Saturday, December 2008. That is the day that something awful happened to me. Or rather, I did something awful.

When my mind wanders off, somehow, it always manages to bring itself to that single moment—that single day—when I caused someone to suffer. This is a story of regret, remorse, and guilt.  

It started on a chilly winter day, around noon, when the black capped chickadees and the brown-headed nuthatches were chirping. Icicle clear dew was dropping from the branches of bare trees.

I was inside my house, with my twin sister, baking some chocolate cookies for a party later in the day. Little did I know how sorrowful the day would become.

     Ker-plunk! The glass broke, shattering into several different pieces on the floor. Chocolate chunks sprayed everywhere, and bits of flour got on my toes. “I’m sorry,” I managed to mutter as I stared at what I had just done. My twin sister just stared at me, then the floor, giving me her look.

My sister had a temper. Once she got mad, she got mad, and took some time to get over it. What was I supposed to say, if I made a mistake? We had been baking cookies in a glass bowl, which I had accidently managed to break.

“Let’s just start over,” I shrugged, “and please don’t tell mom.” The last thing I wanted right now was for my parents to figure out that I had broken one of their glass bowls. It felt like every day, I made a mistake. A big mistake. Why was I always so clumsy? I couldn’t seem to get anything right.

My sister kept gawking at me weirdly like she could read my mind.

    “What?” I told her laughing at the odd expression on her face.

    “Are you going to pick that up?” she said glowering at me.

     “Okay, okay,” I said grinning and started picking up the shattered pieces of glass.

We started over and mixed the wet ingredients and dry ingredients for the cookies. My sister got out another bowl, this time plastic, and shaped the batter into cookies.

“Should we add nuts?” my sister asked, once we had a batch of a dozen cookies on a tray.

“Sure, let’s do it,” I smiled, and slowly started adding nuts to the cookies. And that one sentence--that one comment--would cause me to feel guilty forever.

The cookies came out freshly baked and smelled overwhelmingly delicious. But since I knew they were for the party, I resisted my temptation to eat them.

When we arrived at the party, the first person I saw was my frenemy, Regina. Regina had curly, silky black hair with red lips and rosy cheeks. When she smiled, you could see her perfectly straight teeth, which would remind you of all the smiling faces in the toothpaste commercials.  But Regina’s looks were no match for her inner character. She had ditched me. She had by far called me the meanest names. She had broken my iPad, claimed it was an “accident,” and didn’t pay for it. I looked away quickly to not catch eye contact with her.

When I went outside to the barbeque, my best friend Meredith waved at me shyly. I waved back casually. Meredith’s horrible past was hidden behind the mask on her face. She used to have long, chestnut brown hair which slightly covered her beautiful, chocolate brown eyes. She used to have a tan, brown face coated with a blush of rosemary pink on her cheeks. She used to have a small curved nose that would always remind me of Princess Jodha from the serials I used to watch in India.  But after the accident, Meredith no longer possessed her beautiful features. I remembered the day very clearly.

Meredith had cried her heart out and she knew that her life would change forever. And it had. Now, Meredith wore a light blue mask which covered most of her face. Meredith’s sister Bonnie was a cute, chubby, sensitive 4 year old with curly, ebony black short hair. Her hazel eyes complimented her adorable little face. But at the middle of her little neck was a bulgy red scar, which Bonnie had had ever since she was born.

I passed out all of my freshly baked cookies to the eager people who wanted it, including many of my friends, like Meredith, Regina (she insisted), Bonnie, and Alecia.

What happened next in the first few hours of the party, is more like a blur to me. For a while, Meredith and I played some games upstairs. Eventually, we got super bored (which happened in every single party), and ended up watching a movie. Unfortunately, we took up almost the whole time deciding on the movie instead of watching it.

“Oh my gosh, look at what’s happening to Bonnie!” I suddenly heard an anxious cry coming from downstairs that sounded a lot like Bonnie’s mom.

  “Let’s go see what’s the problem,” Meredith, said, adjusting her mask. I always admired Meredith’s instinctive reaction to someone else feeling pain. She always immediately wanted to know what was wrong. I, on the other hand, would just prefer to continue watching the movie.

But, anyway, since I was in a whole load of suspense and curiosity, we went downstairs, where Bonnie and a crowd had gathered. Even my sister was there, with an agitated look on her face. I somehow managed to push in through the crowd to see what was happening to Bonnie.

“AAUGHHHHH!” Bonnie moaned incessantly.

Bonnie had started to get huge, blood red, patches on her chubby, bare arms. She looked like a flabby snake which had just shed its skin. Her eyes had tiny droplets of water at the bottom, where the pupil met the retina. There was a look of apprehension and unease in her face. She was making moaning noises, as her mom examined her closely. I started feeling nervous.

“UHHHHHHHH!” Bonnie groaned again.

Tension arose in my head, and I could sense that something was seriously wrong. My heart stung as if a needle had been poked right through me. Bonnie started crying softly with agony, as her father came up and lifted her in his arms.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” Bonnie’s father said with a helpless, sober, expression to Bonnie. Instantly I felt guilt start pouring through my mind. A picture came into my head, and I remembered Meredith asking me whether Bonnie could eat the cookies.

