FALLING HARD: THE BAD BOY AND ME

TOUGH AND COLD

DARREN

'You cannot do this to your sister. What has happened to you?' She asked me with wide open eyes. She was probably shocked. I could read in her blue eyes that she was trying to figure things out. She was trying to understand the reason behind my changed nature.

"Oh! you don't know what else I can do to you" I said. Blood boiled inside my head. I was young and angry. Angry at her for reasons I only knew better. I had set it in my mind that she had to suffer, day on and day off. She was a vermin. She was a threat to my position in our family.

"Sister! Ha! Sister, my foot!"I cursed inside my head.

Her angelic voice pricked my ears just like the thorns of a rose would. And her pretty face only left me questioning why didn't I ever think about the dissimilarities before? Where had my rationality gone? And what was the brain doing all along? The more I looked at her doe eyes, the more my head hurt. She disgusted me through and through.

.......

'You have a day's time, Culture; to read and understand the terms and conditions of this contract.' I smirked, realising that my words had started to bother her. She could try to hide her feelings from everyone else, but not me. I had, after all, spent 18 years of my life as her twin brother.

"And do you think I will play this game with you, Darren? I won't!" Her full lips were twitching at their sides. They were on the verge of giving up: because of the pain I was trying to make her feel. It was satisfying to see her initiating to break down. I would have felt much happier if she could have been less stubborn.

"Pffft! Really?" I laughed at her courage. She had, indeed, adapted well to the Fezong Family, adopting most of our habits and behaviours. Wasn't she a chamelion, in that? Oh! I hate those opportunistic reptiles. And it was high time to crush one into powder. "Do you think you can escape my contract? No one has ever been able to do that. And you? You too have no alternative but to sign this damned paper." I banged the file on the glass table that stood between her and me.

"A minute past 24 hours means our contract will be extended by another month. And if you tell my mother or father or anyone else about this, then I will punish you even more. Do you understand, my sweet little sister?' I raised my brows, enjoying the trance she had entered at that time.

....

I hated the very fact that I had to call her my sister. However, I continued taunting her by calling her that. I was not as cruel as her. Her watery eyes tended to change my heart. Her sad eyes had the tendency to melt my anger and frustration at her. I knew I must not fall for that, or any of her tricks. She was a pest residing there in our hearts, just like a parasite. She wasn't our own but she had the audacity to act like one.

"Shameless Liar!" I cursed again.

I had never in my dreams even thought about raising my voice at the fragile girl in front of me. But circumstances made me do those things.

"Isn't life always like that?" I had thought that I would love her, as a brother is supposed to do. I thought that I would protect her and support her dreams. I used to think that I would care for her just like our parents would. Only if my life was just as I thought it would be much easier. But learning is what life is. Good or bad, the knowledge we acquire decides our actions.

And the fact that I learned about us, about her was definitely not a good one. I had to be a bad person, a bad boy, to make things right.

"A month? Huh! Her crimes were too great to be punished only for a month. She deserved more suffering. She deserved more pain."

*****

The hustle and bustle of the class was settled with the entry of our maths teacher, Sir Avinabh Gupta.

"Class, place your homework on your table. Leaders, collect the copies and bring them here." It was known that the teacher began his class by checking our homework. The person failing to submit their homework always gets punished. And I wanted Culture to be punished in front of the entire class. So I did what I felt I should. Yes! I took her copy while she was sleeping. I had planned to embarrass her in front of the entire class. Culture has always been a role model for students. Topper in the class. An active student. Brilliant and beautiful. I wanted her reputation of being a good student to be tainted. And as planned, she was kept standing in front of the entire class for failing to do the assigned task. It was the greatest relief to see her eyes bent down. Which teacher would likely listen to the student's problems anyway.

She was smart enough not to open her mouth when she was punished.

'Poor Culture, you have to be ready. From now onwards, this is the life that you have to live. You have taken enough of what is mine. I cannot let you have anything anymore.' I continued staring at her throughout the class. It felt so good to make merry at her plight.

.....

She came back to take her seat. Tired and exhausted after standing for an entire class. I did not know that standing straight for 45 minutes could be enough to make her pale and tired.

"Was she an egg? Fragile and delicate!"

*****

'Brother, tell me frankly. Did you hide my homework copy?' She asked me angrily. It was a matter to be angry about. It was the first time that she was punished by any teacher. Moreover, all our classmates were laughing at her. A studious student and teacher's pet was getting punished for the first time. It was like a blockbuster Hollywood movie for our class.

[A record breaker indeed. Ha ha ha!]

"Don't you think you are accusing me of something I didn't do?" I couldn't help but grin as broadly as the big oak tree. It was such a pleasure to see her in such a situation. Eyes, ready to flood anytime, red rosy lips- opening and closing on their own: failing to say what she actually intended to say and her limbs, tired and devoid of energy to even hold her own weight upright.

