The Nearest Heaven

Part 41 - Letters (c)

"To Aasif and Faraaz Ali

Two stupid men who I have the misfortune of being related to. Woe is me!

Aasif Ali, I wish that you could burn and roast in the fires of Hell. Every single time that you thought that you were doing good for me, you had only ever annihilated my sense of being, belonging and of being someone with purpose.

I could not be bought by your materialism! I was not the doll that you missed while growing up. I was not here to be the 'daughter you never had'!

It sucks, but if you wanted a daughter, you should have made your own. I was not yours. I will never be your daughter.

You think that you had done something great by giving me your surname, but sadly, it was only ever a disappointment.

You are a failure. You are the poster for disappointment.

And I'll let you in on a secret, a well-known and quite obvious secret. Your son was the one who needed to be lathered in your praise, he was the one who needed all of your love and attention. I never needed you or your fake love.

Had you rather loved him you would have seen him for the pathetic waste of space that he is.

I wish you had used your eyes to see the things that were important.

And you, my little half-witted half-brother, be a man. Man up and begin to be less of a failure. Stop making the "family" name bad. Psht. As if I could care how you tarnish and sully your family's name. Ali is not my name and will never be my pathetic name. Therefore, it will not matter how much damage I cause to it. You shall bare the brunt of it all. Not me.

You and your less than average wife.

It was by mere chance that I bumped into Rasheed. Luck had favoured me that day. That beautiful, glorious, fateful day. I can still remember it, quite clearly. That Rasheed Afzal is quite a handsome catch, but what would your wife know? After all, she married someone less than a man and someone as useless and cripple as you are.

Rich, dark and thick black hair that shone in the sun's blinding light. A beautiful, rich chocolate skin colour with a shaved but sculpted jawline – one that is sharp enough to cut a diamond on it. Pearl white teeth that glittered when he smiled. I doubt you would notice it, but have you seen how angelic his face looks when he smiles? His dark eyes glow whenever he smiles. He has the softest look about him when he smiles.

And yet, he never looked at me with such softness in his eyes. The gentlest look was saved for your worthless wife. Someone who did not deserve him nor his heart. Yet, despite it all, he only ever wanted that feeble Fadiyah. He was drenched in insanity for her. Wrapped in obsession over your wife.

Nothing I ever did could measure up to her.

He was entirely fixated on your bland, boring wife and refused to see anything else but her. No other woman could entice him, no other woman could draw his attention. Not even me.

How dare he desert me for her? For that spineless, dreary, lacklustre, flat-as-a-surfboard of a woman that you call wife?

Whatever. As it was, I decided that I didn't need a man to tie me down. I am a free kite. Floating in the light breeze. Free. The only thing that Rasheed could offer me was a life of being second-best to your insignificant wife.

So, I vowed to him, that he would regret not choosing me over her.

The only thing is, stupid brother, is that he will realise it now after I am dead. My death is the cog in this machine of life that will undo everyone's faults.

Since you will only ever receive these letters on my suicide, or at least once my time of death has been recorded and only after they have searched through my belongings, I think it is time that I revealed a few presents for Faraaz's wife.

Hmph. Sister-in-law. What a joke! You do not matter to me. I am sure you know it. However, I would still like to give you a welcome, much like the one that I gave your father-in-law and your husband.

Although, before I do that, I would like to ask you a question: What on earth possessed you to marry into this family? I was forced into this family and I hate it. How can you stand to be part of this family?

Why would you want to marry Faraaz? He is a quadriplegic. Are you aware of that? He cannot walk. How can he be a man? He can barely stand on his own two feet. He is a disgusting, despicable disgrace to the family and yet, you married him. Why?

What had he promised you?

What did he give you to make someone like you marry him? Why would you want to marry someone like him over Rasheed? Are you insane... or am I for asking that question since you're married to my half-brother?

Whatever, this will never actually be answered given the fact that this letter will only find its way to you once I am gone.

Are you curious to know what I have to tell you?

I suppose you must be. Anyone would be curious?

Well, weakling, Fadiyah, oh, you feeble one, hold on tight. Sit on a chair, or on a bed or something. You are going to need it.

I am quite certain that you remember the deaths of your parents. Quite traumatic, is it not? I mean, you are an orphan. With no one to call your own. No one to love you. Lonesome soul. Lonely. Unloved. Burdensome. A dead weight, unlovable. You're almost as pathetic as my half-brother.

But see, I have something to tell you.

The death of your beloved parents? I had it planned, organised.

How?

That is the easy part.

My hands never even got dirty. No one knew and no one could trace it back to me.

See, frail one, I had a handsome friend who owns several small planes and helicopters. This stunning friend of mine also happened to owe me several favours, and I called one in. All it cost him was a life of his workers. Just one life.

The difficult part was convincing him that one life wasn't too much to consider. Only, that happened to enrage him when he compared it to the damage it could inflict on your parents' flight, but I told him that if he carried it out correctly then it wouldn't harm any person.

I didn't lie. It didn't harm them, it only killed them.

Just death.

How beautiful.

And then, my annoying sister-in-law, one more truth before I leave you all.

I killed your grandfather.

How?

Even easier than you can imagine. It is astounding what a thirteen-year-old would do to win the attention of a handsome seventeen-year-old boy, hey?

Your gullible cousin had herself weaved into the middle of my little web. I had one of younger looking friends pretend to be a seventeen-year-old. He said that he enjoyed his time with her. He said that her kisses are heavenly. I don't know if he is still dating her.

You might want to find out.

Maybe he is giving her the next batch of poisoned cakes. Maybe this time your Nani will eat them. Hopefully.

Enjoy your lives.

With happiness,

Ilham."