Prompt 6

“Write about two characters who have known each other for a long time, and give one of them a secret” 

She was quiet. I could tell she had something on her mind. You don’t grow up with someone, share the same toys and books, climb up trees together, without being able to realize when the other person is chewing through something. But it was more than that. She was very protectively and cautiously keeping whatever it was to herself. It was almost as if she had folded whatever it was very delicately and gently placed it away, with an odd sense of revery. Any conversation that seemed to be leaning towards her and how she was feeling she would tactically maneuver in another direction. She would close herself up, slowly occupying less and less space, almost as if she were trying to be invisible; unseen.

What could it be? Why wouldn’t she talk to me about it? I always told her everything – let her into my life as sisters should. Why didn’t she feel like she could do the same with me?

It had started before she even came home for the holidays. She had been quieter and quieter in our email chats. Her notes getting briefer in every exchange. The once live and colourful messages that painted a picture of  what she was up to on the other side of the world had turned monotonous and drab. So unlike her. So un-alive.

I had thought it was just that she was busy with work. She was just getting used to the tempo of being at the beck and call of her clients and always needing to be tethered to her phone. That was the life of an associate in the finance world.

What could it be? Had she had issues with her boyfriend? She never talked much about him – and I don’t think he would hurt her in any way – but then again I didn’t know the guy. That’s what happens when you live in different countries to your family; you become disassociated with their lives. Bereft of the details. Somehow immune to their realities.

How can I get her trust again? I’m talking about the same type of boundless trust we had when we were kids. I’d have to start small. Perhaps with a game. One of the ones we used to play. You know the one. The one that had us in stitches of laughter by the end of it.

Yeah, I’ll start with a game.


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