Jar of Juice

Reflections: Why Did I Kill My Sister?

Disclaimer for the confused: this is a work of fiction. I didn’t kill anyone.

I did not believe it at first when I heard the tip from someone.

I was in the cafe with my friends, playing cards and smoking hooka, like we always do on a nice spring day with light showers outside, and a cool breeze gently ruffling our hair, and lifting the foreigner’s skirt across the cafe, teasing us with the sight of two gorgeous legs. My throat dried as my mind thought of nothing but what’s underneath the skirt.

She stood up, speaking on the phone and laughing, and she went downstairs, or probably some place in the back where there is little noise.

“I need to take a piss,” I told my friends. “And I am taking the cards with me!”

The bastards always looked at my cards on a leak break.

I scouted for her. I can’t be seen over hovering at the ladies’ loo. “3eib” I told myself, “ma biseer”. I went in to take a leak – true to my words – and left and went to the first floor. Ah, she was there, just outside. Hmm. Too many people around. Just perfect.

I walked up to her when she just finished her phone call, blocking her way.

“Oops, sorry, excuse me,” I said, with a wink in my eye and a smile. She understood. She went back up. I pretended to make a phone call and went back up again.

She stole some looks, I could see from the corner of my eye. She’s probably a bit too embarrassed to talk to me. Hmm… is that her friend? Damn! Holy crap! Those are definitely fake!

There must be a way to talk to her.

I got a phone call.

“Yes?!”

“My friend’s friend saw your sister talk with some guy a block from your place!”

“WHAT!”

I couldn’t believe it. My blood was boiling. I left.

I drove to my house. I called up my dad on the way, and told him what my friend told me. He said I should come home quick.

We beat the crap out of her. Locked her in for days, and we beat her more. That little bitch kept swearing the guy was giving her her friend’s book from school. It’s her friend’s cousin she claimed. That whore!

I go to the grocery store to buy some stuff. Crap. How am I to show my face to the salesman? What is he gonna say? “You can’t even put a leash on the women at your household?  How do you call yourself a man?! Looks like your family is nas faltaneh“.

I couldn’t take it any more. My family’s honor is at stake. My honor is at stake. My public image. My ego. MY… MY… MY… MY… MY…

The prison was cold. A couple of the other inmates were cheering my decision. “Good riddance… we don’t need more whores around… you did a good job.” Another guy said “women should never leave their homes. They’re never good at whatever they do outside… and when they go outside they fuck up everything.”

I wasn’t so sure. Anymore. Of what I did. Was it right, or wrong?

What happened to my family honor now? The daughter dead, the son in jail? What happened to my image… am I a hero now? Or a guy from prison? When I get released… will I marry? Who will marry me? A monster who kills women?

I should have checked if the guy was her friend’s relative. I should have checked it was all about homework.

My ego… shit… I feel like a little piece of fuck. My dreams confined in this cell here with me. No one will listen, no one will hear, not a person will remember I existed. Just another guy who killed another girl, to save an honor that got butchered because he tried to “save” it.

And now my mom is all alone, doing the cooking and the cleaning. She doesn’t visit me. She cries every day I am sure.

I remembered that hot girl in the cafe.

Will mom forgive me? All those memories, all 18 years of them, I decided to take away.

I wanted to get married in a couple of years.

That girl in the cafe… I wanted to marry her.

Did her brother kill her too?

Posted in: life