Prateek Kathial
Bio
A beginner writer with some short and exciting stories, fun to read.
Stories (3/0)
Colors
Colors Barely any cars on the bridge tonight, I guess it’s too late. Who would like to be out in this cold anyway, except me. The water looks pretty cold. I don’t even know how to swim. Most of the people find it odd that I don’t know how to swim. It might be odd, or I guess people just judge a lot. Today I am standing on this bridge for my first and last jump into this cold water. Hopefully, it won't be that painful to die. I don't want to die, but I don't want to live like this either. So much pressure from everyone, no one lets me live the way I want.
By Prateek Kathial5 years ago in Humans
Illusion
Illusion 25th April 1963, the day I was born bringing sorrow in the life of my father; it was the day he lost everything. As soon as my mother gave me birth, she died and I had to live with this reality as a curse. My father never loved me after that. My grandma was the one who took care of me like a mother. She was everything to me. Every night she used to tell me stories of fairies, witches, and magic. These stories were like a lullaby to me.
By Prateek Kathial5 years ago in Horror
A Glass of Wine
August, 27 2018, six years ago today, I sat on a plane for the first time, flying from India to Canada. I wasn't scared, I wasn't unhappy for leaving everyone behind; I guess I wasn't excited either! I was just going where my destiny was taking me. Thinking—hundreds of feet above the ground—sitting in a plane about everyone I left behind, just thinking! There were no feelings attached to this thinking. I was looking outside the window trying to see through the clouds the land I was leaving behind. I couldn't see anything just lights in that dark night. I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I was up all the time, an entire flight from Amritsar, India to Doha in Qatar. I had a connecting flight from there to Frankfurt and then from Frankfurt to Toronto. I guess this is how cheap flights work, a lot of halts! I was fine with it. Sitting in a chair for 14 hours would have made my legs jam. It was for the first time for me to see so many people around me who were not Indian. A strange feeling it was, but it didn't bother me, as I said I wasn't excited. But why was that? Why wasn't I excited? Just because of regret, leaving a girl behind, the girl I fell in love with when I was 14, the girl who I studied with since I was nine, the girl with who I use to walk with every day to school and back, the girl to whom I swore to love forever. I don't know till this day why I wasn't excited that time or scared.
By Prateek Kathial5 years ago in Motivation