A PERSONAL ESCORT

One month later Weeks? Months? Years? Decades? How long has it been? She had now lost the track of the time of how long she had been in here. The dead body that had been hung to the ceiling had started to deteriorate. The insects, microorganisms had started decomposing it that the sight of her feet with insects crawling on it had became a usual for her. And the smell of it had become more and more unbearable for her. She had never raised her eyes to look up at her face because once when she did, she fought a panic attack all alone in the dark cell. The feet alone reminded her that she was once a living human and now because of her, Khaleda reached to this state. Her dead body always reminded her of her mistakes, the guilt, the regret. That she was the killer. And when one day Sheharyaar paid her a visit, she cried out and begged him to take Khaleda's dead body away from her sight and give her a proper burial at least. He had agreed but since that day, her guilt had been increasing. H