TWO SOULS

Poverty is an accustomed disease to the cheap commoners like me. Every time, my 12 years old sister, Maira, and I wander into streets to search for crumbles of breads, we yearned for several unattainable things, beautiful clothes and a loving parent that we can never achieve in our whole lifetime, not like this. Sometimes, we would stare longingly at the girls of our age and wonder where in the world we went wrong? Hell, there is no place where we can ask for help, a little facility or aid….no education, no proper life, no parents.

What are we supposed to do with this deranged life? How long do we strive for just some crumbles to satisfy out growling stomachs? How long do we live on streets, under the scorching heat?
Why do we vote prime ministers and presidents who speak falsely about how they would facilate people like us but never actually do so? Why do we keep hoping that someday someone would actually pull us from the dark depth we are sinking in? When are the conceited superiors going to realize their mistakes in ruling? When are they going to drop down from their high horses and direct some help to the people like us?
All these questions remain unanswered in my mind as I silently walk with Maira, trying hard not to break down and cry. Times like this, I wish I had my mother’s warmth to cuddle into and forget about the whole reality of life. Miara didn’t speak a word and neither did I. How can we, when we have our famine throats aching painfully for a drop of water.
“A-Addy” Maira croaked finally in discomfort beside me, halting us in our steps. “I d-don’t want to do this anymore.” She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut in anguish.
My heart heavy with our loads of grief, I pull her into a rough hug and hold her tightly. The minute she was in my comfort, she let her tears out, sobbing in agony. I keep my tears in bay, not letting them out, trying my best to be strong for my own, little sister. Mom would have destroyed the whole world just for a tear on her daughters’ eyes but she is not here now. She left us, never intentionally.
“Shh… M” I console her with an immense effort that I had no idea I had it in me after being thoroughly beaten down. “We will be getting out of the streets if it’s the last thing we do.” I promise her, with a quiver but I was certain in making my sister’s life perfect rather than mine. She deserves a lot, a lot more than myself.
“H-how?” she spoke again in her broken tone, “Who would even help us? Who would even look at us?”
“Hey, shh.. remember?” I force a smile as she looks up to me,“ Sisters forever and forever we shall remain.” I repeat the mantra every time we fall apart.
She being my sister was never a weakness but none other than a steely strength. Mom would laugh whenever we used to say it in a neutral tone.
“You both are the stars to someone’s dark sky.” She used to say this when we both would crawl into her lap and place our heads in sync to listen to the stories Mom recites every night. Sure, we never had an appropriate house but living in a shed with the cows’ revolting smell of their faeces, our mother’s lap was the only thing we loved the most. Even after a lot of work she would do, she would make a special time for both of us and we could never ask for a better mother.
As soon as she died, the person who hired her for the work, Mr. Palsey left us on the streets, saying he has no idea what to do with us.
What a man….
Maira smiled weakly in response as we waked back to the place we chose to stay, beside the large garbage container, at the corner of the street. Somehow, we felt safe in the dark. Well, no one notices us actually and that's better that way. My sister is safe, at least for now.
“We would do better tomorrow.” I speak for the both of us as we lie down on the cold, rigid ground, uncomfortably. Wrapping an arm around my sister’s waist, I place a kiss on her forehead, humming a tune as her drooped. By the time I ended the tune, she was fast asleep within minutes. After a final kiss on her cheek, I pull her close to me as I closed my tired eyelids.
It would better tomorrow . At least, that's what I hoped.

Prologue by-Aliya Rahman

Our other creations-

Chapter-1 The beginning

Chapter-2 The traps

My Dream

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