I befriended her in kindergarten. She was not any of those over-the-top adjectives you would use to describe your best friend. Overall, she was an ordinary four-year old that had grabbed my attention on the first day of kindergarten.

I didn’t like her much to begin with. There was nothing unique about her. Can someone’s ordinariness make them stand apart in the crowd? I beg to differ. She was nothing but an ordinary 22-year-old. But my mother suspected something from the beginning. Mamma felt she was a little different from other girls. She preferred baggy pants and trousers over the skirts and dresses. She sported cropped hair and detested cosmetics. Everyone around us referred to her as a ‘tom-boy’ but not mamma. So, maybe she was not that ordinary.

I could never put a finger on what was so different about her to pique mamma's curiosity. But little did I know things were about to turn upside-down. My best friend was going to leave me for a faraway place.

I was engrossed in texting my cousin in the wee hours of the morning when her number flashed across the mobile screen. I didn't pick up. I was not in the mood. I cut the call put the phone on silent and slept.

Following day, I was woken up by mamma in a hurried fashion. She ordered me to dress up and follow her suit. She didn't give me any details. The car ride was haunting because of the eerie silence. Mamma parked the car in her driveway. Her parents were nowhere to be seen. We entered the house and I found her younger brother with tear-stained cheeks sitting on the sofa and skimming through the photo albums. I felt a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Had something happened to her? Was it a nightmare that I could wake up from? She was nowhere to be seen. I entered her room reluctantly and there unfolded a scene that pricked my heart and tore it into thousand pieces. Room was covered with an assortment of things. Torn letters were lying around, photographs with burnt edges were sitting in their ashes, withered rose petals, broken photo frames, trunks with skirts, dresses and cosmetics were thrown all over the room. Was I surprised? I don’t know. But amidst all the paraphernalia, I found a blade dripping with blood sitting silently over her favorite quilt.

Today marks her first year of departure to the faraway place. Mamma was not wrong. She was different. She never deserved to live amidst us. I over everyone else let her down. She was the repository of my secrets. She was the casket of my shattered dreams and broken promises. She was something for everyone. My friendship was everything to her but her love was one of the many things to me that I never prioritized. She bottled up everything and never whispered a word. I failed to climb the walls and peer in the house that sheltered her "identity". I belittled her love and friendship. I should have been there when she needed me the most. I should have picked up her last call and every other call that I missed. I should have reciprocated her feelings when there was time. These should have, could have and would have, could never do any good to anyone. They only symbolize the regret one carries around till the last breath. Oh, how I wish I had been there for her.