The Fine Line

Chapter 23

Zarah's POV

Before, it was pure hatred for Saira. But the last few days has morphed
the hatred in me to something close to sympathy. Saira never rooted for sympathy. She was a person of aspirations and her heart was filled with determination. But all her dreams and fantasies were crushed and incinerated when mom died. It was clear that she wasn't ready to hold responsibilities. But she did her best. She dumped her writing career for IT courses to get a job fast. Dad never left the house, quit his job after mom died. Though he did want the best for us, all the life was drained out of him. Saira had to do everything. dues and payments became her burden. She paid every dues, fees and payments of my studies. And now I couldn't pay her back even if I wanted to. I owe her every ounce of blood left in me. Even with the last few breaths left in her, she gave me all her love. after all these she thinks its her action that went wrong between us, its her sins thats to be redeemed.

Sometimes I think its better that she died. Its better because she deserves so much better than an invisible dad and a fucked up sister. Its better because she was a great human being to suffer for the mistakes she never did. Its better because she was so good a person that she deserved nothing less than heaven.

"see you on the other side", she said.
Even after witnessing my mistakes and heaps of bad deeds, she still believes I'm a good person. How naive. Well, I know better and I ain't a heaven person. I would never see her again. My tainted soul would never let me.

DIya had seen Saira writing in that journal on the corner beside the bay window. It had to be there.

It didnt take me much effort to find it. the floor board was already loose. One little flip and the boards toppled over the floor. It was covered with cotton cloth, so gently. The leather cover had a tint of green on it. Even nature had been kind to her. A thick cotton thread tied over it.

My fingers track the embosed circle. I sit on the same corner where she used to sit with the same journal, writing down her thoughts. A low breeze filled with the scent of peonies fill my nostrils, gently tugging the hair strands on my forehead. Saira was much like the breeze, gentle and caressing.

I was emotionally damaged. being able to feel emotions deeply is both a blessing and a curse. but every encounter with love and emotions only proved to be a curse. Everytime, I end up getting hurt whenever I took risks. My aggressive attitude kept people away from me. Everyone labelled it arrogance, but in truth all it was was a self-defence. I did what I had to do to protect myself from pain and torment. The embers in my heart slowly ignite with every thought, the  long lost ability to love and care. Everytime I felt something, I put it out, never allowing it to grow and control whats left of me. I taught myself to be cold and blue in the presence of love. It was all too easy with the momentary relief from drugs and the firewall I put stood concrete and still until Diya's arrival. But now, theres something blocking me from the embers of flame from being put out. Suddenly the firewall appeared around the embers. And that embers spread like a wildfire with every word on that letter. I don't know where this fire would take me. But I'm ready to take one last risk for her. I don't care if I end up getting hurt. Because people are worth loving but some are worth suffering for.

The journal lay on my lap. Diya waits patiently on the bed. She said she wanted me to read it. She said it was meant for me not her. I have nothing clouding my mind right now. No drugs nor hatred. I'm blank, much like an innocent child's. With too many questions lurking through my mind, I decide its time for some answers.

I open the journal and a strange smell fills my nostrils. The inked pages lay open to me as a gateway to Saira's mind. but the journal is bookmarked in the middle. With a peony. A lifeless peony lay on the middle page. The peony reminds me of Saira's love for flowers. Flowers made her happy. Everyday there would be a flower placed in a glass filled with water. she would care for it and they reciprocated her love too, filling the room with their scented love. The flower represented her now, lifeless and drained of color.