Okay so I had decided to give this story for Write India contest initiated by The Times Of India for this month. I honestly didn’t get time to send them this because of my exams but yes, finally I am going to send them today and I just thought that before I would do that I should probably publish it on my own blog. Quite nervous how you guys would react to it but do let me know. It’s quite lengthy so yes, do brace yourselves.
We all have our own secrets and sometimes these secrets either make or break our lives. Even Sasha, the big time journalist has her own story. Her own dark secret.
“She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue scarf gifted by the same person who seemed to ruin her life. Full stop. I guess that’s it for now. I’ll continue it tomorrow.” she said to herself after shutting down her little journal and stretching her arms wide up. She looked beautiful even when exhausted. Prison hadn’t really affected her beauty and ideologies as yet.
It was winter 1995 when Sasha was just a little girl. Her fair complexion, deep blue eyes and her brunette shaded hair gave her the looks of an elite European child. She was the perfect child of her imperfect parents.
They had everything a person could always wish for. Name, fame, money, respect; everything. Except for that one little thing that Sasha had always craved for. Family love. This was something her parents couldn’t provide her with all their US dollars and huge properties. It wasn’t like those cliché movies where you see a broken family. It was something different. Something, which had no reason. It was little Sasha who couldn’t speak and whose mother had cancer at the fourth stage where even the doctors couldn’t save her.
Her father was upset with life and vented out his frustrations on her dying mother, who couldn’t handle her emotions because of her medications. Days passed by and things got worse; so worse that the people from social services had to keep little Sasha in the care of a foster family as she clutched on to her doll who was at that moment her everything.
Winter 2005. Sasha had gone to a boarding school in Darjeeling where her maternal aunt used to stay. She wished to stay with her because her aunt was her moral and emotional support through her tough childhood. Both of them loved each other immensely that even the social services couldn’t keep Sasha in a foster home away from her.
As soon as Sasha completed the rest of her schooling years, she and her aunt moved back to New York City where her entire family used to stay.
The apartment that she once used to call her home no longer felt like one. Just a huge, empty apartment with expensive stuff in it. New York no doubt, was the best place for fresh starts but even after all these years, Sasha was scarred from her past and couldn’t heal herself. She felt as if slowly, she was turning into a zombie with no feelings, no happiness. She wanted to scream and cry, she struggled to shout words but couldn’t. She was helpless and in agitation, bringing in negativity into her life. But this little teenager did not have a clue about what life was going to present her to in the future.
Year 2014, it was New Years eve and just like the tradition goes, everyone was out partying except for Sasha, who was now a talented and beautiful young lady. She did not let her disability to speak set her back in life. She learned all that she wanted to and now she is working for one of the foremost journalism company. She had everything that she had aimed for in life, but yet something kept haunting her. Scars from the past were still running deep through her and it was visible whenever she was by herself. Slowly, remembering all her past grievances Sasha slid opened her desk’s drawer, removing an old, yet neatly kept journal. Carefully, she flipped through the pages of that journal, living through each and every word written in it. It was as if she were living the writer’s soul lovingly. Finally after turning endless pages Sasha stopped and picked up a picture and a handwritten letter which was present in the journal. She affectionately kept the journal aside and kept staring at the picture. There was a lady, too beautiful and young-looking for her age along with a baby carried in her arms. Sasha’s eyes welled up as she looked at her mother’s mesmerising face in the picture. She missed seeing her happy, she missed her singing lullabies to make her fall asleep, she missed her presence; basically she just missed her love.
Sasha kept the picture back in the journal and picked up the handwritten letter which lay next to the journal. She knew that she must be reading the same letter for a thousandth time, but yet she read it over and over, reminding herself of the injustice done to her caring mother and making her more aware of her ultimate task. With feelings of revenge and anger, Sasha took few deep breaths and opened the letter, ensuring that no one saw her.
“My dear Sasha,
I know that by the time I’ll finish this letter and hand it over to you I know that I’ll be long gone. Still, I’m not going to lose hope and tell you things as much as possible.
Sasha, everyday I wake up to find you sitting besides me with those amazing eyes whereas I’m on the bed, all sick and helpless. I can no longer braid your hair or dress you up. I can no longer prepare your favourite dishes or play Barbie with you. I have become a vegetable, lying on my death-bed, having hopes that you’ll do justice to me.
Baby, I don’t have cancer. I am going through a disease which will ultimately kill me, and the n number of treatments they are doing or the medications they’re giving will not help, since your father has paid them well enough to not give me the right cure.
