We didn't however move out immediately. And we had to continue college at the same place and the boys would confront her there. They threw the choicest of the racial abuses. I could see people whispering and muttering till one day Amara came back home with her shoulders slumped and slammed the bag on the sofa.

Stomping off to her room she shut the door with a bang. I didn't bother that much until I heard the click of the lock. We never lock our doors in the house. "Amara, come out. Tell me what happened?" I banged on the door. Only muffled sobs were heard from the other end. I put my ears to the door, "Amara, Amy... Babe, come out for me," I crooned.

A loud knock at the door made me jump in fright. I sprinted to unlock it. In the fading light from the sun, a tall, chiselled figure stood there. The mellow light danced on the glimmering copper edges of his abs. I blushed instinctively.

" Where's Amara?" he demanded, glaring at me. The haze of amor faded away as survival instincts took hold.

"Who are you?" I take a defensive posture by the door.

"I'm Nadim, her boyfriend," he looked puzzled.

"Can't be, she didn't..."

He cut me off and roughly pushed me away, "Sorry about that but we need to open this door so I had no option."

He gave a forceful shove with his shoulders. The weak wood shuddered.

"Amara, open the door," he pushed it noisily. No sound was heard from the other end.

"A-ma-ra-a?" my voice was barely audible with fear. Nadim didn't lose any time, shouldering the door five more times before it gave way.

We tumbled into the room to find Amara on the floor, her wrists slit. A bloody knife was in the floor a d she was breathing hard, tears flowing down both her cheeks.

"Why did you hurt yourself? They're the thieves, not you," he bent down, ripping off a part of his shorts and wrapped her arm tightly. "Thank God she didn't cut all through." That was addressed to me, who was on the floor too, her head reeling from all the smell of blood.

"What happened?" my quivering voice asked.

"She was accused of shoplifting by a store owner. She had bought some stuff from the counter and while leaving she didn't notice when a small leather purse had slipped and fallen into her backpack. Before I could warn her, the scanners beeped. She was clueless as usual, " Nadim's shiny eyes were looking into mine.

"That's so unfair," I wailed.

"They called me a black tragedy and a demon spawn. They also called me a thief and a drug-addicted whole," Amara whispered through her panting breaths.
I stood still, silenced by shock. Nadim just shrugged as if it was no big deal and helped her sit up. Putting one arm around her, he sat there propped up on one knee.

When I returned with some water, they were both cuddled against each other snugly and I could see a hint of a glow on her cheeks. So I left the two alone as I retreated to my room.

But it didn't stop at that too! Amara grew more and more fearful. She stopped going out altogether at one point. I was seeing the cheerful girl, so full of life, fading away and wilting before my eyes. I tried to talk her out of her depression at times but she brushed me off, saying I wouldn't understand being 'white and all'

The strong bond between us twins may be developed a slight chink at that but I continued loving her. Thankfully college ended in a few months and it was time for job hunting.

But what the store incident had started was completed by the rush for jobs. We submitted our CV together. She had almost 10 per cent grades better than me. I knew she'd be finally happy once she gets a job and settles down. We applied to all places together, hoping to get jobs in the same office.

I got interview calls from a lot of firms but Amara never got any. Her face would light up at each ring of the phone and then she'd pick up the phone and her face would fall, knowing it was for me. I got my job at the third interview and she'd sit at home, the light fading faster and faster from her eyes.

The every expanding crack in our relationship was becoming a chasm by now. And then something happened that changed my entire world. I still shudder to remember that day.

After almost a month of waiting, someone finally called her for an interview. I congratulated her and finally hoped things would be okay. On the D day we girls decked up in our most professional attires and I accompanied her to her interview.

I was reading a magazine and strolling near the cafe when she came out of the room in tears and pushed through the main glass doors and exited the building without speaking to me. I ran after her but she moved faster in long strides.

Finally we entered our locality and Nadim was the one who intercepted her on the road. She screamed for him to let her go and beat on his chest but he held on tight till she calmed down. I huffed and puffed to finally catch up with them. Her tears had wet the front of his shirt.

"What happened, Amara?" I asked, my voice almost breaking.

"Since I had not submitted a photo for that application, they didn't know I was 'black'. And having a black manager wasn't good for the face of their marketing form. It's all a sham," she looked at me, crying silently.

"I have nothing to say," I hugged her, as she dived her head into the crook of my neck, her warm tears feeling foreign on my skin. Amara had never cried as a kid. She was always the strong one. I couldn't identify the broken girl she had become.

We walked in silence towards our houses when a few boys on motorbikes whistled at us. Nadim stopped. "Come on. They're not worth your attention," I mumbled under my breath, taking a step forward.

"We see some good material here," they leered again. I clenched my fists in anger.

"I bet the black girl's boobs are trying to spill out of her dress for attention," one of them came towards us. Amara's hands instinctively tugged at top of her formal shirt to hide a cleavage that wasn't even there.

"Get lost," there was a silent sizzling threat in Nadim's voice.

"Won't you share your girls with us, man?" one of them clapped Nadim on the back. He promptly seized the offending hand and jerked the boy forward, throwing him in front of him and twisting his wrist. And with that mayhem broke loose. The other guys jumped down from their bikes. One grabbed Amara from behind. She screamed, trying to elbow him away. The other coming towards me received a power-packed punch. The one grabbing Amara was plucked and thrown too.

And the men brought out guns. We both froze in our spots. "Nadim, come back," Amara wailed, but he was standing protectively in front of us, guarding is both.

" Give over the girls or die," one of them hissed.

" Neither," Nadim screamed, ducking down and getting his leg. He fell to the ground and a shot shattered the stillness of the street. And as they grappled with each other, two on one, suddenly it was Nadim holding both guns and the thugs squirming at his feet.

A female scream sounded at the end of the street. "Help! This black guy has killed my sons!" "No, he attacked us and molested us," Amara screamed. "You bitches are with him too!" she screamed, quickly taking out her phone. A few more people spilt out of their houses.

Nadim dropped the gun and stood there frozen. A cop appeared in the scene just then. He look at the boys groaning on the road, and Nadim standing over them. Guessing the wrong obvious, he had tackled Nadim to the ground. Nadim didn't protest at all because it'd bring more trouble.

"You got a gun license?" he asked.

"Check it on them," Nadim spat, "It's their gun."

"My kids don't have guns," the posh lady screeched.

"It was them," I protested, "believe me, officer. They tried to molest us." He looked from the lady to me and back to the lady, obviously confused on whom to believe.

"Well, since you actually caused violence, all of you to the station now!" he glared at us, sweeping his eyes over me and Amara. Dad appeared on spot in his uniform and was equally baffled on hearing the story. But as a rule, we were all dragged to the police station. And I don't know what happened after that. We were allowed to go. The three boys and Nadim was detained.

After a few weeks, the boys were back to leering at us again, but Nadim didn't return. The lady had pressed charges and our counter charges didn't register at all as there was no evidence of the molestation. Besides him being black worked to his disadvantage. So in the melee, they transferred him to some other police station and then day after day there was no news. Amara withdrew into herself and tried self-harm repeatedly. I watched, cried and watched again until one day Amara disappeared from the house and never came back.

We searched for her high and low. Dad used all his contacts but she was gone, vanished. The police just added another person to the missing person's list. Nobody cared where a black girl was lost. Amara, for them, was just another second class citizen that died every day.