Until I met him

Sometime, in the past

I had a sister, her name was Maya. I was just 2 years older than her. When she was born, I took her in my lap and looked at her. She had pink eyes, pink nose and her body looked so beautiful, that we named her Maya, God's power. That year, papa won a lottery and my mother got a job. She was simply lucky for all of us. I loved her, but God wasn't that graceful. One day, when I was 6 and Maya was only 4 years old, we were playing in Papa's office. He just joined this hospital and had to work overtime to earn enough money. My mother too got a job in that same hospital and was often busy with mentally ill teens. Having bored and nothing to play with, I and Maya chased each other through the hospital. Most of the nurses shouted at us but we were so lost in our game that we didn't care. While chasing each other we entered a room.

People were lying on the bed and their hands were strapped to their bed by hand cuffs. This was a strange sight for us. Why will any man be tied to his bed? Some men were also playing with toys. Also, why will any man play with toys?Then, a friendly looking man called us saying “Hi! will you be my friend? I have toys to play with”. We hesitated as, though we were kids but still we had the knowledge that we should not go to unknown strangers. But when he showed us his toys, we couldn't resist. He had a long syringe, some bottles having colourful liquids, a knife and some scissors. He said “Let's play doctor- doctor” and we agreed, after all how can we deny such a friendly man. We played with the scissors and bottles and then after sometime the man said“ See, you are using the knife in a wrong way, you have to keep it on your hand and cut like this”, he demonstrated for us by moving the knife back and forth near his wrist. Delighted by this advice, we did what he said. Firstly I gave the chance to do the honours to Maya, but she threw the knife at the nearest wall. Irritated I said “No, don't do that, see, do like this” I took the knife and moved the knife back and forth on her wrist and something red started oozing from her hand. Maya started crying, thinking she has pooped in her diaper, I shooed her and did my work. Hearing her cry, my parents came running towards us and took the knife from me. My mother scolded me and my my father immediately took Maya to the ICU. I lay there wondering what I had done wrong? I didn't knew what was wrong but judging by the facial expression of my father, after he returned from the ICU, I knew one thing, Maya was no more.

After that incident I wasn't able to sleep one night without crying, I cried every day and night. My mother told me it was my fault that I killed her but my father supported me saying that it wasn't my fault. Actually, while playing, we accidentally entered into the mental ward where people with serious mental conditions stayed. There, one man lured us into playing and while doing so, I slit Maya's wrist. My father consoled me that God loved her and wanted his child back, so he took her soon,but deep down I knew it was my fault, after all it was me who did this crime. Since then, we never remembered Maya, we don't keep any picture of her in our house and we don't speak  about her anymore, as it brings back old memories. But still bad memories can never be forgotten , there maybe a particular part in our brain that stores them and releases them whenever it wants.A long time has passed since that incident but I think, still that memory haunts me in my dreams. Still, that guilt has been consuming me from inside. The guilt that I killed my own sister, my one and only sister.