Lady Amna entered the Haider Mansion's main lounge. The eerie silence was accompanied by the howling noise inside her head.
Her grandfather's portrait had been replaced by her own. She approached the painting which was still covered by a large white cloth.
The noise grew louder. She walked over to the covered painting. Her hand reached for the cloth. She pulled it off a bit.
No, that wouldn't be nice to Saif, she thought regretfully.
She was about to turn around and walk away. But the hushing noise gave her an intense headache. The room started swirling before her eyes.
She couldn't help it. She reached for the cloth again. And pulled it off entirely. She gasped sealing her mouth with one hand, then her eyes shimmered with joy.
The painting mesmerized her senses. It was a true artistic copy of her. And its eyes were so lively. As if it were looking directly at her. She moved closer to the painting and was about to touch it.
"A true work of art. Isn't it?" A familiar voice asked from behind her.
Lady Amna turned around to face her nephew Saif. He had his arms crossed in front of him. An unusual frown was formed on his cute face.
"Oh Saif, I'm so sorry. I thought-"
"It's okay Aunt Amna." Lord Saif interrupted. "You have as much the right of seeing the painting as I have."
He smiled at her. And she returned the grin. She turned around. The eyes of the painting gleamed. As if it were sharing her newly-found happiness.
She touched the face on the painting, moving her fingers across the illustrated eyes. "It's so-"
"So real." Lord Saif completed her sentence. He walked over to her putting a hand on her shoulder. "I wish you could stay like this painting my dear aunt.. Young and beautiful. Forever."
***
The next afternoon, the Haider Mansion was packed at a full house with guests.. They had been invited for the showcasing of Lord Saif's new painting.
"Amna, I must admit." Lady Rebecca told her. Both friends stood in front of the concealed canvas. "I am very eager to see your nephew's work."
"I suggest telling this to him in person." Lady Amna said with a proud smile.
"Flattering men is not my specialty."
"Ladies and gentlemen. May I have your attention please?" Mahmood called.
He was standing next to the piece of art.
Everyone stopped chatting and drinking. They watched eagerly as Mahmood pulled off the cover of the portrait. People gasped in disbelief. Lady Amna turned to look at her friend. Lady Rebecca was awestruck almost dropping her glass of wine on the floor.
The guests started clapping. Lady Amna turned around to give them warm smiles. She looked around the crowd. Still no sign of her nephew.
Is he not here to see his own work? She thought unhappily.
"I am pleased to present the artist, Lord Saif!" Mahmood announced.
Lady Amna turned around when she heard his name. She saw him walking down the staircase. He waved a hand at the cheering crowd.
She waved a hand at him. Then realized he wasn't waving at her. She turned around and witness her niece, Lady Michelle, returning the greeting.
Amna gave her niece an angry look. Michelle lowered her hand and withdrew her glance from Lady Amna's death stare. Suddenly, Amna felt someone breathing behind her neck.
She turned around to face Lord Alfred. He had a sad look on his face, and held an envelope in his hand.
"Lord Alfred. It's good that you've come." Lady Amna told him. "My nephew would be pleased to meet a poet like yourself. He admires the art of verse."
"People admire the poetry, Lady Amna, never the poet." Lord Alfred said. "And I have not come to meet him or view his work. "Give this to Rebecca."
He handed her the envelope. The paper felt cold under her fingers. She stared at it.
"But-"
She looked up and saw that Lord Alfred was already walking away into the crowed.
She searched for Rebecca. She saw her talking to a trio of 30something year old women. She walked over to her.
"My fiancé said he wants to invite all the people in London to my wedding" One woman announced.
"He's so romantic." Another declared.
"Invite as many people as you can at your first wedding. Afterwards, you can only have a party with your children." Lady Rebecca said and they all laughed.
Lady Rebecca always had a way with words, Amna grinned.
She was about to approach Lady Rebecca when a hand gripped her shoulder. She turned around. It was her nephew Saif.
"Aunt Amna. My mentor Mr. Winston wishes to meet you." He said.
He noticed the envelope in her grasp.
"For whom is that?" He asked her.
"It's for Rebecca. Lord Alfred gave it to me."
"Then it must surely be a poem." He took her hand. "Hand it over to her at another time. She seems busy giving marriage tips. I do not like to keep my mentor waiting."
He led her across the large hall. They met with the mentor, but Lady Amna's thoughts were still on what the envelope might contain, and she kept tightening her grip on it.
***
A young carriage driver assisted Lady Amna in getting off the carriage. She thanked him and proceeded to her destination.
A large mansion covered by a gate stood in front of her. It looked old yet had a certain classiness to it. A mild breeze shook her hat. She held it with her hand, and was also careful not to drop the newspaper she was carrying. The guard let her pass the gate.
