**VOIDS FILL UP**
## **DIFFERENTLY**

DIFFERENT IDENTITIES COME FROM DIFFERENT STORIES

Work

Family

Friends

Self

Lovers

_1_

_STUDENTS OF IACT_

This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places, and incidents either

are the products of the authors' imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

and events are purely coincidental.

_2_

To all the people in the world that feel alone,

this book is dedicated to all of you

as a reminder that no matter what,

everyone deserves to be _loved._

DMC 201801/04

_3_

C

O

N

T

_Chapt_

E

_er 1_

_Chapt_

N

_er 3_

T

_For_

_the brokenhearted._

S

_For the ones_

.

_13_ Takeoff

_Chapt_

_in search of identity._

_er 2_

Even so, the Reason Is Out There _26_

_204_ One Eye Open

An Act of Love

_45_

_For_

Roses to Myself _220_

_the ones_

Bros Before Hoes _63_

_in search of meaning. 235_

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Dear Diary

_78_

A Lonely Spirit In December _253_

From Chanel to Hell

_155_

Mirage _94_

Parallel Line _168_

Letters Beneath the Screen

_108_

_186_

The Journey of Love

Trust In me, Trust In you _122_

Dear Mum and Dad

_139_

_4_

hat is

_W_

love?

_5_

t i

_I_ s a deep affection that we have for the things around us

It could be for a person, an animal, an object, a hobby, virtual y anything, and everything.

Love is finite, infinite, conditional, unconditional, love is al .

It is often described as being subjective to oneself as we all feel loved in different ways.

However,

do you ever imagine to what extent love can affect us?

It brings us hope, strength, and peace.

Yet, not everyone experiences the positive side of love.

Love can destroy a human's heart if it's not dealt with properly.

And that results in us to feel alone, empty, distant.

_6_

oreword.

_F_

This is a compilation of short stories written by IACT's very own students.

Even though we are of different ages and backgrounds,

it is safe to say that we have been in situations that are similar

or may relate to the stories written in this compilation.

This book showcases that every individual goes through something in their lives.

Whatever that "something" is,

it could be the best or worst thing that has ever happened to them.

It could be a feeling of loneliness or being the happiest person in the room,

We have all gone through or maybe are still going through a situation

that we can't seem to decipher,

whether it be a positive or a negative thing.

Whether it's about family, friendship or even self-love,

these are just some of the things that we can never real y run away from.

_7_

This book gives us a glimpse into situations

that people are going through and the outcome of it.

It's a book where it isn't just made-up fairytales but real-life situations too.

Each story is a worthwhile read because it is written and created

not just based on imagination but with real-life feelings

and experiences involved as well as shows the different situations people go through in life.

It shows emotions, feelings, character and most importantly, love.

Different elements of love and hope in one single book.

The interrelation and inter-connection between each story

showcase that even though we are going through something different,

we can all still relate to each other, one way or another.

With love, we either accept it as it is or we deny it.

. . .

_H_ owever,

However, somewhere deep within our hearts,

we have this sense of faith where we feel that everything will be alright

at the end or at least we hope it will be.

Helen Keller, a famous author once said,

_8_

The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard,

but must be felt with the heart.

Helen Keller

_9_

_Fall in love over and over again..._

oids Fill Up Dif

_V_

ferently

is a compilation of short stories that revolve around the theme of love

and that it could come in many different shapes and forms.

rom stories of religion

_F_

to people of different identities and backgrounds that correlate with each other.

No matter what walk of life you are from,

there is hopefully something for you here.

ll the stories are are dif

_A_

ferent

but they all prompt the reader to go out there and live life.

Written by a dedicated team of college students,

the book is curated to move the soul and touch the heart.

et in a non-fictional universe,

_S_

it adds a certain realism towards the stories

and can hopefully push the readers to believe that

anything can be achieved in this world.

_10_

Turn the page and fill up your void.

_11_

_For the brokenhearted..._

_12_

_akeoff_

_T_

"Thank you, Miss Cheng!" sung the class before heading off for recess.

"You guys go ahead. I have some work that I have to finish." I told Daniel

and Amirul. I wanted to finish it quickly so I wouldn't be stuck at home fin-

ishing my dreaded homework as I had more important things to do. Also, I

didn't want to tempt myself at the canteen. I wanted to save my money for

something pretty big. I finished my work with eight minutes to spare giving

me some time to socialize with my friends.

"Chin Han, why aren't you eating?" Amirul asked.

"I'm not hungry"

"No way you're never hungry. If you don't have money, just say so" Daniel

responded.

"Well, I'm trying to save money actually. I want to be a pilot and I want to

go to the Malaysian Flight Academy when I graduate."

"Bro you save for what? You cannot even afford a RM1 packet of Nasi Le-

mak, you can go fly kite lah," said Daniel following a burst of laughter from

him and Amirul.

I didn't quite see the humour in their comment but I chuckled along al-

though I was actually offended by the snarky remarks that they made. It was

weird. My heart actually hurt. I didn't have many friends, in fact, it was just

Daniel and Amirul. I never told anyone about my dreams before and I don't

think I want to again. I just expected some sort of support from my friends

_13_

but instead they've made me feel like an outcast. I guess I didn't have any real friends here. I didn't let their comments affect me too much. I kept myself pretty distracted for the rest of the day for it to still linger in my mind.

I walked back home as soon as school ended. I didn't bother waiting for

Daniel and Amirul. The blazing hot sun was practically burning my skin.

I ran straight for some shade as soon as I saw my apartment complex. As

usual, I held my breath as I walked in to prevent myself from breathing in

the god-awful stench from the garbage disposal. The stairs leading up to

my apartment were equally cluttered with garbage. I eventually reached my

floor and could finally take a breather.

The front door was open as always. My idiotic brothers went to go hang out

with their friends and couldn't even bother closing the door after them. Pa,

was sleeping on his recliner, shirtless with a half-empty bottle of booze in

his hand. Mama, had passed out on the floor and was drooling onto the beer-

stained carpet. I've heard so many touching stories from Daniel and Amirul.

Their parents bought them video games, toys and whatever they wanted.

Mine wouldn't even pay attention to me. I didn't desire materialistic items

from my family, all I wanted was to be loved and to feel loved. I always felt

like an outcast everywhere I went. I was so different from the other kids at

school. Even at home, I didn't share any resemblance with my family.

I changed out of my green trousers and white shirt into a more comfortable

pair of shorts and a grubby blue t-shirt. I was ready to leave but my stomach

was churning as I had not eaten that day. I couldn't continue on an empty

_14_

stomach. I looked through my fridge to discover only rancid food and beer.

The only thing that was sort of edible was some bread. Even that had patch-

es of mould on it. I scraped off the mould and had to make do with what I

had.

How was I planning to go the Malaysian Flight Academy if my family was

like that? I needed to fend for myself and hustle my way to the top. So, this

is how I earned my money. I was only 15, so I couldn't legally get a proper

part-time job. Instead, I would do a range of odd jobs like washing cars and

sweeping driveways for the residents. There was a couple who stayed there

who were particularly fond of me, Aunty Fatimah and Uncle Mohan. They

always paid me more than the rest but other than that, Uncle always used to

tell me that I worked harder than most people twice my age. Aunty would

always prepare something for me to eat whenever I went over to wash their

cars. My favourite was her mouth-watering fish curry and she would make

sure to prepare it at least once a week for me.

The day turned dark. I was exhausted but satisfied with the amount of money

I earned. After a hard day of work, I would unwind at the abandoned play-

ground in my apartment complex. I leaned back on one of the only benches

that wasn't broken. I looked up and saw those majestic giant metallic birds

in the sky fly past. I always stared at planes as a sort of escape from reality.

When I was younger, Mama and I had a special bond. She never had the

money to buy me toys. So, she would sit with me by the window and we

would watch the planes go by. It was simple but ever so special. She loved

me very much but she grew to love something more. Alcohol. Pa was never

_15_

the best father. They never intended on having children so young but Mama

got pregnant by mistake and they had their first child at 21. Money was tight

and he couldn't cope. He resorted to alcohol and became an inebriate. It

didn't bode well with his bad temper. There was so much pressure on dear

Ma to raise three children with a drunk husband. It took a toll on Mama.

She started drinking some of Pa's beer and she got hooked as well. The once

loving mother that kept the family together fell apart.

The apartment door was shut meaning my brothers were home. They were

chatting at the dining table and they were whispering to each other while

staring at me suspiciously. They didn't say anything to me so I minded my

own business. Pa was in an almost identical position but this time conscious.

Poor Mama was still on the floor but she had moved since earlier. I tried

to be lowkey as possible and ignore them so that I could keep my earnings

somewhere safe.

My old school uniform was my trusty safe. I kept all my money in there

and I knew no one would look in there. As I reached for the shirt pocket, I

heard the bedroom door slam open. My hand began to tremble in fear. My

brothers were there staring at me menacingly. I quickly took my hands out

of the pocket and left the money in there.

"What are you doing?" said Chin Jian sternly.

"N-n-n-nothing, Gor"

_16_

Chin Jian raced towards me and lifted me up by my collar and slammed me

against the wall. I didn't mind taking a beating as long as they didn't take

my money. I saw Chin Huai heading to inspect my shirt.

"G-g-g-g-gor, p-please don-" Chin Jian's smacked me before I could even

finish my sentence.

"Wah, the boy very rich ah, but also very selfish." said Chin Huai sarcasti-

cally while counting the money.

"So you think you don't need to share your money with your brothers is it?

You're going to pay! Every ringgit you didn't share with us, we will give

you one punch!" screamed Chin Jian right before punching me straight in

the gut.

Who do they think they are? Coming in to steal my money for no reason.

I worked too hard for my money just for them to take it away from me. I

let out a clean punch straight to Chin Jian. I thought I was some big shot.

Standing up to my big brother. I tried to let out another one but he caught my

fist. Shit. My confidence plummeted immediately. My brothers hung out in

gangs and were no strangers to fights. I saw the fire in his eyes. He pounced

on me and brought me straight to the ground. He was furious. Punch after

punch, I couldn't even react because of how fast he was. I could already feel

the bruises that were going to show up in the morning. He started to slow

down and I managed to push him away but then Chin Huai came and held

my arms down while Chin Jian continued unleashing his fury. Footsteps

_17_

approached the room followed by a loud booming voice.

"What is going on?!" said Pa furiously.

"Pa, he is keeping money from us," said Chin Jian as they both stopped

beating me.

Pa took slow menacing steps, edging closer to the three of us. "How dare

my children do this to each other?" exclaimed Pa.

Finally, those idiots are going to get what they deserve. Pa is finally on my

side. Maybe he'll be proud that I'm working hard. I looked at Pa's face and

his it was very different from what I hoped. My grin disappeared imme-

diately. A shudder ran through me as I saw Pa's face. He kicked me in the

chest so hard, I struggled to breath but he didn't show any sign of remorse.

"How could you be keeping money from us?!" said Pa sternly as he picked

me up by my collar and slammed me against the wall. He leaned closer to

my face and whispered menacingly, so close that I could feel the wind and

spit pass by when he spoke: "What type of son keeps money from each his

own family? You're selfish!".

I tried to hold in my tears but I just couldn't. Pa spat on my face."My sons

don't cry," he said before dropping me to the floor. He kicked me and spat

on my face once again before walking away.