'Brother, I remember that I placed my copy in my school bag last night. If I had not taken it out myself, then somebody must have done that. Copies don't have feet of their own. And the way you looked at me during the class was proof in itself that you are behind that mischief.'

".."

' I know it is you, brother. And I swear, I won't tell anybody. Just give my copy back. Will you?' Oh! that was indeed obvious. But little did she know that I was not done yet. I wanted her to bow down and/or beg down on my knees for the mistake she had made a long time back.

"Sure thing. You now know that it was me all along." I said, taking her copy from my bag and placing it on my desk.

...

'See. I knew it was you. Please, give me my copy back, brother.' She tried to take it right under my nose but I was quick enough to stop her from doing that.

"Nah! not like that!" I said, running my fingers across the edges of her copy. "I want to hear you plead.... even more. It depends on whether you will be able to satisfy my ears with whatever I want to hear." I told her the matter of fact.

'Brother, I swear. I won't tell anybody. It will be a secret. Just give my copy back, please.' Her voice started cracking and I somehow felt my heart getting heavy. As I said earlier, I had never made her cry. [At least not knowingly]. I had loved her and protected her throughout, until that day. Had I not known the reason myself, then I would also feel bad for whatever s**t I was doing to her.

..........

I remember how fondly our mother told us the stories of our childhood. Even when we were toddlers, my mother said that I used to give my toys to her. I used to let her sleep in my mother's lap because I loved her. I loved my younger sister so much that I was ready to give up everything easily for her. But things had become different now. Thinking about how she stripped me of my mother's attention, love and care, I couldn't stop the rage about her in my head multiplying.

"Brother, please." I heard her plead again. Looking at the beauty joining hands in front of me, nobody would think that I was doing dirty to her. The school uniform fit her so well, the skirt reaching just above her knees, a white shirt with half a sweater underneath the coat with her nameplate..... she looked like a modern day Cinderella. Rosy full lips, pinkish cheeks with deep dimples on both sides, big doe eyes with mountain-shaped brows, she was a heaven on earth in herself.

But I wasn't there to sit and glorify her beauty. I was there to make that beauty's life a living hell. I wanted her to taste the baddest days of her life. I wanted to make sure that she hated herself. I wanted her to feel that she was nothing but a parasite.

[Parasite? Huh! She was one all along!]

...

'Do you want your copy back?' I asked through my clenched jaw. I was mentally reminding myself of how she wasn't the beauty that she was. She was a parasite residing in that beautiful body. That parasite had always deprived me of my father's love. And oh! I just hated her even more.

'I want it, brother. Please hand me my copy.'

"..."

'Kiss me and take it!' My own words left me flabbergasted. She was speechless...for a few seconds.

"Brother? Are you in your right mind?" She yelled at me the moment she recovered. "What is wrong with you? Have you gone mad?"

......

'I told you to be a good girl. Did you forget that you are my slave? How dare you yell at me like that?' I couldn't believe whatever s**t was going on inside my head. It seemed that I was possessed by the spirit of some evil person. If I was shocked moments ago, I was confused about what I should do next. So, I tore her copy right before her. Pieces. I tore it into several pieces and threw those little shreds of paper in her face.

She looked at me with two big pools of blue eyes. I wanted her to say something. Something like she was hurt. But instead she just let the tears flow down. She remained silent and her silence mocked me, literally. I remained frozen with only my eyes following her moves. She silently bent down to collect the pieces of her copy. Her silence was enough. It was enough to poison my heart with sadness.

"Darren, what the f**k have you done?" I couldn't help but punch myself mentally.

She cried....like a baby that she was once. I felt bitter when I heard her sobs. It was then that I realised that it wasn't me that wanted to break her. It wasn't me but the beast inside.

"What are you doing, Culture? Just....Just get up, will you?" I held her hands and made her stand.

...

She was biting her lower lip trying to control her tears from falling even more. But she was unable to control herself.

I was never capable of tolerating her tears myself. Even though I was trying to harden my heart and soul for her, her tears proved to be a wake-up call. The thrill and the satisfaction I wanted to feel suddenly disappeared. I started feeling horrible. Her tears started diffusing into my sanity, making me sad with every passing second.

"I had loved this sibling of mine for the past 18 years. How could I forget my love for her in a split of seconds?" She mattered to me. Her happiness mattered.

.....

But more than anything, the truth mattered.

"Darren, she is not your sister, remember that. She is here to take what is yours." I tried to toughen my heart against her tears, which I failed. Obviously!

We stood hugging each other for sometime...until it became impossibly suffocating on my side. I was constantly waging a war inside my mind. The good boy Darren and the rebel in me were constantly discussing why it was necessary for me to make her cry such tears in the days to follow.

Regardless of anything, she was just a parasite and it was extremely necessary for me to toughen my heart against her.

*****