At that time, my sister was studying in Class 10. Unlike me, she had a completely different personality. She liked going to parties, meeting her friends, and spending her evenings outside. She hardly ever spent time with me. Sometimes, it hurt—I wished we were closer, that she would ask me about my day or laugh with me the way sisters usually do. But I had already grown used to being with my parents, and so I kept those wishes to myself.
Despite our distance, she showed her care in her own way. If I wanted something, she would try her best to fulfill it. When she saw me sad, she would bring me small gifts or snacks just to make me smile. That was her version of love.
But then, everything changed. My sister failed her Class 10 exams. I remember the silence in the room when the results came out, the disappointment that hung heavy in the air. My parents were heartbroken. They wanted her to join a private school, but money was a wall too high for us to climb.
Eventually, my sister refused to study further. She found a job—back then, it was easier since jobs were available for those who had finished Class 10. Not long after, she got married in the same year. It felt sudden, too fast for me to even process.
And with her marriage, my life took another turn. I was separated from my parents because my sister didn't want me to be caught in the middle of their struggles. So, after her wedding, she took me to live with her.