"Sir, do you know, I'm a psycho?" said the man with a mischievous smile, setting down his coffee cup after taking a sip.

Although I should have been surprised, I've grown used to hearing such bold statements from people who tell stories. Listening to such sensational tales has become a routine for me over the years. I, too, have a knack for concocting a dramatic narrative to make a story more engaging, a skill I've honed in my long history of storytelling.

Since the last book fair, I've been caught in the writer's block. On one side, I'm struggling with plot issues, and on the other hand, I can't seem to write anything. Another book fair is approaching, and the publishers are asking to give them new novel. To write something, you have to read a lot. I've read extensively, but nothing seems to materialize. Creating a compelling plot has been a challenge for me.

I've been pondering for a long time about how to fill the void in my plot. Then, a brilliant idea struck me—why not take inspiration from someone else rather than relying solely on my own imagination?

You might have noticed or not, a prominent newspaper in the country had an advertisement on its last page, saying, "Wants to hear your story. Storytellers will receive due recognition." I was intrigued, but not overly optimistic about it. I haven't reaped significant benefits from such ventures before.

Since then, occasionally, people have approached me with their stories. They share tales of different tastes, different genres, and sometimes even events from their own lives. I don't turn anyone away,

don't hesitate to give due honor and reward for their stories with due respect based on the content.

It passes my time well. Nonetheless, I have discovered a unique way to write my novel, and I'll discuss that later.

"Let's listen to your psycho story." I also smiled a little after listening to the man.

"Why are you telling it a story, sir? This is a true incident." Hearing my words, the man was a little depressed.

I smiled to myself; said nothing. Will he be an exception from the rest? Not supposed to happen, I guess.

"Well, okay. Tell me your true incident then," I replied.

"Sir, my wife was the first person I murdered. Before that, I was a normal people like everyone." The man started.

I was a little surprised this time. Didn't the man say that naturally? My interest increased a little. "Tell the whole incident."

"What can I say, sir?" I have come to tell you about my biggest regret. I don't know if I can tell. However, sir. The story is too long. Will it be your time? You don't have much time left though.".

"What do you mean? I don't catch your last words."

"Never mind, sir. My wife was like a fairy. We had a three-year relationship. Those three years were the best time of our lives. We both studied at the same university. Her family was well-off, and they never pressured her to get married. We enjoyed our time together. We even dared to fall in love.

After graduating from the university, I found a job. Fate was on our side. I sent a marriage proposal to her family, and they readily agreed. My family was good, I was good person and working in a Govt office; after these inquiries they didn't hesitate. My wife also played some role to earn their acceptance. Haha!"

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"Even after love marriage, this situation happened to you?"

"Sir, in every family, there are some disagreements amid all the happiness. We also had our ups and downs. Our life was going fine. But, sir, I believe fate doesn't always favor everyone. Out of nowhere, I bumped into my childhood friend, who I hadn't seen for a long time."

"Your childhood friend! What has he done here?"

"Keep listening, sir! You Know the eye of the vulture? My friend kept a vulture eye on my family. He was known as a playboy since childhood. He was more inclined to seduce girls. Despite growing up, the nature has not changed a bit. As he was my childhood friend, I didn't bother much about these either.

Before he got to know my wife, everything was fine. The real problems started a few months later. I work in a government office, and I have work ten to five everyday. I've never done anything unjust in my life, and I've always carried out my responsibilities faithfully. I never even thought about neglecting them.

After work, I would come home exhausted, feeling physically drained. If my wife found any small fault, she would start a fight, as if she wanted to argue. I was also tired, so I didn't engage in these issues. I had never been in the habit of arguing with her about such matters, and I never discussed them with her. But gradually, the limits of tolerance were being pushed.

The distance between us kept increasing. I had torn apart our relationship. I was so absorbed in my work that I couldn't give her time. I had plans to go to Cox's Bazar in December, but it never happened. But I didn't realize the real thing. She was growing more and more exhausted, and she couldn't reach me, even though I was so close. Two people are living like a dummy," then the man stopped.

By now I understand where the story will turn. This time seems to be a waste of time. I have nothing to say in this regard. I can see I feel that time is running out, and I have nothing to say. Seeing my silence, the man himself started talking again.

"That day was a Monday. I was feeling quite unwell, but I had never earned leave from the office due to illness. That day, I was feeling very unwell. I got a leave from the office.

As soon as I left the office, I was caught in a sudden downpour on the street nearby. I got drenched willingly. I remembered the rainy days of my childhood; how many times I got drenched in the rain back then. Yet, the rain that falls in my city can only be compared to spitting. Getting drenched in the rain reduced the pain in my head a bit.

My mind felt better. There was a flower shop by the side of the road near the office. As I walked by it, I paused for a moment. I saw many jasmine flowers there. Jasmine was her favorite flower. I bought many of them from that shop.

My house is quite far from office, it would take a solid two hours to reach there. If you get into a jam, there is nothing to say! As it was not office break time that day, there was no traffic jam on the road, I was able to cross in two hours. I could just think of giving my wife a pleasant surprise.

However, perhaps not returning home that day was a good thing. But what I saw when I did return..." The man let out a long sigh, pausing for a moment. He seemed lost in thought, gazing into the distance, just trying to reach his memory.

"Please, continue?" I spoke. He snapped back to reality hearing my words. The man seems a little sick, breathing frequently. Who knows if it happened to remember the old memories! Twenty minutes have passed since the beginning of our story.

"I saw in the bedroom that they were indulging in physical intimacy, like he was running on top of my wife. I couldn't understand what was going on.

I don't know what was happening in my head at that moment. I saw the panties and bras scattered all over the place. I, too, enjoyed it for a moment after standing there for a while. Neither of them saw me...

I slowly went to the kitchen. I tried to find something there. But don't know what I was searching for. Suddenly, my eyes fell on a knife. Next to the knife, there were some chopped vegetables. I picked up the knife in my hand. Then, I slowly came back to the bedroom.

The first stab was on my friend's neck, but it didn't land properly. He was just screaming like a slaughtered cow. My wife, too, was very afraid and had hurried to hide. I gave her few stabs also, with a smile. She died very soon. Poor thing!

But my friend was still alive, screaming. I gave him peace at once. There is a river near my house, it was no problem to tie two people with rocks and drown them in that river.

To be continue...