Truth: Her Unheard Tale

Air never felt fresher than today, how it makes my light hairs float in the air. It makes me feel light as I walked out after living in prison for three years. Nobody came to visit me, was it because of guilt or embarrassment. Maybe denial is the answer.

I looked around and took deep breaths as if I have brought back to life, but I know this feeling will soon fade when I reach home. I don't wanna go back there where I was being held for imprisonment, and nobody defended me. They didn't even try to fake it. I think of options, places where I can stay until I get a job and get my life together, but for the past years, everybody has loathed and resented me. Even my friends don't wanna see me. Guess my only stop is my not so sweet home.

An explanation is what they have wanted for years. Exactly after six months of being held in prison, my father came looking for me. The term looking may look like he was concern about his daughter, well that not the case. He came for an explanation, and how silly of me to let those tears roll out of my eyes because I thought he came to check his daughter.

I decide to walk to get there, as I hadn't get money. As I stepped on an aisle and walked passed by a mirror, I moved back to see myself. I haven't got to see myself in such a clear mirror. I stand in front of it. My hairs have become frizzy and light; the dye from my hair has vanished. Nobody could see and guess my age, I have spent my sweet seventeen inside the prison, and now when I'm free, I'm twenty. My glowy skin now has acne and spots; the dark circles underneath my eyes now hold a part of life. The only I'm glad to have is my maturity and punches of reality that I had all these years. A smile appeared on my face as I remember my lonesome journey.

I started moving forward and got on my street, until some known faces seemed unknown to me now, gazing at me as if I'm nobody but myself. I didn't drop my gaze down. Why should I? I have no regrets. These past three years have made me own what I did. But I do remember how the seventeen-year-old version of me was feeling. I was scared when I shot his chest, how loud the sound of the bullet was. I had never killed anyone, but what he did was unforgettable and unforgivable. Killing him was the only way to seek vengeance because If I hadn't pulled the trigger, he wouldn't get the punishment of his sin; instead, he will get away with that easily.

I don't know when I reached my house's door; these thoughts had all my attention since I have entered my street. I don't have the courage to knock on the door. It's not because I am guilty of my act. It's because I am not guilty.

Before I could knock, somebody opened the door. It's Nora, my dad's second wife. We made an eye-contact for a second then left the door, and then went upstairs. I got inside, didn't asked how she knew that I was standing outside.

I looked around, and this house felt empty and suffocated, as I have to die every night to live the next day. I hadn't seen this place for the past few years before it had liveliness in its every nook, but since I lost my mother, I don't see any hope nor live inside this place.

I went upstairs to settle in my room so that I don't have to face anybody until dinner time. I reached my room and tried to open it, but after putting a lot of effort into opening it, I realized that my room is locked from inside and I wonder who it is? I knocked on the door. It opens, and I saw her, his sister, Ellen, we made eye contact, she didn't budge from her, guess now she owns my place. Never thought I would be replaced so soon; she glares at me, I did the same. I wanted to fight for my room, but I didn't, instead pushed and got inside the room to get my stuff. I opened the closet, but their arent my stuff; I around the room until she said: "Your stuff is in your Mum's room.."

I went looking for my mum's room and as I opened the door, All I see stuff covered in dust, nobody even cleaned all these years. Before finding my stuff, I cleaned the room, after that, I started looking in the closet for my clothes and stuff, I heard someone coming in. I turned around to see who is it, its Ellen, she passed a smile to me, I didn't smile in return.

She set on the bed and said, "We all have forgiven you. Besides you were immature when that incident happened. So you don't be guilty" As she was saying, I noticed her, she still looks the same young girl even in her twenty. We are of the same age, but we arent a look like her life, and my life isn't compatible.

"You all think, I should be guilty of what I did," I asked her.

"No, you shouldn't be, we all it was an accident" She explained.