My brothers were sniggering the entire time Pa punished me. Pa beckoned

to them before leaving the room. "Give it to me" Pa signalled towards the

_18_

money.

"Good work, boys. Make sure he learns his lesson" instructed Pa. My broth-

ers did as they were told and continued battering me until they bruised their

own knuckles. My face felt so bruised that I could barely see anything. They

got up and I thought my sufferings were over. I was wheezing harder than

ever trying to catch a breath. Blood was coming out of me after each cough.

My brothers grabbed me by my ankle and dragged me towards the kitchen

before I could even think about getting up. They still weren't satisfied. They

lifted me up and pushed me against the fridge. I heard Mama get up and I

thought maybe this time they'll get what's coming to them.

"Shut up! You boys are giving me a headache!" Mama screamed while rub-

bing her temple.

I thought Mama cared about me. At least a little bit. She saw me battered

and bloodsoaked while being held against the fridge with blood dripping

down against its walls. She didn't even bat an eye. I couldn't comprehend

what just happened. They opened the fridge and shoved me inside. I tried

pushing the door open but they pushed it down against the door so I couldn't

escape.

My heart pumped faster than ever although I felt dead inside. Everywhere

hurt. I didn't feel anything but pain at that moment. I was curled up and

crying for help for what felt like an hour. No one was coming. I gave up. I

struggled to comprehend how any of this was just.

_19_

I knew I had a rough life but I never imagined that I would ever find myself crying to sleep, alone in a fridge.

Many hours went by. I was woken up by pounding from the walls around

me. I felt myself being lifted up in a pitch black box. I didn't know if I was

even alive or not. A bright light appeared before my eyes. I was expecting

angels to be welcoming me to heaven. It was just Pa.

"Why are you still inside? You made everything so dirty." grumbled Pa. I

didn't respond. I just wanted to clean myself up. I brushed passed Pa head-

ing towards the bathroom.

"Chin Han, you better have learnt your lesson." Pa said as he pointed to-

wards me. I ignored him and went straight towards the bathroom.

I couldn't recognise the person staring back at me in the mirror. I was bruised

and covered in blood that had dried up overnight. My stomach felt tight and

I started to breathe uncontrollably. Sweat began to drip down the sides of

my head. I began to feel lightheaded. I stumbled into the shower as fast as

I could and let the water run. I fell straight to the cold hard porcelain floor

and started to calm down as the cold water touched my body. Flashes of the

night before kept replaying in my head like a broken record. What upset me

the most was remembering Mama not helping me. She was once the only

shepherd for the black sheep of the family but didn't show a single sign of

compassion and empathy towards me.

What is the point of trying if everything I do always ends up backfiring in

_20_

the end? If my brothers could be praised for their cruelty, why should I try to be good if it only ends in suffering. My blood was boiling. Maybe, I should

just stop trying to work hard if I get punished instead of rewarded. I dried

myself off and left the bathroom. I pushed the door open and I saw an all too

familiar and unpleasant scene.

Pa and Mama, unconscious in our gloomy living room with their trusty bot-

tle of booze by their side. The door was left wide open with no signs of my

brothers. I immediately snapped out of my earlier thoughts. I didn't want to

end up like them. I wanted to make a name for myself and step out of my

family's hopelessness. I wanted to be a pilot. I didn't want to be a drunkard

who stays at home all day being a nuisance to society. I needed to work

harder if I didn't want to end up like them.

The afternoon sun was shining. I didn't realise how long exactly I was

trapped in the fridge. I couldn't find out because the batteries in the clock

hadn't been changed in years. My mind was set on working hard. I actually

started to look at the bright side of being in this situation. It motivated me

to become a better and more independent person. Also, the misery I faced at

home motivated me to work more just to escape being back there.

That night, I worked until half past ten. I never worked this late. I don't

think I would've stopped unless Aunty Fatimah told me she wanted to get

ready to sleep. All my hard work was taken away from me by my own fam-

ily. I didn't want to go back home and face them yet again.

I was wandering around the neighbourhood just looking for any excuse to

_21_

be away from home.

I heard a loud roaring sound coming from above. An aeroplane had just

taken off. I had nowhere to go, so I decided to head towards the airport. I

had never been to an airport before but I found the experience to be abso-

lutely mesmerising. The big bright lights and the sight of the aeroplanes put

a genuine smile to my face. I heard the same sound again but louder. I ran

after it and found myself in front of a fence. I was on the opposite side of the

runway. I looked up and saw an aeroplane fly right over my head. "Woah!"

I screamed as I fell to the ground. The wind that passed by me made me feel

something like never before. I began laughing to myself like a madman. I

had never seen an aeroplane so close before. I couldn't contain myself. It

was genuinely the happiest I felt in such a long time.

Go to school. Study hard. Odd jobs around the neighbourhood before end-

ing the night with a visit to the airport. This was my new daily routine. I

spent more time away from home; in fact, I would only go home to shower

and change my clothes. It wasn't a problem for me. My parents wouldn't

even notice if I was gone. Sometimes, I would even fall asleep at the airport.

Two years had passed and I was nervously waiting for my SPM results. I

needed a minimum of 2B's in either Mathematics, Science or English and

two credits for any other subject to get into the Malaysian Flight Academy.

My dreams relied on this. I was hoping all my hard work would pay off. I

was standing in line anxiously. I even ran out of fingernails to chew on.

_22_

"Next", said Miss Cheng while waving her arms at me. She handed my slip

over to me and my heart began to pound faster than ever.

"YES!" I shouted while jumping up in the air. Fellow students were staring

at me as if I was crazy but I didn't care. I sprinted out of school excitedly

heading back home. I did it. I had the qualifications to enter the academy.

My hard work paid off. I truly deserved this.

It was time. I could go to the academy. All I needed were my things and I'd

be ready to go and leave my life here behind.

I found an old duffel bag during my frequent trips to the airport. I kept my

earnings in there, but this time I found a better hiding place. There was a

small opening in the roof which allowed me to hide it without raising sus-

picion.

My excitement died down the closer I got to home. I knew my parents would

be asleep and my brothers would be out of the house but I was still nervous.

The staircase seemed longer than before. Sweat was dripping down the

sides of my head and my heart was beating ever so quickly. The old beaten

up door to my apartment stood before me. Unlocked as usual. I saw exactly

what I wanted. No sign of my brothers and my parents were asleep. I crept

into my room, trying to remain as silent as possible. I packed all my clothes

in an old suitcase that I found at the airport a year before. I was about to

leave but I wanted to take one last look at my room. There weren't many

_23_

good memories here. The blood stains from that night were still visible on the floor.

My hand was on the doorknob. I was ready to venture off into a new chapter

of life but then, I heard the sound of a bottle crashing to the ground. Pa lost

grip of his bottle while sleeping and it woke him up. I was not prepared for

this, I was praying internally, hoping that my dad would not notice me there.

My prayers weren't answered.

"Where do you think you're going?" I thought since this was potential-

ly last time that I would see him, I could just run and not think about it. I

grabbed the doorknob and before I could turn it, a sharp broken piece of

glass pierced through my hand. I screamed in agony and fell to the ground

holding my hand.

Pa took my bag. "Not again," I thought to myself. "It's been two years and

you still haven't learnt anything." said Pa furiously. Pa took my bag into the

kitchen with him. Last time, he took close to a thousand ringgit. This time

it was much more and I couldn't afford to lose it again. I removed the piece

of glass from my palm. I ran towards him and stabbed in his right shoulder.

I heard him whimper. He was in pain but he was more angry than he was in

pain. He turned around and smacked me in the face as hard as he could and

it sent me straight to the ground.

Pa was bigger, stronger and smarter at fighting than I was. I couldn't win a

fight of brauns with him. He picked me up while hooking his arm around

_24_

my neck and began to strangle me. "You need to learn your lesson once and

for all!" screamed Pa while removing the shard of glass from his shoulder

with his free hand. "I showed you mercy before but not this time. You are

going to die for your own selfishness. You did this to yourself! I should've

left you in the fridge all those years and left your body to rot" said Pa furi-

ously.

He was trying to shove me back inside but I was fighting harder this time.

I managed to outmaneuver him. This was my chance. I pushed his back

towards the fridge, and quickly pulled it down. The fridge came crashing

straight onto Pa's knees. He screamed at the top of his lungs. It was too

heavy for him to lift without his lower body.

"Please, Chin Han. Don't leave me alone like this."

"Why should I help you when you wouldn't do the same for me"

"Chin Han, I'm your father! Drop the bag and come over here now!"

"None of you ever treated me with respect. If I do help you, all you're going

to do is punish me and steal my money. I'm going to be better than all of you

and raise a family properly in the future. Thank you for teaching me how

**NOT** to raise a family"

"You better come back here you stupid boy! I am your father and you will

obey me!"

"You're not my father and I am no longer your son."

_25_

_Even So, The Reason Is Out There_

My name is Wei Lai. I'm 18 years old.

**"What do you think it means to live your life?"**

**"I don't know and I don't care. What's the point of living and existing**

**anyway? I don't even know my purpose for existing. We are all living**

**beings born to face death one day, so what's the point?"**

Every day is just the same wash, rinse and repeat the process. It always feels

like eating a packet of cold and stale nasi lemak. I always wonder about the

point of my meaningless existence in this world. I'm worthless, untalented,

and a complete bother. Why did God create me in the first place if this was

how it would end up becoming from the very beginning?

**"What are you trying to prove?"**

**"You're a waste of time for others, I bet it's the same with your own**

**family."**

**"If you can't even perform simple tasks and solve simple questions,**

**how are you supposed to be someone successful in the future?"**

I could never do well in my academics so my parents were often disappoint-

_26_

pointed. There were plenty of teachers who had given up on me. I didn't

even have a social life either. There was this other guy, Robert, who was just

like me; isolated from everyone else. I understood his experiences, but we

were never friends. At the end of the day, I was still alone; just an outcast.

What a meaningless existence.

All I ever wanted was for people to accept me. I just wanted them to give

me even the smallest amount of support. That would've been enough in my

honest opinion. I wanted to achieve something in life. But when I look at

myself in the mirror, I always knew that it was something that I could never

achieve in this life of mine. Hilarious. I saw someone reflected in the mirror

that wasn't me, he said to me:

**"So what are you going to do about it?"**

His features resembled mine, a splitting image. It was weird to talk to some-

one who looked exactly like myself. Not only that, I was the only person

who could see him while others couldn't.

**"A puppet with no real sights set upon what it wants. Following others**

**for the sake of being noticed, to be accepted? You can never achieve**

**anything in life like this. But if you let yourself free, perhaps you could**

**achieve your own happiness."**

It was just a dream. I was sure of it.

_27_

Perhaps I was too tired of everything. I just want to go into a deep sleep and never wake up again.

I gave up on being a proper individual. I don't care about living a life that I

could be proud of. I want to take the easy way out of things, even from life

itself. Just what is the point that people want to be successful? It would just

end up being meaningless anyway.

I lied to my parents, skipped classes, was constantly having arguments with

those around me. I closed my ears, and don't care about what or how others

think of me now.

I just wanted to live a simple life not having the need to shoulder any ex-

pectations at all, is that too much to ask for? I don't want to die with all this

burden on me, can I?

