The Book of Life: Sweet Poison

5. Criminal

I am a criminal.

How can I not know that. Is this the side effect of PTSD? Remembering myself as a victim, but not when I was a perpetrator? How can I do such a thing? Stabbing someone? That too my dad.

No. My stepfather.

Is that how much hurt I was?

I lay in my bed as I drown in the pool of my own thoughts. It's 2 AM. I turn around as I see my mom sleeping, not really that peacefully. Her eyebrows are furrowed, like she would wake up as soon as I move a muscle. She let Sakshi and Saurabh sleep alone, and instead slept with me. She suffered so much, because of me. I am the reason for her dark eye bags. But there is still hope within me.

Hope that maybe it's not me, but him. That he caused as much pain as I did to Mom.

I rub my eyes as I slowly get up from my bed, careful not to wake up Mom. It's 2 AM. It's dark. I turn on the flashlight as I navigate through the dark rooms, landing into the dressing room and turning on the lights. I lock the door and lift up my shirt in front of the mirror.

There are scars. There are so many of them. Scars I see every day, and thought of them as a sign of my weakness. But, no, they actually show how strong I was, to be able to hurt myself in order to save myself.

I was hurt either way.

I pull my T-shirt up as I stare at myself in the mirror.

'How much did it hurt?' I asked to the mirror, hoping it would have an answer.

'Do you wanna feel it? My pain?'

'No. Not again.'

'I guess then you'll never know. My pain, my suffering, my happiness.'

'Happiness? You felt happy while he did that to you?'

'No. I felt happy when the knife pierced him. As I watched him drop on the floor surrounded by a pool of his own blood. I felt happy, for once.'

'How can you... ?'

'How can you not?' I watched my reflection laugh at me. 'You're weak.' It said to me.

'No, I'm not. You're inhumane.'

'But I'm you.'

'...'

"Isn't it actually true? It really was one of your favourite knives."

I turn my head around instantly as I hear a voice that's not mine. I turn around to see a girl, almost my age, wearing what looks like a fancy frock, but just a little more elegant. A blue coloured crystal crown sits on her head as she smiles at me widely.

A crown?

But right now, the most important question should be- What the hell is she doing in my house?

Seems more like a princess, rather than a thief.

"I will take you to the wonderland! Where there is forever happiness!"

Am I dead? Why do I see angels?

I look back in the mirror, to see my reflection laughing at me. I wasn't laughing.

Was my reflection really talking to me?

'I'm you. You're inhumane.'

I hear my reflection say as it grabs me by my neck and pulls me into the mirror.

"Welcome back, dear sister."