Too Real To Be Fake

Aditi Parikh
Jun 7 · 2 min read

Out of all the people in this world, I trust my mom the most or maybe I was taught to do so.

So when Naina told me “You are such a sweetheart.” To her face, I utter “Fuck you. You are such a liar.” I mean, black can’t be a color for sweetness!

Fuck would be the biggest word for a seven-year-old me. Mind it.

Mom once told me “You have a black heart because you keep hurting people with your loud reactions.”

My teacher once asked me to draw a heart and all I could ask her was “Can I get a black crayon to fill it in?”

Meanwhile, my fondness for black grew and shared the same with my soul, dark enough to not be loved maybe. Right, mom?

Once my best friend Riya told me “Thanks for helping you are an amazing friend!” And I thought "The world is deceitful with prejudiced people all around. Sigh! Haina Maa?"

Mom, why are people so weird? Lying all the fucking time! Just tell them how bad I am with relations. Tell them how I don’t have any friends.

Social awkwardness is another charm to my personality so why does Aditya keep on telling me that I am the best 3 AM friend he ever had? Such a fibber ass he is!

Besides the color black, hatred was growing proportionally with my soul. I hated Naina, Riya and now even Aditya.

I never saw any of them after that and neither did anyone else.

Besides my social awkwardness, I send everyone to the same room, with a slit in the same place, the same size maybe!

JINX !! :-D

The sound of the blood gushing down their neck. Ohh! At least I loved something about them!

And sometimes rending them so, even they find it hard to even recognize their own face.

So if ever you felt like saying “Wow you are good. Keep Writing.”

All I would say is “Think twice!”

Aditi Parikh

Written by

Diary Of A StoryTeller ❤

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