We all die at one point. Living is just a temporary thing. People always die

in different ways; they die due to old age, diseases, get in accidents, get

killed by others perhaps? Or even them killing themselves. Death is such

a nice thing to have around is it not? I wonder if people think of sad things

when they die. Perhaps I will find that out one day when I die.

**"Value your own life and don't ever do anything as stupid as taking**

**your own life. Your life is precious and it's a sin to ever treat it lightly."**

So what?

_28_

I don't care about God, neither the concept of Heaven nor Hell.

I just want to live the way I want to.

My parents found out about my behaviour in school. Of course, they were

angered by my behaviour and they were even more strict towards me since

then.

I was pissed. Why can't I just do anything I want with my life?

I kept my mouth shut, and the person from my dreams appeared once more.

But this wasn't a dream, he whispered to me.

**"Ahhh, wouldn't it be nicer if you just...talked back? Why not let them**

**understand your intentions? Voice out your opinion? Do you really want**

**to live being enslaved by their way of thinking? Do you really want to**

**be enslaved by the way of living that has been written down and con-**

**trolled by society? Break the norms, you can be the first one to do so."**

**His voice was cold, yet so soothing. I felt like I had someone I could rely**

## **on for once.**

I snapped. I yelled at my dad.

**"Why wouldn't you guys understand? I just want to live freely. I don't**

**care about what you want. I'm tired of living under instructions. I hate**

_29_

**you all, screw you all. I wish you guys were dead.**

What did I just say? Why?

I don't know.

I don't care.

It felt good.

"How did we end up with a child like this?", my dad said wilfully.

**"Didn't that feel great?",** the voice whispered.

It continued to go on and things felt much better. More than ever, that dad

of mine for whatever reason started trying to spend more time with me. He

tried to talk to me more. He tried to help me out with school loads more.

Though I could never understand his intentions.

What was his reasoning? I can't understand. But, I couldn't be bothered by

it anyway.

Until one day, he took his own life. I stood there in front of that cold body

of his. What do I do? What should I do? What CAN I do?

"I wish that you were dead instead"

_30_

**"Well this is your fault now, isn't it? Wouldn't it be better if you died** **instead? Remember those words?" he expressed heinously as he appeared once more.**

I couldn't say or do anything about it. I'm sorry for what I have done. I

dropped everything around and begged; pleaded God to take my life instead

of his. But prayers are always to be left unanswered. We're all just acting as

entertainment for God himself. And I am just a fool in the story. I was never

free, I was only tricking myself that everything would be fine if I lived the

way I wanted to.

Was this really what I wanted? To end up with the guilt of killing someone?

I wanted to cry out.

But that would just show others how weak and pathetic of a person I am.

I wanted people to listen.

But I didn't want to annoy others.

I wanted to redeem myself,

But I'm just a worthless individual, an untalented idiot, and... a murderer.

Does God really give shelter to those who believe in him? They said God

listens to us through our prayers?

What a load of absolute crap.

If God was the one who planned everything in the beginning , it would just

_31_

make him the author of this world, with us as his actors and actresses in it.

Everything that's good comes from God? What about the bad things? So,

every unfortunate thing that happens should just be blamed on the devil?

But, the devil himself was also just a creation of God.

My head hurts.

What is the point of existing? I never asked to exist in the first place.

Someone.

Please.

Help ME.

**"Don't you think it's too late to ask for help?"**

What else do you want from me?

**"I can help end your suffering"**

How?

**"Don't you want to be free from the guilt of killing your sin?"**

I do.

**"Don't you just feel the anger towards that God who made you?"**

_32_

I hate Him.

**"DON'T YOU JUST WANT TO END IT ALL? ONCE AND FOR ALL?**

**ABANDON THE ROLE THAT YOU WERE FORCED TO TAKE?**

**THE ROLE AS A SUFFERER? THE ROLE OF A MURDERER?"**

THE END. I JUST WANT THEM ALL TO END.

**"You know what you have to do now don't you?"**

"What can I do? What SHOULD I do?"

**As that reflection of mine danced around playfully, a noose appeared**

## **around his neck.**

"Wha-"

Before I could say a word, he vanished right before my eyes, just to reap-

pear lying on the ground with a pool of blood. He looked disfigured, man-

gled even. It was disgusting.

Did he just fall from above? My heart was racing, cold sweat trickling down

my cheeks. WHAT WAS GOING ON?

_33_

**"Or something more nostalgic? Perhaps a stab to your own heart?"**

He appeared once more with a blade pierced straight through his heart.

Piercingly cold dead eyes, with blood, splattered and stained all over him.

I came back to my senses from the shock. I looked down and noticed that I

was holding onto a small blade. Pressing the blade against my neck, I want-

ed to just end it all. I just couldn't stand it anymore, I can't stand this world.

It's not as if my death would bring an impact to the world itself. But why

can't I do it? Why can't I build up the strength to end it all? Am I just this

spineless and wimpy? Anger boiled at the brim of my existence and yet I

couldn't even finish myself off.

I'm pretty sure this is what you wanted right? What YOU created us for?

Just to toy with us and enjoy our suffering. The 'Almighty God' created us,

humans. The being that so many people cherished and worshipped. I'm so

tired of your little games. I don't care about the afterlife. I never asked to ex-

ist in this damned stage play that you created for us anyway. I never signed

up for any of this. But what can I do? I'm nothing but one of the many actors

on the stage, waiting for my curtains to close. A slave.... An actor.... Noth-

ing more than garbage.

**"Go talk to a counsellor."** The most common reply that one could give; the

one I HATED hearing the most.

**"Think about your family."** But I'm nothing but trouble.

_34_

**"Behave yourself!"** AM I NOT BEHAVING ENOUGH?

Why can't you guys understand that I'm already trying my best?

**"How did we raise a child like this?" a familiar voice sounded behind**

## **me.**

I just want to rest. I never want to wake up again.

Ahh, my heart feels like it's freezing and my mind just feels blank. What

am I supposed to do with how things are right now? I don't want to keep

living up to people's expectations anymore and I don't feel like voicing out

anymore. The voice in my head keeps getting louder and louder, increas-

ingly becoming more prominent in how I think. I have no goal. I truly hate

God for creating me. I never asked to be created. I don't care about entering

Paradise or suffering in Hellfire. I just don't want to exist anymore.

He appeared once more.

**"So why not just jump down from a building? Why not let yourself be**

**hit by a car? Or a train? Moving vehicles perhaps? Or you know what**

**would be fun? Going off like how your father did. Now that would be**

**an absolute masterpiece!"**

_35_

"Would you just shut up already?! Shut up and leave me alone! Why do you

even exist? Have you not brought enough pain to me? Is it not enough to

satisfy you and your sick intentions? I've always hated you. The decisions

that I made all this while was because of you. Everything. I am done."

**"Don't you get it? Hating me means that you're hating yourself."**

**"And wouldn't it just be fun for me to see that? The countless number**

**of times I've been watching you torture and torment yourself over all**

**the things that you did on your own?"**

He was holding a knife in his hand and I was holding one in mine as well.

Not only that, there was blood. As I looked up, I saw a dead corpse with

blood all over, dripping from the corners of its mouth and trickling from its

nose. I was frozen and shocked at the sight. My heart was pumping rapidly

but I could still feel it freezing up.

I woke up.

It was just a recurring dream. Since then, I kept having the same dream.

I kept having the thoughts of ending my own life running rampant in my

mind. It felt like this trauma will never stop, that I was seemingly born and

bred only to be mentally abused. But then I remembered my father's words,

the promise that I made.

**"Value your own life."**

_36_

How I hated that promise. It felt like a shackle on my very existence that whenever I came close to ending everything, I couldn't do it. I could never

have the courage to pull it through. I'm just truly utterly useless. I could just

break the promises like how I used to once upon a time. But I don't want to

break anything anymore. I don't want to fight back anymore. I don't want

to care anymore.

Tears kept falling down my cheeks. I can't handle this anymore.

I can't continue living,

Yet I can't bring myself to end it all.

......

Time to stand on the stage and put on your masks.

Dance along with the tragedy and sing along the cries of agony.

Follow the never-ending script that has been laid out for you and YOU

alone.

For you are nothing but a puppet and an actor on this stage play.

Everything is fine.

**No, it's not.**

Everything will get better eventually.

**And will go right back down to Hell again.**

_37_

Our existence is meaningless.

Brought into the world by one brief moment.

Just to tear ourselves apart and vanish in the end.

Breaking down, the stream of tears just wouldn't stop flowing.

"Piece by piece we build up the walls around our heart, thinking we're safe

from the people around us. Hiding and praying that no one would ever find

us, remember us. Just let me die in peace." I cried.

"Sacrificing human emotions for the sake of entertainment, for the sake of

indulging in the suffering of others. Even if we were to die nothing would

matter. One of the billions of people on this planet could easily replace my

existence."

"Don't think that way you said. Your existence surely has its own meaning"

But, masks we wear to please others, will one day be exposed. Slowly, but

surely.

If what we do to protect ourselves is considered as 'right', I would rather

stay in the 'wrong'

**"END IT, YOU WEAKLING"**

**"SPINELESS COWARD"**

_38_

Time was stagnant. I could feel the curtains closing on me.

So is this it? All it takes is just one quick second.

I'm tired. I'm exhausted. Just done living up to people's expectations.

Please, don't back down now.

**"Is this it, could this actually be it?"**

Maybe

**"No backing up now. Come on, don't be shy."**

**"Just one little push"**

All they could say is to 'not think, "don't feel", "stop overreacting"

All they could do was talk, but none of them could relate.

But I'm just the same, I'm all talk but no action.

It was said that people who are depressed, lacks attention.

Perhaps I did?

I don't even know how it feels like to be appreciated,

So tell me.

Please just tell me.

What does it feel like to be appreciated?

How does it feel like to be paid attention to?

Those were just unnecessary emotions, weren't they?

_39_

So just how could **YOU** possibly relate to **ME**?

**"Exactly."**

AN ATTENTION SEEKER? ME?

WELL IT SEEMS LIKE IT'S YOU GUYS WHO HAD TOO MUCH AT-

TENTION TO UNDERSTAND.

I'M JUST TOO TIRED OF LIVING TO EVEN LISTEN TO YOU GUYS

ANYMORE.

**"They will never get it."**

In the end, all I could do is to fake my feelings.

......

Music is supposed to be the remedy of the soul.

A comforting factor for those who are weary.

But it sounded so bland, no resonation, no emotion, nothing.

Chinese songs, Malay songs, English songs - I've heard it all.

In the end, it never helped.

Is there anything left that could save me?

Give me the refuge I need from these emotions.

_40_

Save me from this cruel world and the harsh reality of existing.

Provide me comfort in this seemingly empty heart of mine.

Religion never gave me much hope,

All it gave me was just doubts and unanswered questions.

A reason for my anger to only grow towards the Creator and the world.

A reason to hate my existence even more.

Putting on the final act itself,

Stumbling across the stage which I thought was my last one ever,

And that was when I found something that intrigued me,

The Japanese culture.

Their way of living captured my curiosity.

The way they appreciated all the things that are around them was intriguing

to me.

The Japanese animations that sparked my interest,

Their music.

For some reason, it gave me a reason to hold on.

