On deathbed she said, " I... I..."
One moment she had her whole life to live, and another, a car came and took the life out of her.
While dying, she was muttering something.
She was letting people know, her ***** little secret.
But her throat halted her words.
For the first time, words left her.
But someone knew her secret.
Not her diary, a person knew.
Her parent’s well of tears was denying to be dried up.
And I never cried a single tear.
No, I loved my sister. But the shock of it all depraved me of liquid drops.
The shock, that she is no more.
The shock, that she didn’t even got a chance to utter her last words.
The shock, that she died carrying a secret burden on her shoulders.
Her diary gave me another shock.
She loved me.
No no.
Not as a brother.
I was her crush.
And this she never told another soul.
Under the pressure of society,
she didn’t say a word.
She secretly gutted herself.
I cannot fathom why she ever loved me.
But I understand.
Maybe if I knew,
I would have acted upon it.
That’s hypothetical.
But now, her secret is mine.
