The Indian In The Cupboard Novels & Stories

The rest of them keep calling for her name too. My eyes suddenly noticed a small cabinet at the corner. I remembered Cupcake told me that her ex-boyfriend locked her in the cabinet before. My instinct told me that I should open it even though I hope that Aria didn't keep her inside, thinking about the trauma that she will experience again. It will really break her. My hands were shaking at the moment my eyes caught her unconscious body curled in the small cabinet. Bruises and blood covered her body. It hurts me to see her in that condition.

Heart in my throat, I observe him take a seat with a couple of girls. “Let’s get a drink,” My friend, India, mutters in my ear as she leads me to the drink table. I met India on the first day of school when she snuck into our art history class. She was just sliding next to me when the teacher called her out for being late, and she said she was there the whole time. When the teacher asked for confirmation, she pointed to me and said to ask me if he didn’t believe her. Of course, I said she was. Since that day, she and I have been friends.

Denver realized he hadn’t invited her inside yet. 'Oh, come in!' he said, stepping aside with concern etched across his face. India shuffled past him, leaving a trail of rainwater on the floor. She hugged her arms around herself, trying to hide her trembling. As she entered, she caught the startled look in his large, light brown eyes, then realized he was in his robe that was barely closed. She looked away quickly, embarrassed, but her eyes flicked back to him, unable to help herself.

He put the scalps back one by one into the dried-up paint can from which he’d removed them: the fat librarian’s together with Meg Bilobran’s, and lastly Hannah’s. He had wanted to add Aaban Darwish’s to his collection, but it was not his to take. No matter. There would be others soon enough. Another sound now, the doors to the church opening and closing. He picked up the lid he had pried off and covered the paint can again, replacing it among the array of cans on the shelves. Suddenly he felt her in the storeroom with him, his Acheri, the spirit of the small Indian girl named Hannah, gray-skinned, eyes staring, her mouth filled with dirt.

He curtly replied like how he always speak. "Wonderful! You know, tonight I have a very special guest, that famous importer of smuggled woman in India is here to collect some blondies, do you know Mr. Raji?" Mr. Christmas wiggled an eyebrow while crunching his nose as if he's smelling something awful.

It's been two days since they arrived at Lakewood. It was Sunday morning around 7 am, jasper was awake he didn't know why because, it was very unusual for him to be awake by this time of the morning. He got up from the bed wearing only his briefs and the fluffy catty slippers that Mrs. Baldwin gifted him two months ago. He entered the bathroom, opening the cabinet he took out his brush and toothpaste, closing the cabinet, he swore he saw a lady behind him in the mirror, he opened the cabinet and closed it he saw the lady, this time he took a closer look at her, she looked almost normal except that her skin was too pale, he closed the cabinet again and was about to open it,

He is grandpa’s shadow, and he reports every minor detail to him. “What? Why are you smirking at me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing. I can see she has cast her spell on you already.” He answered, grinning. I rolled my eyes. “Bullshit! It’s not like that. I am just surprised to see that Indian girls carry themselves so confidently. I thought Indian girls are shy, at least a few in my college were timid and conservative. But she is exactly the contrary of what I expected!” I said, looking at the way from where she went in.

The aroma filled our nostrils, making us desire so much to draw deep breaths and fill our lungs with the delicacy I and the kitchen rag and fiancée snatcher, Cassey, made. “And what do we have here?” Laura had the smile of a kid excited by the sight of food in the plate. “Indian pasta.” I said, standing to help with the serving and stuff. Andy picked his cutleries, and readied himself to cut through his meal once it is scooped into his plate. “Who brought the idea of Indian pasta?” Laura’s eyes were on Cassey who was done opening the plates, and was aiding with the scooping of pasta into Laura’s plate, while I served Andy who could not help leaving his eyes fixated on me.

He pinched the tip of my chin, and jogged off toward two guys that waited for him. "Bow chicka wow,” India mumbled, lifting a brow at me. “That’s not the roommate I presume?” “Oh no,” I said wrapping up the remains of my sandwich. “Not him, King and I have went out a few times.” India smiled, her gaze moved out the window and she froze. “Uh, is your roommate, Maverick Booker?” I glanced up. “How did you know that?” She pointed. “Because he looks pissed off, and I know it’s not at me.”

They are so tastey and have this spice touch which is missing in here food. Now I have the chance right so I decided to cook Indian food with evil smile on my face. I prepared my favorite dishes and placed them on the dining table. I went near his office room and said “Husband dinner is ready.” “Coming babe.” He said but looked surprised by my sweet voice. When he sat down I placed his plate infront of him and a glass with cold water. “I prepared Indian food today. Hope you don’t mind.” I said looking at him very nervously. This is totally an act which he doesn’t need to know.