Even if it's just a little bit more.

Just ... a little.

I wonder, why?

Their appreciation of the nature that is around them.

_41_

Their practice of kintsugi,

In which they repair broken pottery by filling the cracks with gold,

Showing people with pride in its history,

Not hiding any of its flaws or imperfection.

These were one of the few things that intrigued me.

I never really had any interest of my own.

I was always told to follow the crowd.

Nothing ever interests me but this.

Animation has sparked something within me.

I was attached to animating itself and I immediately knew,

it was something that I wanted to do.

The music that I listened to seemingly resonated with my feelings.

It was all relating to life,

How we were all brought to life without a proper reason,

The terrible life of living up to society's expectation,

Feelings that were given to us that were temporary,

Anger, sadness, happiness, everything.

It's as if I could take off my mask for even a little bit.

The bit of comfort that I wanted.

The passion that ignited within me towards their language,

It was unlike all the others that I have learnt until now.

Difficult as it may be, it never stopped me in my tracks.

_42_

For the first time in my life,

I have a sense of purpose in life — a goal.

A life that felt lost where I felt so cold in, had just gained a tiny flame.

It felt soothing.

But I just don't know where this is going. If having this hope will even ben-

efit me.

My reason to live continue slowly grew because of the spark of hope and

curiosity that was lit up inside my heart. A tinge of warmth, as if I had start-

ed to find a reason to be.

A year has passed by since I committed myself into the cultural ways of the

Japanese.

I closed my eyes, seeing him one last time.

**"So that's how it goes, even after what had happened, you STILL want**

**to live on?"**

"It's just that I may have found my purpose. Even if I can't get rid of my

guilt, I have to move on nonetheless."

**"What about me then? You can't get rid of me and you know that."**

"I don't have to."

_43_

**"But didn't you say that you hated me?"**

"Perhaps. But I have reasons not to now. And it's time for me to go."

**"..."**

I opened my eyes again, staring out into the clear blue sky through the win-

dow.

"This is it..."

The words that came out from my mouth.

**"Good for you"**

Perhaps this would be the last time I ever hear from him,

We will never know.

_44_

_An Act Of Love_

In a split second, Evelyn's world burned into ash and blew into oblivion.

The deafening silence and numbness of her emotions made her feel trapped

in a corpse. Life felt as though she was dragging dead bodies along a street

of sticky, hot, black tar. She needed to be a hero to survive this, but sadly

a lost one currently. Evelyn's mind was overflowing with questions. What

did she do to make him do that? He was supposed to be the love of her life

till the end of time. He was the one. She couldn't answer and she definitely

couldn't deny that it hurt. Confused and hopeless. "Was he that sick of me?"

She started to worry about her 6-year-old son, Kayden's, future. A bunch

of questions appeared in her mind. Loud questions clouded her along with

anxiety. "Hints were everywhere. How did I not see them...". The synchro-

nization of harmonies and melodies was great between them but Evelyn

was too blinded to realise that it slowly faded over the years. Their con-

versations became shorter and more brief. She felt like she lost everything.

Love, loyalty, time, youth and life.

It's raining, the raindrops on the old rooftop making a stress-releasing sound.

The trees are dancing with the pure strength of the wind, being a protective

shelter for the birds. Evelyn always loved the rain. "Pak!" The auto gate

opens slowly and shakily, Evelyn drives into the car porch. "Pak!" The door

closes itself. She walks out from the car, tired and sleepy, carrying her back-

pack full of documents. Kayden climbs out from the car as well, with his

tiny backpack and walks towards the main door. "Beep. Beep," the car locks

_45_

with just a click. The silence and blankness of the living room feel like a haunted house, thick layers of dust covered the shelves as Evelyn and her

husband, Mike worked so hard. Evelyn works as a secretary in a publishing

company while Mike is an accountant. The old and shabby kitchen and re-

frigerator are probably full of expired goods. Floors are dusty, furniture is

old-fashioned, curtains are faded. It's an old double-story house located in

the city of Kuala Lumpur. "Kayden! Go PomPom first," she tiredly calls out

to her 6-years-old son. The stairs made of mahogany wood made squeaking

noises whenever anyone stepped on them. He runs upstairs and goes into

the bathroom excitedly. A warm bath would be perfect for the rainy day.

Evelyn was exhausted after handling mountains of her boss's schedule and

calls, she needs a whole week's of sleep. Evelyn knew her little rascal of a

son would take forever to shower as he loves blowing bubbles, so she leaves

him be. She knew she taught him well to get ready before bed. Kayden dries

himself with a clean towel after his playtime in the shower and digs through

the unfolded pile of clothes for his favourite blue power rangers pyjamas

and puts them on.

Dirty clothes are piling up in the basket. As she moves and puts all the

clothes into the washing machine, a photo strip that looks like it was taken

in a photobooth accidentally dropped out from her husband's slacks. She

froze. It was four joined photos of Mike and another woman, smiling and

kissing.

She looked younger, prettier, excitement and life in her eyes. Everything

feels so abrupt like a bomb threat. Evelyn's heart dropped to her feet, shat

_46_

tering into a million pieces. She doesn't seem to pick the photo strip up or even believe it. Anger, confusion, sadness, and disappointment rushed into

her entire being. Everything feels so complicated. She needs to talk to him

face-to-face.

Still in her trance, "Pak!" The auto gate opens once again. He's back. She

walks into the living room and sits on the couch, placing the photo strip on

the coffee table with a solemn face. Her seriousness and rage are forming a

formidable atmosphere. The man she trusted and sadly still loves steps into

the house, with a poker face and looks at her uncertainty. The silence of the

living room feels like a gap between both of them. "What's the matter? You

look angry," he breaks the silence first. She stays silent and stares at the

photo strip on the table. His eyes hesitantly follow her gaze of rage and bro-

kenness. It was the photo strip from the carnival that he took Angela. The

woman he has been seeing for the past few months. As much as it was ex-

hilarating and alive to be with her, he knew deep down that it was wrong. A

tsunami of guilt swarms him and he quickly kneels down in front of Evelyn.

" I....... Look, it was just a few months. I'm sorry. I love you. I still love

you. I do," Mike stares at his wife with such pleading eyes, looking up at

Evelyn and quickly grabs ahold of both her hands. She doesn't look at him

but reality hits her like a truck as this means, Mike really is cheating on

her. There was no excuse for this. It is true. How ironic that he says "I do".

In Evelyn's life, the only time she ever felt fulfilled was when he said that

during their wedding vows. Now, like never in her life before, she feels the

unimaginable void he forced upon her soul, he says "I do". He brought life

_47_

into her like no one ever could but now, she sees him take that away like she never meant anything to him.

The sound of thunder boomed and echoed throughout the house, as Evelyn

feel the first tear escape her left eye as she blinked and she could feel her

heart being squeezed like a twisted cloth. She stood up, weakly pulled her

hands away from his and walked upstairs. Stopping midway, she gathers

all her might and mutters, "Get out" and continues up the stairs. She's lost,

feeling like she has nowhere to go. Her heart is shattered into a million piec-

es. She needs someone, a person she trusts and can tell this to. She needs her

dad. She has no friends to talk to as she spends all her time earning money

rather than having a social life and Mike is the only friend she has or had.

She's vexed, whether to give up or keep the marriage for Kayden. How

could she ever tell Kayden what his father has done? Kayden looked up to

Mike, he loves him like no other, maybe even more than her. Worries and

hesitations start to emerge in her mind, for the sake of Kayden. She loved

her son too much to destroy his world.

Evelyn hears the sound of keys opening the front door. He's leaving. Evelyn

was glad she doesn't need to face him but deep down she hoped he would

come after her. She hated herself for feeling so.

"Baby, let's go to see Grandpa and Grandma in the early morning. Mummy

misses them." Evelyn, on the verge of tears, attempts to utter these words

to her beloved son who was getting ready for bed, trying to hold in the pain

_48_

The sound of thunder boomed and echoed throughout the house, as Evelyn

feel the first tear escape her left eye as she blinked and she could feel her

heart being squeezed like a twisted cloth. She stood up, weakly pulled her

hands away from his and walked upstairs. Stopping midway, she gathers

all her might and mutters, "Get out" and continues up the stairs. She's lost,

feeling like she has nowhere to go. Her heart is shattered into a million piec-

es. She needs someone, a person she trusts and can tell this to. She needs her

dad. She has no friends to talk to as she spends all her time earning money

rather than having a social life and Mike is the only friend she has or had.

She's vexed, whether to give up or keep the marriage for Kayden. How

could she ever tell Kayden what his father has done? Kayden looked up to

Mike, he loves him like no other, maybe even more than her. Worries and

hesitations start to emerge in her mind, for the sake of Kayden. She loved

her son too much to destroy his world.

Evelyn hears the sound of keys opening the front door. He's leaving. Evelyn

was glad she doesn't need to face him but deep down she hoped he would

come after her. She hated herself for feeling so.

"Baby, let's go to see Grandpa and Grandma in the early morning. Mummy

misses them." Evelyn, on the verge of tears, attempts to utter these words

to her beloved son who was getting ready for bed, trying to hold in the pain

from the recently witnessed betrayal. Kayden was confused but happy to

skip school. He doesn't question as he squeals excitedly.

_49_

Destroyed, Evelyn packs her things along with her son's so they can leave

first thing in the morning to hit the road back to her hometown, Kemaman.

She feels like she's running on auto-pilot as she packs a few days of clothes

and some necessities before going into Kayden's room to sleep with him

tonight.

The next morning as they leave KL, she makes a quick pit stop to her fre-

quently visited florist, Nina, and picks out a beautiful bouquet of flowers for

her dad back home. Usually, she orders a bouquet of roses and gets them

delivered back once in a blue moon as a reminder of her love for him. Her

father always loved roses because he thinks it resembles Evelyn, beautiful

but deadly. Evelyn is far away from home and is always too busy to travel

back to her hometown to visit him but as of today, she will finally be deliv-

ering them to her dad personally. After the purchase of the flowers, she gets

in her vehicle and starts her journey right away. During her 3-and-a-half-

hour drive, her subconscious starts to zone out as she reminisces about her

childhood days.

Evelyn is the oldest child of Mr and Mrs Chin, among seven siblings. Being

the oldest sibling, she did not exactly have the best childhood, to begin with.

She grew up having immense pressure and responsibilities shoved to her by

her mother. Her father, on the other hand, was always so nice to her. When

she was growing up, Evelyn was spoilt by her father, as he would constantly

shower her with gifts and lots of love.

_50_

_"Dad, can I please have these colour pencils please?"_

_"Anything you want, my dear. It's all yours."_

_Although, Evelyn always ended up in arguments with her mother._

_"What a waste of money. Did you not get one last year? Stick with it!"_

_"But mum, pleaseeeee I-I-I..."_

Her father, being the person who had always given her everything she had

wanted, whether it be ample cuddles, showing his unconditional affection to

her all the time, or even just listening to what she has to say all the time in-

stead of being biased towards her younger siblings. Her mother, on the oth-

er hand, was always mean and just like a broken recorder, constantly nags

and repeats the same things again and again and was always bias towards

her younger siblings. She always forced Evelyn to take care of her siblings,

even when she was quite young. Growing up, Evelyn never had a life of her

own and constantly doubted herself, as well as whether she was really loved

by her mother, or not.

