Chapter 52

Faulty lives. Laughable, I know but I could only cry.

Kiara

15th May 2019, Wednesday
20:30

I stepped inside, dragging my upper body by my legs, feeling sick. My breaths were erratic and the driver had already asked me if I needed help. What had I done? What had I done? Nolan's passive rage rang through my ears. His accusation, so true, it hurt to even think about it. No. No. It isn't true. None of this is. I leaned against the wall for support.

"Kiara, sweetheart." Papa rushed to me. "Are you okay?"

I nodded as he steadied me. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the hospital?"

He shook his head. "Morning shift."

"Mehak and Hardik–"

"I know, I know. Calm yourself. Breathe."

"They're–" I choked on my saliva and a tear fell down my cheek.

"They'll be okay. Everything will be okay," he said, engulfing me in a hug. I sobbed into his shirt and he murmured in my ear, "It'll all be fine." His hands rubbed circles on my back and my cheeks began to cool down.

I remembered I had fallen once in kindergarten and he had the first person to rush to me. I had screamed and ran farther because I was scared that he'd use one of those big injections to heal the wound. Now, I would give anything to stop this by just an injection.

"It hurts so much, Papa. Ash's gone, Shay's not showing any improvement. Now these two. It hurts to see us all break again and again."

"Keep trying, Kiara. Keep trying. That's the only thing we're capable of doing."

I nodded. "Where's Mum?"

He glanced down at me. "Ash's house."

I thought for a moment and tilted my head. "Can we–"

"No," he said. "You're staying here, having dinner and then off to bed."

"Papa."

"Kiara."

"Please."

He sighed. "What will you do?"

I glanced at him. What would I do? "I don't know."

He shook his head. "I was going to go anyway to pick up your Mum."

20:40

Both of them stared at my puffy eyes while Papa shrugged. He wasn't being helpful. I gulped and looked around the room. The tight feeling in my muscles was beginning to fade away, replaced by her memory. My gaze finally landed on the open door of her room. She never liked open doors, a huge reason why her room was upstairs, another reason why her silent smiles did not strike odd to anyone. Now they were so quiet that even a sharp breath echoed through her room, her majestic kingdom of paints and stuff she'd prefer not to tell. I always wondered what else could be there. Did it still smell of her? Did she leave the bedsheets dirty or had she chosen to make her bed? Had she beenstill dressed in white or had she change?

"Kiara." I was snapped out of my thoughts by Miss Apte.

"We should go now," Papa said.

"I was hoping you could stay for dinner."

My parents exchanged a look that ended with a glance at me. I raised a finger and mumbled, "Can I go to–?"

Papa sighed, Mum stiffened and Miss Apte nodded. My feet moved on their own, walking up the stairs and to her room. When I looked back, I could see them trying hard to not turn their heads.

"Does she know?" I heard Miss Apte ask and paused.

"No," Papa replied, "better not tell kids about this."

"I told Vicky the other day. It just got out of my mouth. We were upstairs and I ended up telling him it was an overdose."

My breath hitched in my throat. As if fate was laughing at me, my eyes looked down and saw her birthday dress, the same white flock. Ruined but I saw it lying on the bed, no more white, like Ash was saying it was never her colour. I blinked and the dress was gone.

Overdose.

So it wasn't just a slip of foot near the bathtub. It was the consumption of drugs that I'd seen her take before.

My eyes watered and I shut the door as I whimpered. My palm tried to muffle the sound of my gasps and tears. I had known. We both had and still we had not tried to get her help. I imagined Vee finding out the truth, overdose.

I searched for my phone, determined to call him but stopped when I remembered where he was and why. All because of me. All my fault. I wanted someone to tell me it was an accident, that it was a side effect of some medicines and not intentional consumption to die. I removed my specs and wiped my tears. They did not stop.

She was supposed to be here in this room right now, and in the years to come by. I walked over to her bed and sat down, the bedsheet crumbling under my weight and the shift in the mattress told how it had been left untouched by her. I pulled the pillow closer to my chest and inhaled her scent, floral with a touch of oil paints. My eyelids drooped and I gave in to acceptance. She was gone. A single tear fell down my cheek and then, they stopped.

Something landed on my thighs and I opened my eyes. A key. I frowned and inspected the small, golden key and smiled from recognition. She had kept it. Placing the pillow at a side, I hastily got up, a little excited. Opening her almirah, I smiled when I saw the drawer and the 5 penned on it. My hands wasted no time in putting in the key and rotating it. Click. I opened the drawer and pulled it out of the almirah. A gurgled laugh reached my lips as my hands shuffled through the contents. Our pictures, the 5s, her idea for the frame design and its various drafts. There was this one picture of us all, somewhere here. I saw Vee's smile and hurriedly reached for it. We three smiled at the camera, covered in colour, sitting right in this room. I remembered a second later, Ash had been drenched in juice as revenge for painting my shirt. That was chaotic.

"God, you're annoying," she had said.

I had pinched the wet fabric that clung to her arm. "But you love me."

"That I do."

I lowered the photograph and traced the date written on it. It had been in 2017.

"Do you still love me, Ash?" I whispered.

When tears began to cloud my vision again, I noticed a portrait through blurry eyes. I picked it up and threw it back as if it was on fire. No, no. Stop imagining things. Stop. This is crazy. This had to be. I shook my head and shut my eyes. When I took another peek, it was the same, torn right from the centre, the line travelled obliquely through the page and ended just an inch above the edge.

16th May 2019, Thursday
14:17

I was stupid, so stupid. This was my fault. Vee called me, I did not pick. I couldn't. Hardik may not make it, Mum had said when she came to pick me up early. I had called her an hour after coming to school. It had been difficult to stand there and witness my past foolish behaviour.

Gone. All because of me.

The torn portrait had been neatly folded and placed in my pocket. I could not simply go to Vee now. All I would see would be a broken friend. I'd admit Hardik wasn't that close to me but no one deserved to die. Nobody deserved to go through the pain of losing someone. Life was unfair. When I heard the door open and Roy appear, I knew I might have another shot at correcting all of this.

"Kiara? What are you doing here?" Roy asked.

"I went to the police station to talk to you. You weren't there." I looked over his shoulder and my fingers reached for the torn page and rubbed against the paper to ensure it was there. "I need to tell you that–"

I thought of Nolan. Was this right? I really wanted to tell Roy what happened with Mehak and Hardik, irrespective of the consequences. I couldn't care, not now when another person lost his life. I looked down at my shoes. If I started from my crimes, it would be easier then.

"I knew Ash had tried them once when they weren't prescribed. I could've stopped her. I didn't. I also know a little about Shay." I pulled out the note out of my pocket. "Shay wrote this and I found it after she jumped."

He narrowed his eyes and took the paper out of my hand. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips moved in a mumble as he absorbed those words, his eyes took in what I had done and his mind decided what I deserved.

"And you're showing this to me now?" He spat. "Now? Why now?"

I didn't even flinch at this tone. "I found about Ash yesterday, about how she really died."

Things started to get clear now.

Roy's phone rang and his face fell as he took the call, raising a finger at me to wait. He turned around and whispered into the phone. I took a step back. One last thing before anything else happened, just one last thing. I had to know why.