“The Girl”

Trinayana Thakuria

Art of Creative Unity Award 2021 | Second Prize (21 and under)

When I was thirteen, my Mom asked me what was it that I wanted for my birthday. The minute I mentioned that I would rather spend my day in the house watching TV with my pet Jeff, my Mom decided that I needed to go to a special school. It was at the special school that I met Glen. She came as a foreign exchange student (I not know that they had foreign exchange at the special school.). I was sent to the special school to make friends and Glen was there to get over her Mother’s death. We were made a team on a Friday because thats when we have our field day. Our task was to plant as many trees as we can. Turns out Glen likes trees and animals and we end up talking a great deal. Glen was the first and only friend I have ever had besides Jeff and my Mom. We spent a great amount of time together, me, Mom, Glen and Jeff.

Glen and I were practically always together. We joined girls scout and were trained to live in jungles and fight wild beasts. I never thought we would have an encounter with a wild beast until the wild beast visited us.

A hot summer afternoon. While we were bent over our respectively test tubes trying to see whether it was oxygen or hydrogen, a peon from the Principal’s office came in with a notice for Glen Turner. We were dumbstruck for a moment that my Mom has sent a notice for Glen and not me. Obviously it had to be my Mom. Who else would call for Glen in the middle of a school day. She lived her Grandmom and her Grandmother certainly did not know that you could send for someone in school these days. Since the notice was for Glen, only she could leave the class and I had to stay behind. Glen went out reluctantly. I couldn’t wait till the class got over. An uneasy feeling gripped me. What if something happened to her grandmother? Will she be sent to the boarding school? No. I wont let her go. Mom wont let her go. She could stay with us. I was still floating in my thoughts when the bell went off. I rushed to the principals office. The door was closed. I peaked in through the keyhole and had my first glimpse of the beast. A tall and well built man wearing a huge coat and smoking a cigar. The peon saw me and opened the door to let me in. I rushed in to be by Glen’s side. In her eyes were a pool of unshed tears. I gripped her hand. The Principal threw an uneasy smile to me. “Well, err, this is Sarah West, Glen’s best friend. They have been together since Glen got here. A very practical and thoughtful girl she is, Mr. Turner.” . Mr. Turner? What am I missing out here. The sturdy man turned to me. I saw his face for the first time, a face I would never forget. He had a dusky complexion and wrinkled face. “Why! What a lovely

young lady you are. I am sure you have been a good friend to Glen. Please do visit us in Milan sometime. We would love to have you there. Wont we Glen?” He glanced briefly at Glen, who still had her head hung low, the tears in her eyes now a pool at her feet. The next few minutes were a blur. Glen was dragged out by the person who was supposed to be her Father. Within minutes, I was alone in the Principal’s office with the Principal. The Principal looked at me with questioning eyes. That was my cue to leave.

I walked zombically back home. I could not eat nor muster up courage to talk to my mom. I did not cry for the first two days. I believed that the door will open and Glen will be there at the doorway with her ear-to-ear grin. When that did not happen for three days, I let out my first cry. That was followed by months of doctors visit, neighbours bringing in dishes as if someone died, countless sleepless nights. Glen’s Grandmom visited and said that Glen had left the very day her dad visited the school. The only person I wanted to visit me was not here. I let the hope that she will come back sink in me. Unwillingly, slowly I fell back to my life with a void in my heart. One that I did not expect to ever be filled.

2years later.

A senior at school. Without friends. I went to lunch alone. I sat at classes alone. I drove back home

alone. I was fine with all of this. But my Mom wasn’t. She wanted me to go and get a normal life. I was not INTERESTED. Every evening while my school mates made plan, went out; I went home, did homework, watched Tv and slept. Then one day something weird happened.

I was making a chicken salad for lunch when the mailman came to drop the mail. We hardly got any mail. Because we don’t really have relatives or people who would send us mail. I thought that it was something from Mom’s work. In the evening when Mom came back from work, I informed her about the mail. “Mail? I wasn’t supposed to get any.”, Mom said. “Dunno. Might have been misplaced.”, I replied. Mom went out to fetch the mail. She came back in and shouted for me. I came down to find out that the mail was addressed to me. But it was from an unknown name. It said ‘Mrs. Nadira Zaid’. “I don’t know any Nadira.” Was my reply to my Moms bewildered look. “Well. She has your address. You have to know her.”Mom replied, curtly. I ripped off the tape. Inside the mail was a picture. A single picture. But it was enough to knock me out of breath. In that picture stood a girl. With a man and a chid in her arms. The same beautiful face, the same sea green eyes. But she no longer looked as confident as she did two years back. Suddenly, all those years were floating in front of my eyes as if it all happened yesterday. I could not believe my eyes. After regaining composure, I decided to write to the address. The address placed Glen in some country in the east. I wrote a casual mail and put in a photo of Jeff. I couldn’t hold myself together after posting the mail. Where was she? Wasn’t she supposed to be in Milan? Who was the man and the child in the picture?