_"Why are you so lazy?"_

_"You are the oldest sibling! Why aren't you helpful even one bit?"_

_51_

_"Why are you like this? Is this how I trained you to be?"_

_"Why are you so stupid?"_

_"Why do I have a child like you?"_

_"Can't you at least do one thing right? Have I ever asked a lot from you?"_

All these times, she could only recollect her father always standing up for

her when she was belittled and picked on by her mother. Her father always

treated her like a princess, and this is the exact reason why she had a soft

spot for her father. She looked up to him and loved him like no other. As

time passed, she even started to despise her mother. To Evelyn, her mother

was just her birth giver. She gave Evelyn the chance to be on this earth, a

roof, food on the table and she is grateful. However, that is all and that is all

it will ever be. Evelyn's relationship with her mother was nothing but toxic.

Evelyn was always very insecure and had zero confidence, self-worth and

self-esteem when she was a little kid. She couldn't stay in the same room as

her mother for longer than 10 minutes. She never strikes up conversations

with her mother, she always walked with her head down and eyes fixed on

the ground.

When those old thoughts and memories hit her, crystal tears started to form

in her eyes, blurring her vision during her long journey heading back to her

_52_

hometown of Kemaman. Everything she had recalled, trying to find at least

a single drop of care from her mother, seemed to be in vain. She could not

remember even one memory of her childhood where her mom would be

supportive of her, because she never had a caring mother figure in her entire

childhood. All she remembers is having her mother as a "dragon lady", all

of this just because she is the oldest child in the family.

Especially the incident that she had to face that once, which remained as

trauma to her life until this day...

Evelyn felt the icy cold and emotionless sting on her left cheek as her head

was thrown to the side. She blinks twice trying to comprehend what had just

happened yet found it funny as to why was she surprised. Her mother's red

handprint on her cheek would have formed by now.

"YOU ARE SUCH A USELESS DAUGHTER! CAN'T YOU HELP JUST

A LITTLE? YOU ARE A DISGRACE! I WISH I HADN'T GIVE BIRTH

TO YOU."

Those sharp words cut her heart deeply. Deeper than any black hole in the

universe. Evelyn's thin, frail body froze, her mind going blank by the sec-

ond. Her tears streaming like there is no tomorrow as her throat ached.

Words imploring to crawl out of her mouth felt like the stabbing of a knife,

wanting to escape this tunnel of hell. At that moment in Evelyn's life, she

has never felt more enraged and helpless before in her entire existence. The

hatred she had towards her mom was built to a point she could have never

_53_

expected in her life to hate someone this bad, that too is her own mother, her own flesh and blood. The person who was supposed to be the person she

could always go to at any time of the day, for the warmth that she had never

received from.

Fast forwarded to the moment she reached the age of 18. Evelyn remem-

bered packing her belongings as she could finally leave home to further her

studies in KL. She bethought the moment of happiness as she was able to

escape the torture of being around her mother but at the same time was heart

ached that she had to leave the one person who actually loved her, her father.

Just as she was about to leave the house, her mother had handed her an en-

velope consisting a decent amount of allowance in order for her to survive

and manage herself when she is away from home to further her studies.

Moving to KL, the whole process of it was surprisingly easier than expect-

ed. Since Evelyn had been responsible from a young age by guiding her six

other siblings and constantly getting scolded by her mother for apparently

not being responsible enough made this move a smooth one.

At that moment, she felt blessed that her annoying mother was able to some-

how help with something that was sort of useful. Although, this small bene-

fit that she had gotten from the years of torture definitely did not change the

fact that she still hated her mother and did not wish to be associated with

her anymore. Evelyn's mother hurt her in ways no child should have to go

through. It may not have been physical abuse but she wished it was because

no one could see or save her from the pain of emotional abuse her mother

_54_

has endorsed on her all these years.

In a blink of an eye, days, months and years flew by and Evelyn had final-

ly stepped into the working world as an adult. During then, she fell in love

with an absolutely charming stranger who sat across her daily in her favou-

rite coffee shop. The stranger whom she then pronounced as the love of her

life. He was tall, handsome, had a very alluring personality. When he first

lured her into his embrace, it felt like even if the world was in danger and

was about to collapse, she was protected by him and it felt like the best thing

that has ever happened in her life. He treated her like a queen, his lifelong

partner until the end of their good days. After being happily married, Eve-

lyn wholeheartedly believed everything was going to turn out fine until the

reality of life hit her harder than a firetruck would. Thinking about the past

as Evelyn drove on the chilly, empty highway, it took her long to realise her

eyes were overflowing with the uncontrolled tears of waterfalls.

"Mummy, why are you crying?," Kayden's sweet voice doesn't just break

the silence but also breaks Evelyn out her trance of flashbacks.

A sudden wave of nostalgia hits Evelyn when she entered the border of Ke-

maman and while making each familiar turn. It's been a while since she saw

these shop lots, these road signs and unique designed street lamps. Though

she was giddy with excitement, it was also difficult to ignore the sadness at

the pit of her stomach. The brokenness she felt was deeply rooted in her that

nothing could make her feel better at that moment.

_55_

Evelyn stops at a gas station ten minutes away from home and guides Kayden to the restroom. He's growing so fast. Too fast in fact. He didn't want his

mother to follow him in and insists he's capable of doing things by himself

now.

The petrichor emanating from the green grass surrounding her greets her.

Immediately she feels calm, she takes in a few deep breaths. Kayden comes

out quicker than expected and takes his mother's hand as they amble their

way back to the car.

Evelyn's heart pounds as she pulls up in front of the house and gathers all

their belongings. With Kayden's and her luggage in one hand and the beau-

tiful bouquet for her father in another, she calls out to Kayden to ring the

doorbell next of the all too familiar faded light blue gated house. Evelyn

didn't have the keys with her and she didn't inform both her parents upon

the spontaneous visit.

I guess it'll be a surprise then. Just hopefully, not a bad one. Kayden jumps

and presses the doorbell and a few seconds later, she sees a dishevelled

white-haired man peek out from behind the door.

"Pa!" she shouts, hoping he would recognise her voice.

Evelyn sees him squint his eyes a bit before calling her back with an "Oi."

He disappears for a bit and comes back with the keys in his hands. He push-

es the gate open in excitement and rushes to put on his sandals. Evelyn be

_56_

ing afraid he'll fall tells him to slow down.

"What are you doing here? No work meh?" he excitedly asks her as he rush-

es towards the front gate and unlocks it.

"I came to surprise you la," she teases him, her smile wide but was hidden

with sadness she couldn't hide.

He steps out to help her with her bags and proceeds to ask her why she had

brought along so many things, how long was she going to be here, why and

it goes on. Evelyn didn't even get a chance to answer him as questions line

up.

"Eh! Evelyn and Kayden are here!," Evelyn's dad yelled out to her mom,

his voice booming with excitement.

"Ah? What now! I told you not to yell at me from the living room right, I

can't hear...," she stops mid-sentence at the sight of Evelyn standing at the

front door.

"Evelyn, what are you doing here? Where's Mike? Doesn't Kayden have

school?," she looks at Evelyn up and down with a frown on her face. An-

ger is boiling inside of Evelyn. "What a warm welcome," Evelyn thought.

Evelyn came all the way there and the first thing she was greeted with are

questions about why her cheater of a husband is not there with her.

_57_

Evelyn was about to answer her back but takes deep breaths. She's older

now. She should have expected her mother to react this way. Evelyn tells

Kayden to help bring their bags to the room. He tries to be macho and puffs

up with chest to carry all of them at once. Evelyn couldn't help but smile at

her little rascal.

"She just came all the way here, stop complaining lah. Your own daughter

comes to visit you, be nice lah," Evelyn's dad voices out once Kayden is out

of sight.

"No, I'm just asking her where her family is, is it so wrong? Haiya! Chi sin

yen!" she grumbles and stalks off back into the kitchen.

"You know lah your mother, always like that," Evelyn's dad patted her on

the shoulder and gave her a smile. "Why don't you go put your things in

your room first and freshen up." She smiles back at him and suddenly re-

membered the flowers in her hand, "Oh pa, this is for you. I missed you."

Evelyn's father smiles widely as he took the flowers and thank her. "It's

beautiful, baby. You didn't have to. Next time keep the money for yourself

please," He places the flower in a vase before sitting on his bamboo chair to

continue with his newspaper.

Evelyn decided that she could do the unpacking and freshening up later. She

needed to talk to her father first. She takes a seat on the old sofa beside his

chair and her father looks up from his newspaper.

_58_

"Pa...," she starts off, nervously, picking at her nails.

"Yes, baby?," He continues to stare down at her but she didn't know how

to start. How does one tell their dad that their husband's cheating on them?

Where does one even start?

Evelyn's dad must have noticed she was struggling to tell him something

because when she looked up, he had his papers folded in his lap and his

glasses taken off.

"Ermm...," Evelyn pauses. "Mike's cheating on me," she blurts out, feeling

the lump in her throat and trying to swallow it down. "I found pictures of him

and......," She could not mutter out the words as she feels her nose stinging

and her eyes tearing up. The last thing she wanted to do was cry. She has

done enough crying for the past hour. "Oh honey," he gently stretches both

arms out and pulls her head close to his chest to give her a hug. She feels so

safe as she didn't want him to pull away. But he did.

"I...," he stutters then he sighs. "I'm not the one you should be looking

for. Go talk to your mom, she'll be a better help to you." He looks down at

his paper dismissing her quickly. She was surprised. "Has he changed that

much? Is he mad that I haven't visited him for a long time?" Evelyn was

confused as she thought.

Speechless, Evelyn gets up and cautiously walks over to the kitchen where

her mom is busy preparing lunch. Evelyn could smell the strong and nostal

_59_

gic aroma of her mother's famous Asam fish steaming. She missed the spicy

and soft meat of her mother's Asam fish, it was her favourite. Her mother is

by the sink, cutting up some tomatoes and potatoes.

"Mee," She calls out softly. She didn't want to startle her mother. "Can I talk

to you? I...... uh...... need to ask you something. That's why I came......

without Mike."

Evelyn's mother continues cutting the vegetables while asks, " Ya, what?"

Evelyn nervously went over to the dining table to sit.

"Mike is....... seeing someone else. I caught him. I uh....... pa asked me to

talk to you," Evelyn blurts out with all her might.

Her mother immediately stops moving the knife as she froze. She did not

move for a good 5 seconds. Evelyn started to panic and was on the verge of

tears. She knew talking to her mother would not help, it would only make

things worse. Her mother will end up blaming her for not doing enough that

made Mike cheat on her. Evelyn knew too well yet she hoped anyway. She

felt so stupid for approaching her mother, she thought she learned better

growing up.

Her mother turned to face her and to her surprise, it was the first time in

her entire life that she saw her mother's face soften. Her mother looked at

Evelyn with such painful eyes as she let out a sigh. She takes a seat next to

Evelyn while her left-hand presses against her pelvis area, the overwork

_60_

during her younger days definitely got to her.

Her mother sighs as she replies, " Haih...... I know you may feel like your

whole world is ending now but think about Kayden. Focus on the good

things you have in life right this moment. It will help you get through this.

