad seeing the world changing with time except my father. He would still search me everywhere. He would never believe the stupid stories people made about my missing and I would remain there watching him.
Many winters passed by. One fine day, on 6th December, 2010, a news came on air that changed everyone’s life. A student from The School of Fashion Design , Newbury St, Boston, was charged for practicing an unusual act with his own victim. Eleven years old Sarah, a school girl, was murdered and her body was used unnaturally by her murderer. It was Oliver, the same boy who killed me. His confession led towards a new story behind my missing, but this time the true one. They found the abandoned fridge which was still containing my rest. The room got unlocked and the evidences got discovered.
Oliver would be punished for a life imprisonment. Harry would probably know that Noor was there, searching for him, the day she dies. My father would live the rest of his life with memories and holding the woollen cap that I loved the most in my life. It would remind him the winter I went missing forever.
They say Noor means Light. A light that can travel faster than anything. I too passed by this beautiful life once, faster than others. I lived a shorter life and I died when I was 17.
I am Noor and this is my story.