"Let me tell you the truth, I am not guilty of what I did. I own it like I have earned a gold medal. So you all should stop assuming things about me. I had to kill you brother, that was the only he could get the punishment of what he did with my life. You all know nothing about it; nobody even asked me, they all just wanted justice for your brother. What about my chunk of justice? Nobody even thought of it. So stop it" I answered, feeling angry at her statement that it was an accident. It wasn't an accident. She looked shocked and angry.

"WHY? WHY? WHY DID YOU KILL MY BROTHER? TELL ME THE DAMN REASON" she yelled in anger and sadness was reflecting from her eyes. I understand her love for her brother, but if she was in my shoe, she would have done the same.

I don't wanna tell her the reason because I know it will only make her feel sadder and guilty that she is related to him. I ignored her and got back to my stuff search, but she came on my grabbed my arm and said "You are guilty. and I know there is no truth behind it, you cannot justify the murder you did. Accept it."

I remained silent, but inside me, I had so much hidden truth that I know a twenty-year can disgust it, but I decide it tell her. As she was leaving the room, I said "Your brother killed my mother" as I said it I had tears in my eyes, because I hadn't told anyone this. She stopped as she heard my statement, turned to look me in the eye. I know she wouldn't believe what I said, so I decided to tell her everything. I asked to sit down so that I can tell her.

"On the night, when I came home from the party, your brother was in the kitchen, drunk. My mom asked him about food, he asked for something to eat. As my mum served him the food and out of concern, she started giving him some advice to pull himself together for life and drink less and all. After some time, he got angry and pulled a gun out of his pocket, I didnt knew that Alex used to keep a gun with him, he pulled the trigger and asked my shut up, and moved forward toward her, and yelled,

"Because of you, my mum has to suffer. Because of you, your husband let you decide for house need, all because of you and I end your life tonight, then she could only live in peace"

I was seeing all this from a corner until he pulled and place it on her head. I barged in the kitchen and tried to convenience him that she won't cause any problem but he didnt listen. He pushed me into the mirror and then shot her. I stood up, I was torn apart when I saw my mother's dead body lying on the ground, soaked in her blood. I couldn't hold myself, I snatched the gun from him. I was broken, Ellen. I pulled the trigger on him, aimed at his heart. I want justice for my mother, who did nothing wrong? It wasn't her fault that my father decided to marry your mother, It wasn't her fault."

As I confessed, tears started rolling down. After three years, I feel broken. I feel like that seventeen-year-old again, who was helpless when her mother got killed.

I looked to see Ellen’s reaction. She looks confused:

“But how the weapon had you fingerprints, not of Alex’s?” She asked

“Before pulling the gun from his pocket, he wore a white handkerchief, and I snatched the gun, he ripped off somehow and that’s it had only my prints. I was in shock, I hadn’t had any energy to explain myself and thought dad would understand me but he didn’t. Those trials were the hardest because I need to be there for my mother for the last time at her funeral, but I wasn’t allowed and in those trials, I didn't justify myself and the truth because I knew nobody would believe me when the weapon had my prints. And knew nobody would have fought for my right. NOBODY. That night was the last time I saw my mother when she was covered in a white cloth, lifeless.” I explained.

Her expression changes; she had tears in her. I know she couldn’t handle it, but she needed the truth, and that’s what I gave her. The truth that I have been holding for the past three years inside every nook of body. I hugged her and said “That’s not your fault. Don’t feel bad, he already has got his punishment” I said while patting her shoulder.

Suddenly Nora appeared, maybe she must have heard Ellen’s crying voice. She looks angry and glares at me, said “What? Now, are you gonna torture, my daughter, too? I thought you were guilty but No, you don’t even look sorry. Haven't you had enough by killing my innocent son? ” She yelled at me.

I didn’t react to it until Ellen stood up and said: “She shouldn’t be guilty because she did nothing wrong, mom.”

Nora didn’t understand until Ellen told her the truth. She couldn’t believe what she just heard. She looks ashamed of herself for being cruel to me. I understand her too, she lost her son that night, and I lost my mom. I asked her not to tell my dad about us because I want him to ask me himself about the truth if he knows me that well, that I wouldn’t kill anyone without any reason. Or maybe his denial will forever stay like a wall between us.