It's okay if you want to divorce or you want to give him another chance. No

need to think so much now. Stay here for however long you want okay?"

Dumbfounded, Evelyn stares at her mother distraught, confused and defi-

nitely speechless. It was the first time in her life that her mother felt more

like a friend than just her biological mother. But why?

Evelyn has never experienced her mother being so understanding, caring

and maybe even relatable. Her mother was the most cold-hearted human

being she has ever met but here she is, opening up to her. Evelyn started to

question herself as she connected the dots. She blurted out, "Pa cheated on

you, is it?"

Evelyn's face is plastered with question marks. Her mother looks aghast and

beaten as she answers, " I know how it feels. I was you. When you were 6,

your aunt told me she saw him with another woman walking into the hotel

but he told me he was at work."

Evelyn stares at her mother and as for the first time in her life, she sees her

mother as a woman who has been working her life off to raise seven chil-

dren, never failing to put food on the table for nine people three times a day,

_61_

keeping the house spotless clean, and most importantly continuing to stay in the family for her kids even as she knew her husband found someone better

outside. Her mother suddenly felt like a hero to her.

"I never wanted you to know because I knew how much you look up to

your father and how much you love him. I didn't want you to see him dif-

ferent. He is still a good man lah..... I know it is very painful but you can

get through this. You're a strong Lui. I believe in you."

So, her mother wasn't heartless after all and she actually loves her. "How

did I not see it......," Evelyn thought to herself.

_62_

_Bros Before Hoes_

"Where the hell have you been ah? I've been calling you for days!" Shawn

raised his voice at Chin Jian.

-BEEP- "The person you're calling is unavailable. Please leave a message

after the beep." -BEEP- "Uh... Chin Jian... It's Shawn. Again. Where did

you go? I've been trying to contact you for so long already..." Shawn sighs.

"Just call me back okay... I need your help. Bye." Shawn hung up the phone.

It had been days since he had tried to contact Chin Jian, his childhood best

friend. Shawn was confused as to his whereabouts and why he was ignoring

his calls. That was until he bumped into him while he was walking past a

quiet alleyway in Petaling Street.

"Oh, uh, Shawn..." Chin Jian's eyes widened and said nervously. "W-What

are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Where have YOU been ah? I called you so many

times and you never answered any of my calls," Shawn raised his voice at

him. Chin Jian was in utter silence as he did not know how to respond.

Shawn sighed and said "Nevermind lah, I need your help. I'm broke now so

can you lend me some money, please? I'll pay you back, don't worry."

_63_

Chin Jian laughed sarcastically. "Uhm... No..." he said.

Shawn was taken aback at his reply and said, "Huh? What do you mean?

I've helped you so many times with your rent, you can't help me this one

time?"

Chin Jian rolled his eyes. "Why would I even want to help you? It won't

benefit me also," he said selfishly.

Shawn could not believe what he had just heard and his jaw tightened. "You

serious?" he huffed. "Aren't friends supposed to help each other? Why are

you being so selfish I-"

"You know what ah? I've had enough of this bullshit. I've had enough of

YOUR bullshit", Chin Jian interrupted as he wanted to avoid Shawn's nev-

er-ending questions.

Shawn's forehead furrowed and his brows knitted. "Eh, where is all of this

coming from? I've been nothing but nice to you okay."

"Please lah you're only nice to me 'cause Rebecca broke your tiny little

heart", Chin Jian mockingly said to him and laughed. The name he had

mentioned triggered something in Shawn and it took him back to a year ago

when the break up happened. He remembered everything that happened like

it was yesterday.

_64_

It was their two year anniversary. Shawn was at home and got all snazzed

up for the special occasion. He was looking at himself in the mirror as he

tightened the red tie on top of his silky smooth black button-up shirt that he

had paired with a pair of simple black slacks and some black formal shoes.

The next thing you know he was making his way to Rebecca's apartment.

Humming to the tune of "Best Part" by Daniel Caesar. He had a huge bou-

quet of red roses in one hand and a box filled with all her favourite chocolate

bars in another, wanting to surprise her and take her out for a fancy dinner

to celebrate. Rebecca had given him an extra set of keys to her apartment so

he let himself in. The stuff he was carrying immediately fell from his grip

as soon as he walked through the wooden door frame of her bedroom. His

jaw dropped.

"Babe, who the hell is this?!" Shawn yelled at Rebecca when he saw her

kissing another guy on her bed. He rushed over to the bed and dragged the

guy by his collar and pushed him against the wall.

Rebecca wailed, "No, Shawn! Don't! Let him go!"

Shawn pulled the guy's collar even tighter and said to him, "You better get

out of here now and never come back before I whack the shit out of you."

The guy scrambled away from Shawn after he let go of his collar, quickly

gathered his stuff and ran out the door.

"Shit, Shawn. Was that really necessary? You need to chill, oh my gosh,"

said Rebecca as she rolled her eyes while plopping onto her bed and going

_65_

on her phone.

Shawn put his hand to his forehead and started rubbing it as though he was

having a headache. He looked at her with disbelief and said, "Really Re-

becca? That's all you have to say ah? Is there nothing you want to explain?"

She looked up at him from her phone and shrugged.

"Wow, I can't believe you would do this to me. ON OUR ANNIVERSA-

RY!" You could hear the anger in his voice. A tear coursed down his cheek

but he immediately wiped it off with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Oh grow up, Shawn," Rebecca grunted. "Things happen. People change

and they move on," she said and continued going on her phone pretending

as though what happened wasn't a big deal at all.

Shawn said to her, "You know what, you're right. We're..." He paused for a

second. He didn't want to say it but he knew that it was for the best. "Done,"

he said to her. Shawn turned his back and left. He could hear the faint sound

of Rebecca calling out for him as he left her apartment. As much as he want-

ed to turn around and go back to her, he continued walking and didn't look

back.

He had been depressed ever since that night. He locked himself in his apart-

ment and would never leave the house. No matter how mad he was at Re-

becca for cheating on him, he was heartbroken that he had lost his lover.

Their breakup was the worst thing that has ever happened to him and it led

_66_

him to one of the darkest moments in life, moments he never thought he

would ever have to go through.

"Helloooo... Oi Shawn..." A faint familiar voice said, interrupting his mem-

ory and he snapped back to reality.

"I'm not done talking okay," Chin Jian said as he waved and snapped his

fingers in Shawn's face. Shawn raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I'm not

giving you any money so get lost please," said Chin Jian as he turned his

back and was about to leave.

"Eh, wait!" Shawn said as he grabbed him by the shoulder. Chin Jian stopped

and turn. You could tell by the look on his face that he was annoyed but still

had a little more patience left to hear what Shawn had to say.

Shawn said to him, "I gave you money for your rent awhile ago right? Just

give that money back to me then I'll go."

"Uh... that money ah..." Chin Jian slurred his words. "It's all gone," he

shrugged as he tugged on the strap of his sling bag.

Shawn was struck with confusion and said, "W-What do you mean it's all

gone? I gave it to you like a week ago and your rent is not even due yet so

how is it gone?!"

"Actually ah..." said Chin Jian as he awkwardly laughed while scratching

_67_

his head. "I never needed money for rent..." Shawn still had a blank look on his face. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, indicating Chin Jian to

explain himself.

"I moved back in with my parents already," he said.

Shawn raised his voice at him, "SINCE WHEN?!" Shawn was so mad that

you could see the fire in his eyes as he was fuming with anger. You could

feel the tension in the air.

Chin Jian put his finger under his chin and thought to himself. "Hmm... Like

3 months ago," he said and a sly smile formed on his face.

Shawn's body became even more tense, his hands started balling up into a

fist but he did not want to make a scene as they were out in public. He took

a deep breath and he loosened his grip. You could see deep fingernail marks

on the surface of his palm because of how tight he gripped his fist.

"If you moved back in with your parents already then why did you still ask

me for money?" Shawn asked in a stern voice.

Chin Jian slowly circled around Shawn and said to him, "I don't know...

Maybe I bought things that I liked lah."

"Don't be so annoying can ah? What the hell did you spend my money on?"

Shawn grabbed Chin Jian by the arm, stopping his movement and took one

_68_

step closer to him.

Slight fear dawned upon Chin Jian's face. "Okay okay," he said as he put

his hands up like he was surrendering himself to the police. "I bought drugs

and alcohol," he said under his breath.

"You talking to yourself or what? Talk louder lah!" Shawn yelled.

"I spent the money on drugs and alcohol lah, okay!?" Chin Jian yelled back

but immediately looked around him to make sure no one heard him mention

the word "drugs".

Veins were popping out on Shawn's forehead. He was furious. "Are you

freaking kidding me ah, Chin Jian? How selfish could you be huh? Using

MY hard-earned money to buy shit like that. Honestly, I wouldn't mind if

you used the money to help your family but drugs and booze? Really? I

can't believe you would stoop this low. How could you-"

Chin Jian laughed. "Me? Stoop this low? Didn't you have a little experi-

ment with drugs and alcohol after your breakup also?" he said.

Shawn's mind took him back to the period of time after his breakup with

Rebecca. He locked himself in. He closed every single curtain in his home,

not letting a single spot of light in, wanting to be alone in complete dark-

ness. He was so depressed to the point where he barely ate and showered.

However, Shawn wasn't always like this.

_69_

Before the breakup, Shawn was a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. You would

never see him without a smile on his face. People loved being around him as

he had such a charming and friendly personality. People smiled and waved

at him everywhere he went. If you had met Shawn, you would think he was

a walking bowl of sunshine but sadly, that all disappeared after the breakup.

All he could think about was Rebecca and the great chemistry they had to-

gether. All the history and memories turned to shit. He started going through

all of the photos they took together, one by one he lit them on fire with a

lighter and they soon turned to ashes. Tears started streaming down his face

as the photos brought back a lot of memories, but he knew that he had to

get rid of anything that tied back to their relationship. He had to get rid of

everything that reminded him of her. He thought that by doing so, he'll be

able to move on. However, he still felt empty inside. Together with that,

even though he got rid of all the physical things, the memories they made

together still lingered in his head. As much as he tried to get her out of his

head, he couldn't because he still had feelings for her. He was heartbroken

and alone. His depression had gotten so bad that he turned to drugs and al-

cohol in hopes to make him feel better but it had only made things worse as

he started to get addicted to it.

Until one day, his friends, including Chin Jian, heard the news and came to

visit to try and cheer him up. They noticed that Shawn had lost some weight

because he hadn't been eating properly so they made sure that he ate well

and even stayed the night to keep him company. By spending time with his

_70_

friends, Shawn was distracted and he stopped turning to drugs and alcohol.

Slowly but surely, Chin Jian and his friends managed to help get his life

back on track and got him out of his depressive state. It would take time for

Shawn to get back to his old happy self but at least he was feeling better.

He was so grateful to his friends for being there for him through the darkest

time so he started putting his homies first before anyone else and did what-

ever he could to help them.

"That was a long time ago. I've been sober ever since then, thanks to you..."

Shawn said and looked down at his feet. "What happened to THAT Chin

Jian huh? The one that would always have your back. The one that was al-

ways so caring and-"

"Oh cut the sappy crap lah, Shawn. I stopped giving a shit about you ever

since your breakup with Rebecca," Chin Jian snapped at him.

