After filling herself with the breakfast, she resumed reading the diary.
On the next page, she noticed a heading to her writing, which said, "Regrets about my parents."
Seeing the words 'my parents', memories with her own parents flashed again in her mind, along with the things she saw in her dream this morning. All of those caused a sharp pain in her head. And her heart as well felt overcast with sorrowful feelings.
Yet, she proceeded with it.
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Hi Shiro. Seeing that you are still reading it, makes me happy, really happy. You must be thinking why out of all people, I am telling my regrets to you, about my parents on top of it. You don't even know them, I know. But it's also true that if I start to bare open my life, my deeds to you, I will be judged for those. And I am writing this with that in my mind. So, if I am to be judged nevertheless, I would rather have you to judge me.
I also know that we were never close to be in a position to judge or seek judgment about anything, yet I guess at least we… were inversely close… that was lame, hah. Please forget it, wipe it clear from your memory.
But whatever it is, the fact that we never got to be close, makes you the perfect one to hear my rantings. Because you will judge me accurately and justifiably for the things I actually did. Neither you will falsely blame me for anything out of mere jealousy, nor you will be unfair by being kind to me and forgiving everything. So, if anyone, that should be you. Even if I am given multiple chances to choose again, I would choose you every time.
Well, I should start already.
Yes, my first regret would be about my parents. Expressing regrets is somewhat like seeking forgiveness in a roundabout way, at least for me. So, without admitting my sins, I won't seek forgiveness, not that I actually want and hope for it. I promised to keep this short, but if anyhow this goes long, then I want to say sorry in advance.
You met them when you went to my house, to pick up the diary, and I am sure the meeting was really brief. So I should at least introduce them to you. The weak, tired-looking couple you met that day, are my parents. Sorry, I should've phrased them in some better words, but I am bad with my words, and you know that. Well, everyone does how bad my words do to others. And in a way or another, the reason behind them being that much fragile and tired, was me.
Don't know if you have noticed it or not, but our house is just a normal-looking one, totally different from how I always appeared to be, how my life seemed to be. I am sure, like others who didn't know me up close, you have also thought that I must belong to some rich family or such. But the truth is, my family is not that rich of a people, never was either. My parents are someone who doesn't believe in having a desire for riches. Rather, they are more comfortable in living contentedly from what they have, not that my family was poor or something. My father works really hard to make sure the comfortable, peaceful life of his family of three never gets disturbed.
But sometimes, some wishes, or should I say, illogical tantrums, create a subtle crack on the beautifully constructed life of ease. That crack increases slowly but steadily until the entire life shatters apart into pieces. Those broken pieces turn out so fine that no matter how hard one tries, they wouldn't be able to piece those back together.
There is a saying about it, right? If you break a glass, that might be able to be pieced back, but the crack, the sign of it breaking, the mark, would never disappear. People tend to compare trust and love with it. But a peaceful life can also be the same. Now that I think about it, I get the meaning of that saying more. Strange right?
Our happy life got broken apart past to the point of gluing it back together. And the subtle crack which caused our life to be broken apart, was, of course, me.
But you know what is the irony? Or should I say, the funniest part of it? The broken pieces of life weren't always broken. Our life once had also a beautiful color, and a bright shine on it. Whenever sunlight reflected on it, it gave out such a pretty rainbow-like play of colors. We used to be that happy. And the reason behind the beautiful play of hue was supposed to be me. I was supposed to be the reason for a beautiful life, a hope of a peaceful future, a source of love, happiness, peace, and every good vibe one can possibly have.
My mother said they had me after praying to God for a long time. That's why I was pampered a lot.
She said I was so pretty, so cute, with the little hands holding onto hers, with cute little legs trying to walk alongside her and stumbling upon the way, and with a cute face and bright eyes like stars whenever I called her Maa, and my father Paa.
They were happy to have me, and I was lucky to get them as my parents. We completed each other, making our own peaceful world, which was shining brightly by the sunlight named happiness.
Then I don't know when and how, that beautiful, colorful life of ours slipped through my hands like desert sand, and fell on the ground, scattering everywhere.
Maa always used to say, be bright so that everyone looks up to you. Be bright so that you could light up the world around you. Gather up everything you can get which can make you significant, to you, and others. No one can do that easily, but if they do, they become the winner.
Paa said to be happy in life, at any cost. To be happy, you must do anything that can make you happier than anyone. Be the winner in your life, that helps to be happy, a lot.
So of course, I wanted to be a winner. I wanted to be the center of everything, everyone. That center which makes everything revolve around it. Like the sun. But guess I took those words in the wrong way. Because the desperation of my being a winner became so bad, I lost all the reasonings and the judgment of right and wrong. And in the end, by the time I found myself the winner, I lost the happiness within it. Winning didn't make me happy. Winning didn't make me feel accomplished. Rather, it changed everything. Everything.
Rather than picking up what was the best in quality, I chose the best in quantity.
Rather than picking up that shy yet smart student as my friend, I chose the richest girl in the class.
Rather than being the sun who gives light to all, I became a black hole that sucked up the life out of them. I became a black void who was hollow, empty, who became nothing.
And to cope with those choices I made, I hurt those whom I shouldn't have, in many ways.
I wish I never did that in the first place.
I wish I never killed my happiness in my own hands.
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As Airi kept reading her diary, the events in it felt so vivid that she felt like she had been watching a movie or some kind of melodrama. That's why she was so immersed in it that when the note ended there with an almost entire page blank, she broke from her trance as if the movie got interrupted.
On the next page, it has again the same four-sentence note, which said, "I will be glad if you turned over this page to the next one, however, I'll be a bit shameless and demand something. Not that I am going to be there to verify that, but yet…if you plan to fulfill that wish of mine, then proceed ahead. Otherwise, you know what to do with this thing."
Airi sighed at the way the note was written. "Girl, how can you be this bad with words every fu*king life of yours! If it reached the actual destination, there was no way he was goin' to read this ahead. What are you, orderin'? You demanding brat!"
But here she was in a helpless situation because of her such an identity, which belonged to her once, yet she was totally unaware of it. She needed to get to know her current identity, so she kept reading. And slowly she was getting swallowed by her own past existence, as she continued to read ahead without any break, and those events got filled in her head.