I took a deep breath and looked at Lisa, who was still staring at me. A wave of pity washed over me. She was trapped with a stranger she knew so little about, yet she refused to give up. A stranger determined either to die or to erase her memories. A stranger unwilling to open her heart.
I decided that before taking any further step, I should at least grant her the favor of knowing what she was so eager to understand. What she chose to do with that knowledge would be her business. But first, she had to prove she was worthy of it.
Supporting my head with one hand, I looked at Lisa."You stayed with a stranger you know little about, someone who even used to beat you sometimes. What are you really up to?"
"Huh?" she blinked.
"You heard me."
"Tasha, why do you have trust issues? Do I look like someone who has bad intentions toward you?"
I smirked. "Heh. You talk about trust, but you just drugged me to sleep a few hours ago."
Caught off guard, she stammered, "Well, I… I… it's like…"
I laughed. "Since when did you start stammering? Anyway, I get it. You've never seen that side of me before, so I forgive you. I once went insane in the past, and though I seem fine now, the truth is I never fully recovered. I've always been careless with my health—that's why you couldn't control me. I'm kind of… mental, though only to a certain extent. Aren't you scared?"
"I am," she said softly.
"Then why don't you move out, for your own safety?"
"Because I know you'll never harm me," Lisa replied firmly. "If you had ill intentions, you wouldn't have waited until now. As much as you act tough and stubborn, I know you have a heart of gold; you're just trying to protect it at all costs."
Leaning back, I sat straighter. "Looks like you've done your research well. But you still haven't answered me, what exactly are you up to, Lisa?"
"I'm not up to anything bad," she said quietly. "All I want is for you to open your heart to me."
I chuckled. "The fact that you've been staying in my house all this time means my heart is already open to you. You know I've never brought anyone home or lived with anyone except Aunty, Anne, and now you. What more do you want?"
"I'm still in the strangers' zone, remember?"
"Yeah, and that's for the best. I don't like attachments. The more you get attached to people, the more they hurt you. The condition I'm in now wasn't my doing; it was a result of those I was once attached to. Do you get it now?"
"I do," she said softly. "But I thought by now you'd at least give me the benefit of the doubt."
"You said it yourself, I've got trust issues, and I don't trust you, Lisa."
Placing her hand on her chest dramatically, Lisa sighed. "Ouch, that hurts."
"Hahaha, sorry about that," I said, smiling. "But it's the truth."
"You know," Lisa began, "a few days ago, Ayanda asked me to put myself in your shoes. I did, and I began to understand why you behave the way you do. She also told me to ask myself why I never thought of leaving you all this time. I found the answer, and the first reason was that you remind me of my sister. Though she didn't like sharing her troubles, I think she was walking the same path as yours."
"Was?" I asked, curious and suddenly uneasy.
"Yeah. She's no more. We lost her a few years ago."
"Oh…" I murmured. "But you barely talk about her."
Lisa looked at me, half in disbelief. I knew she was aware I was pretending to be surprised. Deep down, I knew I had never given her the chance to warm up to me, to share something so personal. She just smiled faintly, avoiding the argument.
"Well," she said gently, "I'll tell you about her once we're done talking about you."
"I see. So this first reason, does that mean I'm like a stand-in for her?" I asked cautiously.
"Huh?" Lisa looked shocked. "Tasha, how can you say that? How can you be a stand-in? Do you really not understand what I'm trying to tell you?"
"Well, I'm not your sister, and I have no idea what's running through your mind."
She sighed deeply. "No one can replace Carol, and no one can become her stand-in. Maybe it's my wishful thinking, or maybe it's selfishness, but I just want to make amends for the wrongs I've done. I feel guilty for the sisterly love I couldn't give her, a debt I want to repay so badly. I had always looked forward to a second chance, and I thought maybe you might give me that chance…"
The air grew heavy. Lisa's voice trembled with emotion; she seemed to be carrying a weight too heavy for words. I wanted to comfort her, but I froze. I've always hated tears. Once someone starts crying, I feel like crying too. And when it happens, I can never control it.
So I looked down, avoiding her eyes, trying to distract myself. The truth is, I've never been good at comforting people or expressing condolences. It always feels awkward, sounds awkward, too.
At that moment, I didn't know whether to say I'm sorry or to keep silent. I chose silence, hoping my presence was enough. I wasn't sure if Lisa could feel it, but I stayed there quietly, looking down.
After a while, Lisa calmed down and took a deep breath. I stole glances at her, trying to read the room. When I finally felt the tension fade, I broke the silence.
"I don't know what to say," I whispered. "But I'm so sorry for your loss. Seems I'm not the only one carrying invisible wounds." I took another deep breath. "Life will never cease to amaze me."
Lisa didn't speak. She just smiled faintly, encouraging me to continue. So, I did.
The Past
I once had a best friend. Her name was Marble, and I knew her from primary school. I befriended her because no one else wanted to. She was always unkempt, her uniform torn, never bringing food to school, her self-esteem crushed. Other students avoided her like a disease, and even teachers scolded her for no reason, just because of how she looked.
I felt pity for her. I didn't care about her appearance; I saw the intelligence beneath. We became inseparable. I even introduced her to my mum, who took to her instantly; she treated Marble like her own daughter.
Her life began to change. My mum bought her the things she needed, and the timid, neglected girl slowly transformed into a cheerful, confident one. She started excelling in school, and I finally had the sister I never had. Though I was never allowed to visit her home, she often came to stay over at mine.
Then one day, she came to school limping and refused to play with me. Soon after, she began showing up with small wounds. She tried to hide them, but I could tell we were desk mates. It broke my heart. I even told my mum and asked her to help, but not long after, Marble stopped coming to my house. She withdrew completely, shutting me out.
And then she stopped coming to school altogether.I tried to find her, but I never knew where she lived. No one did. She had simply vanished.
I was devastated, but with time, I moved on. Years later, when I was in high school, she appeared again, this time in my form four class. I couldn't believe it. I asked her why she'd left so suddenly, and she finally told me the truth.
Her mother had fled from her abusive father. He used to beat her for every small thing and accused her of sleeping around whenever she managed to buy Marble something new. He was a useless drunk who never provided, but always found energy to inflict pain.
I was relieved to have my lost sister back, but soon, rumors spread about her and her mother. People whispered that they were living a wayward life. When I asked her, she didn't deny it. She told me that after they ran away, they had lived on the streets of the West Side for a month. Her mother had nowhere else to go, not even family. Eventually, they met a man who offered them food, clothes, and shelter. But it wasn't free. He forced her mother into prostitution, taking seventy percent of what she earned.
As time passed, Marble grew into a beautiful young woman. At sixteen, heads turned wherever she went. Her mother tried to protect her, but the man had other plans. He began taking advantage of Marble, again and again, until her mother could no longer bear it. She decided to find another way to free them because they were like in prison, no interaction with people was allowed, and every movement was under strict supervision.
"How did she do that?" Lisa whispered, her face pale.
"What do you think?" I asked quietly.
"She killed him?"
"How did you know?" I asked because she nailed the answer straight away. She didn't respond, but just shrugged, and I didn't think much of it, and I proceeded to answer.
"Yeah," I said, my voice flat.