Yes, he’s the same man who has ruined my life and wanted to ruin yours too, but luckily the social services people are taking you away; away from that horrendous man, away from his evil aura to a safer place. I hope that someday when you read this, you’ll be able to help my soul seek justice.
Sasha kept the letter away into the drawer and opened the first page of her mother’s journal.
24th February, 1990.
My dearest baby,
It’s been a month since I came to know that you are going to be born and trust me dear, I really don’t care what your gender is going to be, because I and Daddy are really excited to have you. I am going to write stuff for you. How it really felt all these months to have you in me. For now, just know that you’re the best thing that ever happened to me and Daddy.
28th July, 1990.
Daddy was curious to know who you were going to be, whether a baby boy or a baby girl and hence did the sex-determination test. I know I shouldn’t tell you all this since it can harm you emotionally but I really consider you quite close to me. It turns out that you’re going to be a girl and I am so happy to get that news. But daddy isn’t. It’s quite sad to know that even though he has quality education and a great bank balance he has still got the mentality of his mother. I don’t even know why such people exist where they can’t accept you just the way you are. But don’t worry baby, I’m going to take you out of this hell hole soon. That’s a sure promise to you from mamma. Till then, I’m just going to take good care of you.
I have decided to name you Sasha for I find it a wonderful name for a beautiful baby like you. Lately, Daddy and his family have been horrible to me. They want me to abort you even though they know that it’s not possible at this stage. Even if it were possible I wouldn’t have killed you. That would be the worst thing for me. Since they know that I am going to keep you alive, they aren’t helping me in providing nourishment to you. It’s so sad, dear that I have to leave my dream job and this amazing city of New York and go back to Darjeeling to Didi. I am doing all of this for you for I want you to achieve things in life and not repeat the mistakes I did. Never fall in love with a guy like your dad and marry him. He’s a horrible person dear.
Sasha shut down the journal. She could no longer read it. She couldn’t believe that she tried getting back in contact with that same man who killed her mom and even tried killing her. She felt a burning desire to kill that man; that man who she was supposed to call her dad and opened the last pages of the journal which reminded her of her revenge.
28th November, 1995.
It’s your 5th birthday and here I am, lying on my bed, slowly giving myself to death. Unfortunately, Daddy and I are back. Only if I hadn’t fallen into his trap again I wouldn’t have been the one who was dying. I would’ve been living healthy with you and Didi, raising you. The social services are coming soon to take you away from your dad now that they know what he has done to you and me. He has turned so psychopathic that even God can never forgive him. Finally you are going to be in good hands. I love you dear, I always have. It’s just that I can’t help the fact that he has infected me with the HIV virus unknowingly which is slowly killing my insides. There’s no cure to it and I can’t escape it. I am sorry that I am going away from you but I want you to do justice to me. Remember me through my words.
Slowly, warm yet hurting tears started dripping from Sasha’s eyes. It was winter 1995 for her all over again. Her dad’s bloodshot eyes glancing at her heartlessly, her mother’s body laying cold and lifeless and the social services taking her away from that moment. With anguish overcoming her self Sasha opened her eyes to find a faint figure reflecting from her behind on the blacked out computer screen. She turned behind to find her father standing there.
“So, my assistant told me that you wanted to meet me. Well, it’s great to see you after all.” said her father smiling at her slyly.
“What do you want now?” Sasha asked him through the sign language that she had been taught.
“I always had this wish to kill you. You brought no good to our family. You even killed your mother whom I loved immensely. I guess I should finally do what I wanted to, now that we are all alone in your office. No witnesses at all.” he grew like a monster in her vision.
“I did not kill her. You did. And as for me, you can never even scratch my skin.” she actioned.
“Ahh. I like that. You have my genes. Let’s finish this off. I have been waiting for 26 long years.” he smirked as he removed his swiss knife.
He was that same man who had ruined everything for her. She wanted her revenge.
Slowly picking up the knife that she cut her apples with, she ran towards him and stabbed him to death.
“Screw you and your hatred. This is for all those years you hated me. For all the pain you’ve caused and especially for killing my mother.” she said to herself.
Sasha sat besides her father’s bloody body and smiled to herself. “ Mamma, I did you justice.”
3 years later…
“People have to know your life story.” said the visiting journalist to Sasha who now is in Chicago correction prison for her father’s murder. “For sure” she motioned.