"B-But I don't understand. You and the guys were there for me the whole

time what-" Shawn said as his lips trembled before being interrupted.

"Yeah lah! After your break up then only you started being nice to us. You

became so naive and fragile so I took advantage of you," Chin Jian said

without even the slightest look of guilt on his face.

Shawn was completely shocked and confused by what he heard. Everything

around him turned blurry and suddenly he was all alone with his thoughts.

"Am I really that naive?" He thought to himself, "Did my best friend really

_71_

just betray me and stole from me?" "Aren't good things supposed to hap-

pen to good people?" "Out of all people, why me?" His mind was spinning

with millions of thoughts and feelings. He was so overwhelmed that he lost

his stability and almost fell back but he managed to catch himself. He felt

as though he was stabbed in the back with a piercing and sharp knife by

his own best friend who he knew since they were practically in diapers. "I

thought we were best friends, Chin Jian? You were like a brother to me... I-I

treated you like family..." he said as his eyes started to water.

`

"Family?" Chin Jian coughed out a laugh. "If you treated me like family

then why did you betray me HUH?" he snapped.

"W-What? I never betrayed you also I-" Shawn was taken aback.

"Rebecca," Chin Jian blurted out.

Shawn's head tilted to the side, his brows drew together.

"You don't remember ah? I had a crush on Rebecca FIRST and you stole her

away from me..." A slight frown formed on Chin Jian's face.

"I-I didn't know, I thought you were over her by then..." Shawn said.

"No! You knew that I still had feelings for her and you still went behind

my back! That's why I took advantage of you. For revenge!" Chin Jian said

angrily.

_72_

"Okay okay, I'm sorry... But other than that I've been nothing but nice to you right? I just don't think I deserved what you did to me over one girl...

After all we've been through..." Sadness took over Shawn's features.

"Aiyo poor Shawn," Chin Jian pretended to frown. "Yeah lah, you were

nice to me. But only AFTER your break up. You always ditched us just to

hang out with her. But now that she broke your heart then only you came

crawling back to us. I'm not gonna lie okay, our friendship did started off

real, but ever since you started dating her our friendship meant nothing to

me," he said. "NOTHING," he emphasised.

After hearing those harsh words, Shawn felt as though another knife stabbed

into his back. All of a sudden, the memories both of them made together

throughout the years came flooding back. Their first day of kindergarten

together. He remembered them playing rock paper scissors in the back of

his mom's car after school because they would always carpool together. The

first time they started crushing on girls in primary school. He recalled that

this one time where they both had a crush on the same girl and they agreed

to not let a girl come in between them and tear their friendship apart because

they knew that their friendship always came first. Not forgetting all those

experiences they had together in high school. Girlfriends, skipping school,

trying cigarettes, alcohol and clubbing, all for the first time. All the times

they hung out, from playing at playgrounds in the evening to hanging out

at the Mamak at midnight. It was as though all those memories were being

played in his head like a montage but it all slowly started to fade away as it

_73_

all meant nothing. Their friendship was nothing but betrayal and deceit.

"So this is how you repay me huh? After all the things I've done for you.

I thought you've changed bro. First, you stole from your brother and now

me. I guess people don't REALLY change after all," Shawn said with dis-

appointment.

Chin Jian eyes went soft for a second and he was shocked by the words

that came out of Shawn's mouth. It felt as though he was guilty about what

he had done but his expression quickly changed. "Well, things happen and

people change," he said with a smirk on his face.

That line. That exact line sounded familiar to Shawn. Where has he heard it

from? He then remembered that Rebecca had said the exact same words to

him before they broke up. "Things happen and people change," her voice

lingered in his head.

"You need to leave.." Shawn said softly under his breath as he looked down

at his feet.

Chin Jian replied, "Huh, what?"

Shawn looked up at him dead in the eyes and yelled, "You need to leave and

I never want to see your face again!"

Chin Jian's eyes widen with disbelief and said, "If anyone should be leaving

_74_

it's you-"

Shawn angrily walked towards Chin Jian, grabbed him by his collar and

pushed him against the wall. "I'll only say this one more time. You better

leave now before I beat you up, and you know very well that I can," he said

to him.

Chin Jian was not phased at all and replied, "You threatening me ah?"

Shawn pushed him against the wall once again. Fear overtook Chin Jian's

face and he nodded his head as fast as a bobblehead. Shawn let go of his

collar and stepped away while Chin Jian adjusted his polo shirt.

"You sure you don't want to see me again ah? I thought you said I was like a

brother to you? You sure you're willing to let all of that go?" Chin Jian said

sarcastically. "Think about it lah Shawn. First, you lost Rebecca and now

you want to lose me too? Who else is left huh?" He pretended to think and

continued, "Oh yeah, that's right. You'll have no one left! You're gonna be

all alone again...and I don't think you would want to go back to your dark

place again, huh, pretty boy?" he snickered.

As much as he wanted to hit Chin Jian because of what an ass he was being,

he knew that he shouldn't because he was trying to rile him up on purpose.

"Yeah don't worry, I'll be just fine without you. I would rather be on my

own than be friends with someone as toxic and shitty as you anyways," he

snapped back at him.

_75_

Chin Jian gasped at his insult. "Okay Shawn, if you say so," he said as he shrugged, "Good luck being on your own lah."

"I don't need it," Shawn snapped back.

Chin Jian nodded and smiled as he bit his lip. "Bye Shawn Daevan, it's been

nice knowing you," he winked.

Shawn mocked a smile and pointed the middle finger at him. Chin Jian

laughed and they both turned their backs and walked away.

It had been days since Shawn's little encounter with Chin Jian, he was still

mind-boggled by what went down. Putting aside his hatred for him, he was

right. Shawn was spiralling back into his dark place again. This time he knew

better not to turn to drugs and alcohol again because of how it made things

worse for him the last time. However, he was depressed again and this time

it was worse than ever. He had lost both his lover and his best friend, the two

people who were once the most important to him in his life. Gone just like

that. Once more, he was all alone and did not know what to do.

As he was walking to his bedroom from the living room, he walked past a

table and he stopped. The table was full of photo frames filled with photos

of him with his family and friends. He picked up a photo frame with a photo

of him and Chin Jian from when they were in high school. "Asshole", he

thought to himself and threw it into the trash can. He looked through all of

_76_

the photo frames one more time. A white photo frame in the back corner of

the table caught his eye so he picked it up. It was a photo of him. He sus-

pected that it was taken by his mother. He had the biggest smile on his face

in that picture. He thought to himself, "Wow. I was so happy back then. I

wish I could turn back time and be my old happy self again." He realized

that it was impossible to turn back time but an epiphany struck him.

Shawn realized that there was no one else in this world that could help bring

back the old him, besides himself. This is because the only person who can

truly help you is yourself. He then decided that he would no longer depend

on others for his happiness. With this, he turned his life around for the better.

He moved on and started putting himself and his feelings first. Protecting

himself from further heartbreak, disappointments and betrayals. Through

these tough times, he had learned that sometimes it's okay to put yourself

first, especially in toxic situations.

_77_

_ear Diary_

_D_

"If you know what's best for me, then just stay out of my life, and my rela-

tionship with my boyfriend. Stop being a damn control freak!"

Those were the words I retorted back at my own mother before slamming

the door right at her face. I frantically locked the door before sliding down

to the ground helplessly.

"Ah, I messed up again, didn't I?" I said to no one in particular as the emo-

tions inside my soul started to swell out in the form of tears. The pain and

the feeling of betrayal that cut me so deep inside. The guilt and regret I

feel for everything that's happening and had already happened torments my

thoughts. It's one of those days I feel like my control over life is slipping

through my fingers again. Everything's a mess, isn't it?

The funny thing is that I got myself into this mess. As much as I want to

blame my mum or my boyfriend or life in general, I know I have no one

else to blame except myself for this predicament. I leaned my head against

the hard wooden door as my brain voluntarily replayed the incident that

happened just this morning, right outside this very room. The very moment

before I slammed the door...

. . . . . .

It was the evening after class. A long day of tiresome groupmate drama,

bucket loads of assignments, bothersome tutorial activities, and long lec

_78_

tures being drilled into my head.

To add salt to the wound, I had to go through a freaking two-hour jam be-

cause of some smartass whose engine apparently died halfway. But all of

this is just the tip of the iceberg because the main issue I'm about to face is

something way worse and it was something I wanted, no need to confront

my mother over.

I pulled into the driveway of one of our houses located in a town known as

Klang. It was just an hour's drive away from the city of Kuala Lumpur. Well,

of course, minus the traffic congestion. My mother grew up in this house, so

it had more of an old school touch on it. The windows were still the glass

Louvre type. You know the ones that have multiple window blades. There

are even those ventilation holes above each window too. But it doesn't have

those wooden stilts and it is made out of bricks, so nothing too traditional

yet not too modern — just nice. The house was rented out to others before

this but now we're staying in it temporarily as my father was posted nearby.

The evening crows flooded the slowly reddening sky as I stepped foot into

the house.

"Ella, look what I've made. Kuih! I tried one of your _Po Po's_ recipes and

this is the result!" said my mum, Geraldine. Her eyes were sparkling with

delight but I was in no mood for that. Not at all. Not getting the kind of

response she expected, she placed the kuih down and came over to me,

limping as always with that annoying worrisome look etched on her face.

"What's wrong Ella?"

_79_

"What's wrong? Oh, I'll tell you what's wrong. You had the nerve to mess

with my relationship with Max. That's what's wrong." I snapped. As quick

as lightning, my mum's expression hardened.

"I did what I had to do. That boy does not deserve you in any way," she said.

"And who are you to determine that?" I retorted back.

"I am your mum. I'm just doing my responsibility to protect you from harm's

way."

"So what? Just because you are my mum, you thought you have the right to

hire a damn private investigator to follow us, to follow him? All to dig dirt

about him and report to his parents? Just to wrench us apart?" I demanded,

losing my patience rapidly.

Before she could say a word, I interjected, "Do you know what you've

done? Now that his mum knows he deals with weed, he is in so much trou-

ble and he blames me for everything. E-VE-RY-THING." I took my phone

out and shoved the screen right at her face, showing her my chat with my

boyfriend, "He wants to break up with me because of all this!"

"That's better! At least now you're safe!"

"Safe from what?" I challenged. "The only danger I face is you! Everything

was perfect before you came into the picture!"

"Then tell me! What is this red mark on your wrist about?" she fumed, grab-

bing my left hand and pulled my long sleeves down revealing my wrist that

_80_

that was sore from an earlier incident. "What are these bruises I see you

coming home with? I know my daughter is clumsy but not to this extent. I

may be busy at times but I am not that blur to the fact that my daughter is

being mistreated!"

I pulled my hand back from her and pushed my sleeves back down, ignoring

the pain I felt in my arms. I kept my head down as I was shaking in rage.

Who does she think she is. Acting all strong and mighty there. Do you think

I don't know that? But he is all I've got! He's the only one that sees me as

me. Not Geraldine Lim's daughter but as me Isabella Chan. He accepted

me. He's all I've got.

Meanwhile, mum was still nagging in the background. "I tried my best to

not meddle in your love life but not this. Once or twice, yeah I can look over

somehow lah. Give him the benefit of the doubt. But this has gone on for

too long! Can't you see the red flags? What has my daughter become? Don't

you have any sense of self-worth? You deserve more than this. Are you that

desperate for love ah? My god, you are just 19. So young and you want to

play with love. You have a long way to go. Why on Earth are you rushing

things?"