“Why did I say yes?s-------- Of course, silly! Bonnie is allergic to nuts! ” I told myself inside my head. I didn’t know what was wrong with me---I felt like a bad person. What if someone figured out what I had done? That I--Aaliyah Rou--had caused an innocent little girl to suffer so much pain. I was like a convict standing quietly at the scene of my own crime.

I remembered all those times when Bonnie and I had played together, gone camping, and when we had even had a week-long sleepover. My throat ached, and I just stared at Bonnie’s expressionless face. I had a very strong liking for Bonnie, and the last thing I wanted was for her to fall sick. I didn’t know what to do at this moment.

    “How did this happen?” I heard Regina’s insisting voice asking Bonnie’s father. Though I didn’t hear Bonnie’s father’s reply, I already knew the answer. The problem was, no one else did. It hurt my heart to think about it.

  I saw Bonnie’s father arguing with Bonnie’s mother. “Why did you feed something wrong to Bonnie?” Bonnie’s father asked Bonnie’s mother. Bonnie’s mother just looked at her husband soberly, her face down.

   “I don’t believe that I gave any food, which might have caused Bonnie to-to get like this,” Bonnie’s mother said in a shrill voice, gasping, as Bonnie’s father left the house, with Bonnie whimpering in his hands.
   
I just stood there, though I should have confessed. I should have gone up to Bonnie’s mother and father and told them what I had done. I should have told her that I had added nuts in the cookies, which had caused Bonnie to have an allergic reaction. I should have given them the truth. I should have. But for some reason, I don’t know why I didn’t. I wish I had some more courage in me.

My soul felt like it was about to collapse, as I watched Bonnie’s mother glancing around at some of the food she might have fed little Bonnie. I slowly stopped a tear from coming out of my eye with the tip of my finger. I didn’t feel like I deserved this party anymore. I didn’t feel like I deserved anything.

After Bonnie’s mother got a call from Bonnie’s father (who was at the hospital), she frantically dropped the phone and left the house without a word.

“What happened to Bonnie?” I kept hearing soft mutters coming from everyone at the party.

“I don’t know,” I heard someone say. What had happened to Bonnie, now? Was she ok? Why had Bonnie’s mother suddenly left? Had she gone to check on Bonnie? I gulped.

Meanwhile, it was time to eat at the party, so I picked a speck of food, and ate the food that I might have enjoyed, if only-if only-I hadn’t given that cookie to Bonnie. I didn’t sit next to anyone in particular while eating--my mood had changed from happy to dismal.

Ding Dong! The doorbell rang. Bonnie’s mother came home with no one else, with a depressed expression on her face. What startled me, was that I had never seen Bonnie’s mother in this state. Her hair was tied messily in a bun at the top of her head like a bundle of yarn. For the first time, I noticed the dull gray streaks in her hair and diminished circles around her eyes. I noticed the curved wrinkles next to her mouth. Her eyes looked swollen, as if she had been just crying.

A crowd of parents huddled around Bonnie’s mother, curious of what had happened. “Bonnie’s still at the hospital,” I heard Bonnie’s mother say solemnly. “She, well, the doctor has said that she has tightness in her lungs. It’s not normal,” she slowly wiped away a tear from her eyes. “She’ll have to stay at the hospital for some time. Right now she’s there with my husband. Oh, I so hope everything’s going to be alright.”

What followed was silence. Then I saw my mother patting Bonnie’s mother on the back. After asking Bonnie’s mother a few more questions, all the parents sat down quietly in the living room. I heard soft voices muttering I never knew it would get this intense.

My mouth felt unusually dry. “Will Bonnie be alright?” someone I didn’t know asked. We were sitting upstairs, waiting for news about Bonnie. I heard Meredith crying softly, her delicate hands touching her mask, and her head tilted down with her knees wrapped together.

What if everyone figured out I had done this to her? At this moment--I couldn’t think of anything else. I was afraid that someday if I wrote an autobiography of myself, this moment would go in it. It kept coming in my mind again and again. I would forever be burdened by the past. Thoughts flooded my head, as to what was happening to Bonnie.

Bonnie’s mother came in our room upstairs, suddenly with a hand on her head. She had never before looked so stressed. “Girls, Bonnie is still at the hospital. She is getting a few medicinal pills, as of now, because of the problem in her lungs. She will have to stay in the hospital for some time,” she said quietly, “but the doctor mentioned that she will be alright, after a couple of weeks.”
   
Bonnie’s mother looked relieved. I felt extremely relieved. I thought the situation would have gotten much worse. For the rest of the party, I didn’t talk to anyone. I didn’t feel like doing anything in the party. All I felt was shame and regret, because I hadn’t confessed.

From that day on, though Bonnie turned out to be alright after a couple of weeks, in the longest of the nights, I still remembered that day. I was burdened by the past, as it still kept flashing in my head. I felt remorseful every day, for all that I had caused to Bonnie’s family. I truly loved Bonnie’s family by heart, for what good friends they were. I felt ashamed and guilt-ridden for the fact that I never ended up confessing for what I did. My heart would always have that imaginary hole that came from this day--this moment.