Sisters torn apart by the fragility of the heart, how can love possibly hurt so much?
Hana Junaid decided two years ago, distance would make her younger sister Hanaan more independent but Hanaan's love and yearning for Hana during this time has drow...
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Voice Recording 06
Recorded: 29th July Monday
Hana...
I've been trying to do this for the past two days but it just does not come out right. I'll let this be the final one because you're around at home more these days and I'm running out of time. I should tell this to you right now in real time, face to face but I can't, not when you're expecting your result in two days. I can't do this to you now not when you're expecting a top position on the board.
I don't think I can even do this on recording.
But here goes.
I made an Instagram account. Not my own. I made yours. By your name, your profile picture, your photos uploaded on it too. I made it in November last year when you turned seventeen because when I saw your birthday celebration pictures on Zimal's Instagram, I was enchanted. You didn't like celebrating birthdays, in fact you didn't for many years until college that is, when your group of friends was big on celebrations and themed parties and themed cakes.
Hana, you looked absolutely kawaii in that picture, standing behind a tall white cake adorned with buttercream roses, deep pink to bright pink, fading to a softer pink as they went up the cake. You wore a white top with floral embroidery and jeans underneath. Your side swept bangs fell on your eyes ever so delicately and your cheeks were smiling, you looked slender in the picture too. But most of all, you looked happy, you looked ethereal.
So why didn't you show off to the world?
When I ran the idea of you and a perfect Instagram account by Nashwa, she told me it was your decision, and for once a decent decision too because every other rich girl in the world is a blogger these days on Instagram, putting up her own pictures in colourful dresses and a useless seemingly thoughtful caption underneath.
Nashwa's right about that. We all want to be seen in this world so we put up ourselves for show. We all want acceptance, attention and validation from everyone around us, so we make our lives and skills public.
Nashwa told me I could make a blog for myself, tell the world about my CP and how I manage through but that's also cliché. I don't want my CP to define me. And I'm just wasting oxygen nowadays. Besides, everyone puts up their shortcomings as a way to seek attention too. Someone has mild depression, someone exaggerates their insomnia, someone else uses their common cold to draw traffic and likes. No one's actually doing anything, just promoting brands and earning from them, nothing more. It's like they're all halted in space, floating in nothingness, just showing off.
But that sounded good to me.
So I did what all pretty rich girls do, I made an account by your name, I made it public, I blocked Nashwa, all your friends I knew of and all family members too because they always question and poke about what's none of their business. I started posting your pictures on it with captions and in a month I had a hundred followers. They were too many spammers though and desperate boys too so I turned the account to private and accepted every teenager's follow request if their bio seemed decent enough.
