She was beautiful, or so she seemed in that split second
when I could catch her glimpse.
But probably she thought she was ugly.
Well she was, although I would not call ugly, rather ‘not-so-beautiful’.
This I realized after a moment, when she came close to me; very close.
It would have been bothering her that she was ugly, unlike
her friends. Perhaps that’s why she wanted to end her life. She died; infront
of me. In a way I am responsible for her murder. If it were not for me and my
vehicle at that moment, at that spot, may be she wouldn’t have lost her life.
Was that intentional or accidental?
I killed her.
Or rather, she committed suicide.
I don’t know her name.
And I don’t want to name her, just for this obituary. Let
that be a mystery. Just like her life.
Life in her cocoon must have been a bliss, and she might
have seen hell in this world.
Rest in peace, dear butterfly.
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