by Neha Yazmin
Chapter 6. Insomniac
Her fourteen-year-old sister Zari was waiting outside the bathroom when Mukti came out after her shower. It was always a little unsettling to see Zari; she looked like a younger, slightly shorter and wider-framed version of Mukti, but with hair down to her waist, usually twisted in a braid. It made Mukti feel like she was being pulled back in time. To when she was that age.
And that wasn’t an era Mukti wanted to revisit.
“How was your first day?” Zari asked.
“Fine,” she replied robotically.
Her sister followed her to her bedroom. Well, their bedroom––they were supposed to share it. But Mukti’s need for bright lights burning into late nights had forced Zari to sleep on the sofa in the living room for the past five years. Eventually, Zari moved all of her belongings to the storage room on the first floor and didn’t disturb Mukti when she got home and hid away in her room.
Mukti hardly saw the rest of her family, even though they all lived in the same four-bedroom terraced house. Her older brothers––one three years older than Mukti, the other just over five years her senior––worked in investment banking and were luckily too good at their jobs to lose them during the economic crisis. They usually worked late, went out with friends in the evenings or watched TV in their respective bedrooms on the first floor.
Her parents occupied the third bedroom, on the top floor and across the hall from Mukti, and she saw them from time-to-time. But because they avoided looking at each other or exchanging pleasantries, it felt like they were ghosts.
She couldn’t say that she didn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to either of her parents––because she could––but since she didn’t want to think about the specifics of that particular conversation, she’d just have to say that it had been a long time.
She saw Zari the most––the person everyone used to communicate with Mukti.
“Mum was wondering how you’re home so early,” Zari said, one hand on her hips like she was the elder sister demanding a quick answer. Scanning the room, her face seemed to say, So, how are you enjoying our room?
Little in the room had changed since Zari vacated it. Terracotta walls. Brown carpet. Double wardrobe along one wall. Bookcase and sideboard on the opposite wall. Double bed. Bedside cabinet with a lamp and a black digital clock with red digits. A wide window looked out at the houses opposite theirs and allowed Mukti to see a good chunk of sky looming over the rooftops.
“I finish work at half-five. It takes half an hour to get home. I was neither late nor early.”
“Yeah, I told her that.” Zari rolled her eyes, exasperated. “But she thinks you do the same kind of work as her beloved sons––”
“Well, it’s not the same.”
“Hey, don’t take it out on me!”
“I’m not.” But her sister had already stalked off.