I asked ChatGPT for writing prompts, and this is the one I picked to write this short story on.
Prompt: You pick up Chinese food from a local restaurant, but when you get home, you find something unexpected in the bag.
Sushant Gupta shut his laptop, stretched his hands above his head, cracked his knuckles, and yawned. He looked around his empty office and realized that, once again, he was the last one left. He stood up, slid his laptop inside his bag, added two files, snapped it shut, slung the bag across his chest, and walked out of the office.
Stepping out of the elevator, he stepped into a pleasant evening. He walked from the office to home with his hands in his pockets. Even after being here for almost a year, he was unsure whether he regretted the decision or applauded that he was now living in China. Fed up with the politics at work, the pressure to make more money at home, and the looming question of marriage from his long-term girlfriend, Sushant had agreed to take up this project to get away from them all.
Here he was, living in a country where he used sign language to get by. He was away from the toxic work atmosphere. Sending more money home than he had contributed earlier had appeased the family. Promising his girlfriend marriage as soon as he had earned enough kept her happy.
Work was boring, but it got him money. And money helped him buy his peace. He looked forward to his indulgence in beer and a takeaway Chinese meal twice a week, which he picked up on the way. A short walk led him to the local food joint he favored.
It was funny that even after eating the food for the last few months, he still didn’t know what the dishes were called. Gestures worked as he pointed out his usuals on the pictorial menu. As he casually waited, his eyes darted around anxiously into all corners of the tiny 4-table restaurant and the open kitchen, and he was relieved to see that she wasn’t here today.
Within minutes, a bag full of steaming deliciousness and a cold bottle of beer were his accompaniments to his apartment. As he let himself in, he was thankful for having a flatmate whose work ensured he traveled almost 20 days a month, leaving the flat to Sushant.
After a quick change, he started unpacking his meal. The fragrance of the pork curry made his stomach rumble. He inhaled the fragrance the beef dish emitted, and his mouth watered. What would his parents think if they discovered that their son, who grew up in a God-fearing, no-onion, no-garlic, pure-veg household, had become a habitual carnivore? His hand dived in for the steamed rice when he felt another box at the bottom of the bag. Puzzled, he took it out. He didn’t remember ordering anything other than his usual menu.
It was a takeaway box, all right, but sealed. He shook it, and it made a muffled sound. Opening the box, he found tissues wrapped around an object inside. He looked at it momentarily, wondering if he should discard it. But curiosity got the better of him, and he removed the object wrapped in tissue paper. He gingerly felt around it; it seemed hard. Should he open it or not, he wondered again. He unwrapped the tissues with trepidation to find a rattle inside.
A rattle?
Turning it around in his hand, he shrugged. What was a baby’s rattle doing inside the bag? What did it mean? How had it got here? His conscience nudged him with a gentle reminder of Li, but his mind hastily pushed it away.
He turned the rattle in his hand again. It looked like a usual rattle, but he was missing something. He kept staring at it till he realized that the rattle didn’t make any sound. That sent a chill down Sushant’s spine for some unknown reason, and he abruptly threw it away.
He kept staring at it as it lay on the ground and let out a nervous laugh. He couldn’t believe a stupid item like a baby’s rattle had unnerved him. He picked it up and re-examined it, wondering what to do. Should he go to the restaurant and hand it to the owner, the old man, Mac, or throw it away? He was confused, and he finally admitted it himself, scared.
His conscience nudged him again, stronger this time, and he thought of Li. Young and innocent Li, the old man’s daughter who helped out at the restaurant after school. Li, who used to look out for him and pat her hair, and straighten her dress when she saw him approaching. Li, who thought Sushant looked like an Indian film star. Li, who blushed every time she handed him his takeaway.Li, who thought she was the luckiest girl alive when he started giving her attention. Li, who agreed to meet him away from the shop. Li, who kissed him once each time he called her a piece of his heart. Li, who kissed him twice each time Sushant told her she was as precious as every breath he took. Li, who trusted him till he made her regret it.
He shivered, remembering his last meeting with Li, where the tears flowing down her face made it difficult for her to gesture in the sign language she used to communicate with him. And how he had pushed her away and walked off, threatening to tell her father everything if she didn’t leave him alone. He was being cruel, he knew. But that was the only way he could get rid of her, he assured himself. Then, and now.
He wondered what to do and what was happening. Li hadn’t been at the shop for a while. Nor was she present this evening; he had checked. Then who had put the rattle in his bag, and more importantly, why? Was Li trying to tell him something? He swallowed nervously. And if yes, then what?
A loud thudding on his door made him snap out of his reverie.
More thudding followed. He knew no one here and had no visitors, ever. He was careful never to invite Li home either. As the thudding got louder and more frequent, Sushant found himself sweating. How had his pleasant evening changed so soon?
Now, someone was screaming out in a language he didn’t understand. From the voices outside, he realized there was more than one person. That person began pushing on the flimsy door while another continued pounding.
Sushant didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, the lights went off, filling him with icy dread. The pounding got more insistent. He looked around helplessly, but darkness enveloped everything. The door finally gave way, and by the faint light from the corridor, he saw three men enter. He started stepping back but tripped on his shoe. The men walked in, talking loudly as they shone a flashlight around his house. On the floor, Sushant tried to curl himself into a ball, an invisible ball, hoping their beam of light would miss him and they would leave. Silent sobs escaped his throat.
He saw the light from underneath his hands that covered his face, and the men saw him. They lunged at him, pulling him up, slapping, punching, and kicking at him from three different sides. He screamed, and they hit him some more. He screamed again. They continued raining kicks and blows. He was in agony.
They paused abruptly, and one of the men shone the flashlight in his eyes, and Sushant blinked. Before he had time to react, he was being punched in the stomach again. He heard a faint hiss to his right, and the flashlight’s beam was turned to show a knife being slid out of its scabbard. Sushant screamed. And screamed some more as the knife was plunged into his stomach again and again.
As his breath slowed, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Li was the last person Sushant saw before his heart stopped beating, and he took his last breath.