A month passed. I did not get any reply. I was anxious. But Mom said that the mail always take a lot of time. Then one fine Monday morning, as I was getting ready for school, a mailman delivered another mail. I could not wait to see what was inside the mail. This one contained a letter. It started with a ‘Dear Sar’. Only Glen called me Sar. I did not understand why her name was again printed as ‘Mrs. Nadira Zair’. After reading and rereading the letter for three times, I could make sense out of her words. Dad sent me to the middle- east. Got married. Has a child. But she is only 18. She also wrote that she missed me and wanted to see me.

That very instant I decided that I will go and see her. I had my high school graduation money saved up. I told Mom about my plan and she readily agreed. She offered to come with me but I declined the offer. Four days after I received the mail I was in the King Khalid International Airport, Riyadh. I did not know anybody and no one knew me in this country. I had to get to the house number 38 in King Fahd Road. I hailed a cab and set on my way to the answers of the various questions that has been in my mind since I first received the mail. 38, King Fahd Road, was a two storey modest house. I rang the buzzer but it went unanswered. After few minutes of waiting, I saw a lady of the neighbouring house some out. I rushed out of the gate to get hold of her. I asked her if she knew Glen. Her face had a weird expression. Then I corrected myself and asked for Mrs. Nadira Zaid. A sad and pitiful expression crossed her face. And then I found out. A truth I never learnt to accept. I was late. She left. Forever. She is not coming back ever. I could not believe whatever the lady was saying. Fell down from the stairs. Hit her head. Was always covered in bruises. Alcoholic husband. I could hardly make out what she was talking about. I walked to the taxi stand. Taxis whizzed past me. I could not understand what was happening. I just wanted to disappear into the thin air. A taxi drove me to the airport and I was home the next day. As soon as I got out of the taxi at the driveway of our house, my Mom rushed to me and embraced me. “I am so so sorry Sarah”. I hadn’t told her anything. What is she sorry about. Eventually I found out. After my mom came back home from the airport after dropping me off, another mail arrived from Mrs. Nadira Zair. It went:

Dear Sar,

I hope this letter finds you in the best of health. I wish I could meet you before I go but that wont be possible. I am not the Glen you knew anymore.

My life has drastically changed since the last time I met. My father did not bring me to Milan. Instead he took me to Riyadh where I was already promised to someone. I was married within a month to a person I hardly knew. He gave my father his family wealth in exchange for me. The person I was married to already had a child. I was his second wife. He was an alcoholic. Every night he came back home drunk and beat me up. In front of the child. I tried my best to become a good wife. But nothing could stop the daily beating. How long do I have to tolerate? I told about all this to my father, but he said that it is all a part of married life. Once, my husband broke my tooth. I ran all the way to the police station but the police returned me back to him.

I am sorry. I cant hold out any longer. Whatever I am doing may be very selfish but you don’t know and there is no way you will know.

I had the best years of my life with you. I really did. Thank your Mom and Jeff for looking after me all those years. Most of all, thanks to you I learnt what friendship is. Thank you.

I miss you.

Bye.

Yours,

Glen.

I had no reaction. I could not save her. My bestfriend. I was not with her when she needed me the most. I felt worthless. Everything around me seemed to be spinning. Once again, the same void in my heart came back.

6years later.

“And I would like to request the court to inflict the strictest of punishment to Mr. Byro Turner and Mr. Jalil Zaid for domestic violence on a naïve 18 year old girl and forcing her to kill herself.” The sun feels brighter today. Maybe because I finally achieved what I was preparing for the past six years. I went home and sat in front of my dresser. “We made it.” She smiled back at me like she always does. But today even her smile felt warmer. Since the day I read Glen’s last letter, I vowed to make sure the guilty gets punishment. I enrolled myself in law school. Made uncountable visits to Riyadh, collecting evidence against the wild beast and Glen’s husband. And here, six years later, I paid them back for what they did to Glen. No. it wont bring her back. But at least it will give her and me some peace of mind. As I was swimming in my thoughts, my Mom’s voice shouted my name. I went out to he living. Mrs. Dwight stood up and greeted me. “We got the approval Sarah. We can officially open now.” Mrs. Dwight was talking about the NGO I was setting up for the victims of domestic violence. I am a licensed lawyer now and could set up my own firm, but I can see myself doing more than just sitting in an office and getting people married or divorced.

The first thing in my office was the photo of the girl who made me who I am today. Wherever she is, I know she is looking down at me with her ear-to-ear grin.