Sumbal and her brother Sami: The twins | Part 4
The words echoed around the room.
The glow in the corner directed her to a small wooden trunk that was placed beneath a broken floorboard covered by an old rug.
The small wooden trunk was layered in dust and cobwebs, which Sumbal quickly brushed away with her bare hands.
She was ready to open the small wooden trunk but paused. The voice became louder!
“She knows, she knows.”
Her hands trembled as she gingerly lifted the trunk’s dusty cover.
It creaked as she raised the lid, protesting her trespass.
Inside, she found a pile of aged papers and a small, faded photo tucked beneath them. The photo showed Sami and her mother standing near the basement door, but her mother’s expression was tense, almost fearful.
Under the photo she found a crumpled handwritten note; it was in her mother’s writing.
It said,
It wasn’t intentional; he wouldn’t stop his tantrums, he was cursed. He was driving me insane, and so I pushed him but not so hard, it was a gentle push. Nothing was intentional.
Sumbal froze in fear; she connected the fragments of her memories, and things began to make sense.
Her mother’s distant behavior, her silence about Sami, and the photo.
Sami wasn’t just gone; he had been silenced.
The shadows in the basement shifted as if responding to her discovery. Sumbal felt burning tears streaming down her face, her emotions a mix of horror and sorrow.
She climbed the stairs slowly, clutching the note. When she reached her mother, her voice cracked:
“What really happened to Sami, Mama?”
Her mother looked up to face Sumbal, totally startled, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear.
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Writer | Scribbler of Dramatic Verses | Zoophilist | Empath |In the midst of writing my very first Novel | Mens Skincare Coming Soon | Husband’s Right Hand
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