It had almost been a week since I have had eaten properly or even smiled at her but she didn’t seem to care.
I felt like a prisoner, trapped sans sin. Though, she used to throw me into this room whenever I created nuisance but this time, I didn’t deserve such to be punished.
Things had changed after the little baby came into our home. I vividly remember the day she- my Mom, had brought it home; excitedly, I had nipped and hopped around her, wagging my tail, and tried climbing her legs to have a look when she had bent herself to let me have a clear view.
It was a tender thing, delicate and hence I had decided to stay away from it, lest I break it, like I had broken her glass vase last night. She had scolded me for that and admittedly, it was embarrassing.
I had resumed watching television when I heard through the earshot, she was speaking to Dad.
‘I hope he won’t harm her,’ she said.
‘Don’t be stupid, he’d guard her better than us, you’d see’, Dad tried defending me.
‘ ..but I am worried’, she seemed unconvinced.
A few days passed when I realized they were talking about me that night. It hurt
me. They brought a new child but mistrusted and forgot their older one. Who does that?
I wanted to confront her, ask her if she didn’t love me anymore. Circumspectly, I opened her room’s door and reached her bed’s end. I stood on my toes and gazed meekly at her, she was sleeping with it, her new child. She was my sister and I wasn’t allowed to meet her; I really wanted to.
Sleeping in tranquility, looking like a doll, as white as snow, she yawned, and looked adorable when she did that.
Her tiny forehead had a black spot, which I didn’t like, and wanted her to get rid of it as soon as possible. Hence, I decided to erase the ink mark off her forehead, but just when I brought my hand closer to her face, Mom woke up.
I couldn’t perceive the reason of her petrifying look. She grabbed the little girl and asked me to get out. She screamed at me, insulted me, and then begged me to leave the room, and get away from the “baby”.
‘I was her baby’, I said to myself. Immediately, I left her room and went back to mine. I had cried the whole day, but she didn’t come to pat me, or kiss me, or even apologize.
The maid had offered me food, but I didn’t feel like eating. I had sipped water though, crying had made me thirsty, I suppose.
When it dawned, and I was sleepy, I hoped Mom would come, put me to bed, but she didn’t. Instead Dad had come, I guess he knew what had happened. Embarrassed, I had looked away from him, but he had hugged me and kept crying, I didn’t realize but I was sobbing too. Dad had made me weak, I didn’t wish to be seen wailing, I’m a strong boy.
But then, in between tears I had fallen asleep in his lap, peacefully.
Next morning, after bathing me, Dad took me out for a walk, but he didn’t take the regular route. After exchanging a few words with an unknown man, he left me with him, who had so many dogs around him. Some resembled me, and some didn’t. Muddled, I looked at Dad, my eyes demanding answers.
He said nothing but cried, hugged me and cried more.
It was still confusing.
Then he got up, and left the place. Just when he reached the road, he turned back to look at me, bidding adieu.
I couldn’t take it. I freed myself from the clutches of the unknown man and ran back to Dad. He had crossed the road by then. As soon as I was about to reach him, an over speeding car hit me.
Now, as I lie here on the road, I urge Dad to come and hug me for the last time. I wish Mom was here too, I want to tell her that I love her and my little sister too. I hope she won’t keep hating me forever.
My eyelashes are closing down forcibly, Dad is here and he’s wailing profusely, not as much as I am bleeding though.
‘I love you Dad’, I want to say, but I just smile; shut my eyelids and sleep in his lap for the very last time.