Life is a predicament. Its strange ways mould us into something we were not.

Sara lay in bed covered in her quilt, which was now gradually soaking from one corner with her tears. Pain hit her like violent waves crashing against the shore on a stormy night, as she tried to remember the last time when she saw the face of the friend who had died in a car accident. A friend whom she had now lost forever and who was never to return. Sara wasn’t always like this; the loss of her friend had moulded her into something she wasn’t.

She sat up on her bed and glanced towards the window, it was raining outside. Rain seemed like falling tears to her, she felt like the clouds were feeling her agony, so they also cried for the pain she was going through.

She got up and moved slowly towards the door and opened it. She gave one glance at the hallway where she used to play with another girl — a girl with dark brown, full-of-life eyes, whom she will never forget.

Her heart started aching and a lump came up to her throat. She closed the door back, but instead of returning to her bed, she opened cupboard and took out her photo album and sat back on her bed.

The album possessed beautiful memories, the memories of her friend Fatima. Each photo had a story. She would stare at it for some time and then move to the next one. Sara and Fatima were best friends. They were so close that often people would think they are sisters.

Soon she came across the one she had been looking for. It was both of them sitting under the shade of a tree. She remembered the place very well. It was a place where they had made a promise, a promise which was broken before it could be fulfilled. She remembered her assurance.

“Fatima!” She had asked, staring at the sky.

“Hmmm…?” replied Fatima, turning her face towards her.

“Will you be my friend till the end?”

“Always,” Fatima had assured her.

Sara wondered what she should consider as ‘the end’ — was this the end? And if it was, why and how did it begin?

She missed Fatima so much. She wanted to do something which could have saved Fatima. But there was nothing she could do except to mourn. Happiness can even be found in darkness if one remembers to turn on the light. Was it possible that she could be happy being aware of the fact that she had lost someone dear to her. Maybe it was possible! Maybe she could be happy if she became all what Fatima always wanted her to be.

A faint smile appeared on Sara’s face. Fatima had always wanted her to be strong, bold and to realise the importance of her life and of those who cared for her. Time had taught her both things. Now the only thing left was to be strong, forgetting the past and caring for the present.

She knew she could be strong… and she would be strong at least not for herself, but for Fatima.

Published in Dawn, Young World, January 14th, 2023