Short story: And She Said "No".

I stood at the edge of the concrete slab as the wind slapped into my face continuously, the force strong enough to make me lose balance. My clammy hand strongly clasped Hasma’s, who unlike me stood straight up, no movement. Her face contorting with fear and shock, she took a deep breath and left my hand; I have always marveled over the magnitude of her trust in me. Not that I ever took advantage of it, but the possibility of a person having so much faith in another piece of flesh never made sense to me in the way it did to her.

“Are you ready, jaan?” I asked. I knew that she was but I wanted this to be dramatic. I had always been sadistic. Then the feeling of ambiguity got hold of me, I was scared that I might not do it, that I might betray her. And so without waiting for her to answer, prompted by the guilt inflicted on me by my own insincerity, I jumped.

And she said “No”.

Darkness.

*****

I never liked the way she wore her hair, tightly held back in a ponytail. But I loved how that enabled me to gawk at the entirety of her face. Of course she hated me, I had figured her out, decoded her and opened up to her and made it known to her how we were the same. Even after multiple attempts at friendship she never gave the sort of response I did not already expect. An eye roll, a scowl, a sweet little “excuse me”, and at extremely blessed occasions a little nudge at the shoulder. It was not until we interned for SIUT together that she finally gave me the sort of attention I wanted. Ergo, we became friends and then of course other feelings followed suit. Was it not why I wanted to befriend her in the first place?

I never loved her, if I truly am to be deadly honest about this. If not to her, but at least to me, it was always just mere superficial attraction that evolved into a deeper emotional connection due to our daily conversations. Every time I saw her at campus, my heart did not skip a beat and the background music did not play. But of course I never told her that, I could never tell her that her feelings were unrequited. In my relationship with her I saw my share of rebellion; against the norms of my family, religion and society. 

I understand that you may not completely grasp the logic behind my actions, I mean my favorite book is “The Catcher in the Rye”; expect no great things out of me. My death was based on indecisiveness. Days passed and nights went by, we stuck together at the campus and like distanced lovers, talked to each other all night, every night. Gradually and invincibly so, reality knocked on our happy abode the day college ended and Hasma’s mother told her that she plans on accepting her aunt’s proposal from her oldest cousin, Adil. I felt angry, not because I loved her too much to accept the idea of her getting married to someone else, but because things were not going as I planned. The scene I had to create in front of my family was to come before the entire fiasco of breaking up.

All hell broke loose the day she informed her mother.

Now here we are, two girls who were seen as a ”threat” to the society, standing at the rooftop of the apartment building, gazing down into nothingness, holding hands, implementing the vow I made in jolly mockery. “Till I die,” I had repeated after her.

Till death, I did.