Interlude II: Tara: A falling star
I was seven years old when I met Khushi – my soon to be step-sister. She was only a year older than I and incredibly pretty. She didn't like the idea of my daddy becoming her daddy too, I could tell. As my mom died when I was a little baby, I welcomed the idea of mother figure. It would be nice to clasp my hand in hers when walking to school just like other girls.
"You don't like my daddy, do you?" I asked Khushi who was looking sullen and eating her ice-cream quietly.
"I don't." She replied frankly. It was a frankness I didn't understand. I convincingly started to cry, bawling actually, when she said that. It hurt a lot, I don't know why though. I didn't understand why she started to shy away from family when my daddy and her mommy got married. I was scared when I heard my dad and mom scold her for stealing a Barbie doll. She was defiant and never once cried. For an eight year old, she was one heck of a strong girl.
Things didn't stir up till we were in teens. She was being her all the time – lying, defying what my parents said and a rebel by nature. But it surprised our parents that we were close…like really close. Though she always felt left out during family time she didn't stir up too much of problems just for my sake. She knew how desperate I was for familial bonding. Sometimes I wonder if my over compensating nature hindered her relationship with my father and complete severed her relationship with her mother. She was unhappy that her mother had remarried my father in a hurry and couldn't see past the affection she had for her own father. It was a poison that was slowly consuming her.
And I ensured that the same poison devoured her and wound her up in her web of lies and deceit. We were in our teens, fifteen or so when my bored mind came up with an idea. There was perpetual tension in our house because of her and her antics and I had stopped sympathizing with her long ago.
"Would you quit acting like a royal bitch for ten minutes please?" I screamed when Khushi entered the house. I had asked my parents to go to a restaurant and forget about their elder daughter for the evening. There was a complaint from school indicating Khushi's misbehavior with the teachers. Mother was visibly upset and father had simply sighed and held her hands when mother cried.
"What did I do?" Khushi asked slinking on sofa and untied her shoes. I couldn't believe her nonchalance. The rage which my father had asked to contain was unleashed then.
I slapped her with all my might and she stumbled on the ground. All the frustrations, simmering anger and my utter dislike for her was out in open. However I stumbled a little when I saw her look at me with a pitiful look and a bloodied lip.
"I always knew that you were never the docile little girl you led everyone to believe," Khushi said wiping her mouth.
"What can I say dear sister, I hide my apathy better than you. You show what you feel while I bid for my time," I kicked her stomach hoping she would collect herself up and hit me back.
She clenched her stomach and let out a guttural moan but she didn't rise to my taunt.
I was really losing my temper now. I caught her by her long braid and dragged her to my room. My anger was increasing with every passing second as Khushi laughed at my rising anger. I had no idea why she found the situation funny.
"So, how does it feel to unleash the dark heart that you are actually born with?" Khushi is still being sassy and she is successful in making my carefully built persona shatter. I let out strangled cry and slapped her across the face with the back of my hand again. The other side of her lip was cut and it bled.
"That's it Tara…you are almost there..." Khushi chuckled. I swallowed hard and saw the multiple bruises forming on her ankles and legs. My handiwork on her face was like a bad art. I visibly gulped for losing control like that.
"Stop it Khushi." I hissed.
"Oh come on Tara. We were having so much fun! It's the first time you have dropped your pretentious little act and shown me your true nature. We should do this more often." Khushi had the gall to mock me then.
"I don't think you have the strength to tolerate what I am capable of." I snarl. Khushi giggled.
"Tara, we both know what I am already. If you are a monster then I am a demon." She stood up smoothly and adjusted her school uniform. I took few steps back unconsciously. It was the first time I was a little scared in her presence.
"I may be a monster Khushi but I am still our parents' darling child." I summon the courage to confront her and hope that she doesn't notice the quiver in my voice.
"And I wonder how they would feel when they find out what kind of a person you are," she mused idly and started to braid her hair.
I didn't hate her. No, never. I could never hate Khushi. Khushi brought out the insufferable anger out of me which I buried so deep inside of me. We were actually quite similar in a way.
"Let's find out then." I say and smile. "Let's see how gets pushed and who gets pulled."
"Do you really want to go that way Tara?" She is suddenly sporting a soft expression – a rarity in the mask of sheer indifference. "You may have tasted the darkness every now and then but I have been growing up embracing it." Her smile is tainted with tragedy.
"I know you have no sense of remorse Khushi so why now?" I ask her raising an eyebrow.
She shrugs. "It's a strange moment when I actually felt that you are my little sister." The mask is back on and she has already stopped caring which is good for both of us. "And on that thought, why don't you give me the first task?" Khushi asked looking herself in the mirror.
I grin in satisfaction. "Seduce our history teacher – that lecherous bas***d and give him a taste of his own medicine." I tell her.
"Going easy one me?" She said mimicking my grin. I shrug carelessly. I had no idea why I said that but that day we both started a dangerous game which started to destroy lives of people we knew. I thought some of them deserved it while some were too weak to even exist in this society.
But I lie in pool of my blood and wonder if I was wrong all these years.
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