There was a beautiful garden outside the house. She saw her friend sitting on a rocking chair on one side of the garden. She kept staring at the sun. Which had almost disappeared under the horizon.
"Rebecca." Lady Amna greeted.
"Amna." She said without even looking at her. "Doesn't the evening feel splendid today?"
"I've noticed." Lady Amna agreed. "Have you read the newspaper today?"
"Journalism is quite unreadable." Lady Rebecca replied.
"Lord Alfred is-"
"Dead. I know." Rebecca said interrupting her. "Aunt Sibyl informed me this morning."
"He committed suicide. Lady Amna continued. "By jumping off Lakeview Bridge."
"Yes, yes. It is also so dramatic."
"It's all my fault." Lady Amna sobbed.
Rebecca finally looked up at her.
"Your fault?" Lady Rebecca asked surprisingly.
Lady Amna took out a piece of brown paper from underneath the newspaper. It was an envelope. She handed it to her friend.
"To Rebecca." She read the heading on the envelope.
She tore off the seal without hesitation. And took out a white paper
A poem was penned on it:
She is not of the heartless
An epitome of perfection
My heart pains less
When my eyes start moving in her direction
She is always there
Never feeling my haunting presence
Her skin is so uniquely fair
That I cannot describe it in one sentence
I must disappear now, Rebecca
So that you can at least remember me as a ghost
Surely we'll meet in Heaven
I bid you a farewell toast
At the bottom left of the paper was Lord Alfred's signature.
"He gave it to me yesterday. At the unveiling." Lady Amna explained. "I was going to give it to you. But Saif interrupted me. I-I don't what to say. I-" She started crying again.
Tears trailed down her luscious cheeks. Lady Rebecca stood up. And put embraced her friend in a warm hug.
"It's not your fault. Alfred was a fool." Lady Rebecca remarked. "Even if we had stopped him. He would have jumped off the next day. Human nature is changeless."
Amna stared at the ground trying to hide her tears.
"I am sorry..." Lady Amna sobbed still not looking up.
"For what? I did not love that man."
Lady Amna looked at her with an astonished look in her emerald eyes.
"I am not heartless." Rebecca continued. "But I did not love that man."
Those words of consolation did not cheer Amna up. All of a sudden she felt a sharp noise echoing through her ears. She raised her hands over them struggling to fade out the loud howls.
She gazed at her friend, who was saying something but the noise muted her dialogues. Then she closed her eyes and wished the noises would just go away.
Suddenly, it all became quiet in her head. Amna uncovered her ears. No howling noises. No long wails of pain.
Lady Amna left her friend's side. And started walking towards the mansion.
"Where are you off to?" Lady Rebecca inquired.
"Your home," She replied without looking over her shoulder. "I have an important phone call to make."
***
Although, there had been no grey clouds in the sky earlier that evening, it started pouring down all over London when nightfall approached.
Mahmood opened the front door. He stepped aside to let his mistress enter. She handed him the wet umbrella that she had been holding.
"It's strange Madam. I was not expecting it to rain outside." Mahmood said closing the door
"Neither was I. But it suited my mood." Lady Amna said.
She heard that wailing sound again But acted as if nothing was happening.
"Would you like anything for dinner, Lady Amna?" Mahmood asked politely following his mistress to the main lounge.
"I had an awful lot to eat at Rebecca's house." She lied. "Mahmood, if any guests arrive, including Lord Saif for that matter, tell them I won't be available. I would like to be left alone for the night."
Mahmood nodded his head. He left her alone in the main lounge. The noise entered her ears again. Then slowly drifted away.
She walked over to the staircases. Her portrait lay on the wall in the middle of them. Its eyes burned into hers. She reluctantly stepped closer as if the picture would come alive and kill her.
She stretched out her fingers. She drifted them softly across the texture. A sharp pain made her pull her hand back. She touched it with her other hand. Her fingers felt as if they were on fire.
She gazed at her two fingers. They were red. She stared at the face on the portrait. There was a small crack on the part she had laid her skin upon.
The crack expanded a little. Like a strange skin disease. But the overall portrait remained as it were. A piece of art. Yet so life-like.
Her eyes were concentrated on the crack. Something oozed out of it. Something white and slimy. Three pinky-sized insects fell onto the ground from the open crack. They were white and cylinder-shaped. Totally disgusting.
She stepped on them. Their green blood smudged on the marble floor. She heard the weird howling noise again.
She looked over her shoulder. No one there. Again, the howling noise. Then she looked again at the painting, and her eyes almost bulged out of her sockets when she saw the horror.
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