I had enough.

"Shut up!" I exploded, seething in anger. "Shut up! You don't understand

a single damn thing. It's easy for you to say la. People flock around and

adore you. But, I don't get that. He was the only one that saw my worth. He

_81_

He was the only one who saw me, as me, and not this girl that lives under

your shadow. He gave me an identity I can live by at my own pace, while

you robbed me of my identity. You know or not because of you I have to live

up to people's _fxcking_ expectations of me since you are the great and power-

ful Geraldine - role model to all youths yadda yadda yadda. I face so many

internal issues because of this shit. But when I try to talk to you about it, all

you do is downplay my problems. You make me seem like this pathetic kid

that makes so much noise for something so small. But he doesn't. He isn't

like the rest. He understands me. He acknowledges me. Yeah sure he loses

his temper once in a while but I deserve that! He is all I have — I love him

and he loves me!"

"Love your head la. That is not love and you know it. That is not a rela-

tionship, Ella. A loving boyfriend would never do this. No one in their right

mind would do this to the one they love," she said slamming her hand on

the table to make her point. She disregarded my statement on her own being

and focused on Max. Classic.

"To hell with what you think relationships are. You're old. From some dino-

saur era. You won't understand how I feel," I fought back.

"I understand it and that's why I'm here to guide you. Stop selling yourself

short for his happiness. I want you to realize that! Grow up and make the

smarter choice," she insisted.

My bitterness with life and everything started to seep into my words like

poison.

_82_

A poison that was aimed at the wrong person in my life. "If I could make

a smarter choice, I would choose to have a better mother. But boohoo I

couldn't choose who I was born from, so I'm stuck with you!"

Silence filled the room. The tension between us was so bad I couldn't take

it anymore. I stormed off to my room avoiding my mum's gaze. Before I

could close the door to my room shut, she appeared in front of me again.

"Ella I want you to understand. I'm just doing what's best for you," she said

with an accusing tone that aggravated me all the more. She's talking as if

she is some big shot that everyone has to listen to because she knows better

while I'm this lesser human being.

I know I should back down but I was too deep in my rage to care. "If you

know what's best for me, then just stay out of my life, and my relationship

with my boyfriend. Stop being a damn control freak!"

"Stupid brain. Stupid memory. Why do you have to replay

. . . . . .

it in my head?

It's already bad enough. I hate you so bad," I sobbed while giving my head

a beating. A beating it deserved for being an ass to its own host. Do I need

a reminder? Yes. But do I want it? No.

I glanced at my phone to see our once loving chats and deep midnight talks,

now stale.

'Please give us a chance' - that was my final text which was ultimately ig

_83_

nored. He has already removed all trace of our relationship on social media too. In a blink of an eye, I was erased so easily. It hurts inside. I hate it. I hate

the pain so much, I channelled it out as anger because that's the only thing I

had control of now. I wanted to get rid of the irritation I feel under my skin,

so in the hurricane of emotions I was in, I trashed everything and anything

that was within my perimeter. Furniture, papers, pictures, books - nothing

escaped me.

I gave myself a cynical laugh as tears overflowed once more. Questioning

my life and feeling frustrated over it, the cupboard near me became my next

new victim. My knuckles burned from all the damage I've caused my room

but I needed this cathartic release. I threw my final punch onto the cupboard

making it tremor from the impact. As a result, something came toppling

down, hitting me dead in the head, snapping me out of my fury.

"That fucking hurts," I scowled, scanning the floor for the culprit. It was a

dusty old box that I guess was sitting on top of the cupboard, left forgotten.

Kinda like me. Its content sprawled out on the floor. Things like old key-

chains, some medals, a few rusty trinkets laid there but there was something

that did not fit in with the other items in the box. It was a dusty worn-out old

book that had a few papers sticking out of it. Curiosity festered inside me,

so I decided to pick it up.

Blowing the layer of dust away, the fonts on the book seemed clearer to me

now. It was a diary.

_84_

There wasn't any lock on it, so I could access its content. I planted myself onto a nearby bean bag which miraculously survived the storm of anger I

conjured up earlier and started to pry into the content of the book. The en-

tries were dated back in the year 1995 and the first entry that was written

was; 

## **9 January**

Dear diary, was it? Mama brought me this diary to record my college life

daily. Said that it'll be a good memory to look back on or something. I'm

like the first in the family to enter college, so they are really, really, really

super proud of me. I can't believe I made it honestly. A scholarship even.

Gosh, I gotta make sure I don't mess up. Time to throw my dark highschool

history behind me and start a new life story!. Stay at the top. I can do this.

So many new things to look forward to. It should be easy. It's just college,

right?

I laughed at the final phrase. Naive naive diary owner. The word college

is like a melting pot of depression, poverty and drama left and right. It'll

seem fine at first but it's the latter part that really kills you. I decided to

just continue reading it, just to see how messed up her college life will

turn out to be later. I'm in a mood to read the life of someone else because

I really don't want to face mine right now.

The diary continues with like a bunch of mundane college stuff. She men-

tioned in one of her entries that she felt accepted for once and that college

life was going great for her. But she was afraid of being exposed as a

_85_

fraud, so she's putting in more effort.

Flipping through the pages, I soon spotted one whose page is just filled

with...doodled hearts? 

## **28 February**

Dear diary, remember how I said before that I sort of caught feelings for my class-

mate, Dickson? I think he likes me back. Because I caught him staring at me from

time to time, he even goes the distance for me. He gave me some very expensive

looking cake too. I mean, who would do that for someone they've just met right if not

for you know what. I'm not reading into this too much right? I can't help but fall for

him because of his cute laugh and the way he treated me. He-

I couldn't bear the cringe so I stopped reading it halfway. I could literally

hear the squealing in the writer just by the text. It gives me shivers through

my spine. Few entries later.... 

## **6 March**

I HAVE A DATE WITH DICKSON.

Ah, a date! Eager to know how it went, I tried to find the page that holds the

deets on the date.

"Aha! Found it," I eureka-ed. 

## **13 March**

I felt like jelly the whole day. Well, first it was because we finished our first exam in

college but also because the first date just felt so magical. He brought me to see my

_86_

first movie in the cinema. Gave me my first arcade experience. We even shared our first kiss. So many firsts today. I never felt so giddy in my life.

"Wait. Never been to a cinema before?" I said, taken aback by this new in-

formation. Was life that bad back then or is it just because her family was

poor? Skipping through the entries again, I landed on; 

## **16 April**

Dear diary, Dickson and I went on a mini getaway for my birthday. I don't know

how to describe it to you. But we saw fireflies at Kuala Selangor and stars in the

sky. I'm just so happy I can't explain it in words very well. I feel he is the one. And

I hope he is because I gave him my first time. Guilty but it felt nice, really nice. I

guess this is our little secret.

She lost her virginity?? Wow, that escalated quickly. I thought people back

then were like nuns and a total prude. That no-sex-before-marriage kind of

people but guess I was wrong.

I noticed the later entries are more thinned out. It wasn't on consecutive

days anymore but rather one entry in a span of two to three days. This

time it was filled with fluff entries - assignments, dates and family life. But

enter June, it started to become dark. Her entries become more doubtful,

confused and lost. 

## **18 June**

Hey, diary. I sort of have a problem. Have you ever feel like your intentionally left

_87_

out? Like all of a sudden, you can't relate to your own boyfriend. I'm sorry I don't smoke and I don't get myself into marijuana. I know his friends sort of don't want

me there because I'm too much of a goody-two-shoes for them. They called me a

dictator because of my bossy tendencies during group assignments. Dickson even

agreed with them! I can't help it okay. I need that CGPA for my scholarship. At

least within that group our mutual friend, Xuet Qi was there to keep me company.

I'm glad she's there for me when my boyfriend is being a bastard nowadays. But I

love him. I just got to continue loving him. Pretend as if nothing is wrong because

he is happy this way with his friends right? I think I lost it, asking a diary for advice

haha.

Relatable. That was the only comment I had. I understood what she was

going through so much. I wonder if this belonged to one of the previous

tenants here because I really want to meet her. I feel like we can get along

well.

The diary soon became sporadic at this point. It was updated biweekly

sometimes even in every three weeks but the entries were getting worri-

some and sad to read. She wasn't treated right, even I could see that. He

was oblivious to her feelings I swear. 

## **16 September**

Diary.... Dickson wanted Xuet Qi to join in our couple hangout session today since

she was nearby. She's my friend too, so I was right not to reject her right? I mean,

the more the merrier right? It aches to see him smile at her sometimes. I mean ...I

shouldn't be controlling and selfish to have Dickson alone. Nothing's wrong, right?

_88_

I'm just being paranoid. They're just close friends...that's all.

What the hell. I mean he even left her alone at an amusement park once

during a group date after that. All because this Xuet Qi girl had a panic

attack and decided to hide herself somewhere. He had the nerve to even

mope about it the day after when they were having a study date. The worst

part was that she said it was okay for him to act this way the whole time!

But somehow...I relate to that because damn, I do that to my own boy-

friend too. Saying okay despite being not okay to avoid conflict with him.

Selling myself short for his happiness, was it? I laughed at myself bitterly.

And just when I thought I couldn't be more infuriated, I went through this

part of the diary. 

## **2 October**

My period is late. Please help me. I don't know what to do. I'm scared. I..I... 

## **3 October**

It's still not here yet. I told Dickson but he just said maybe it's my stress and that I'm freaking out over nothing. Yeah, I think he's right. Yeah. I just...got to calm down.

But what if I. No I mustn't think of that. Happy thoughts. Believe in God. Yeah. Just

stay calm. 

## **4 October**

It still isn't here. I messed up.

_89_

Another four more entries of the same nature, a total of seven days, before her period came.

I know that fear. That irrational yet rational fear. Like you know you took

the precautions but the thought of 'what if' was very haunting. And honestly

what kind of boyfriend is this? His girlfriend was freaking out but he acted

like he couldn't be bothered. He even dared to pick a fight with her later

when she's down, leaving her to hang out with his friends and that other

girl. All in the name of giving her 'space' to chill. Why didn't she just dump

this guy? 

## **11 October**

Shit, I blew up. I messed up. I got so mad I told him that since he always gave me

'space' when I was moody, let's have space. I regret it so much. Why did I say that?

WHY? Please come back. Don't leave me. Take me back, please. 

## **12 October**

He left. He up-ed and left me. He ended things with me. Why? Why? Why? Why?

No. Please no. Come back.

Reading those entries gave me goosebumps. It felt so real. The water stain

marks left on the book, the messy handwriting, the slightly scrunched pag-

es, the dark reddish-brown spots on the page - all evidence of the pain it left

in her heart. A pain that I can resonate with her. All there's left is one final

entry. I took a gulp, turning the page one last time and read it.

_90_

**26 October**

Dear diary. I can't believe it. I got replaced haha by none other than Xuet Qi herself.

Wasn't she...my friend? Just two weeks ago, she was helping me to get over him.

But...she...

He's telling people I freaked out over my period to gain his attention, that I'm guilt-tripping his beloved current girlfriend, that I made him feel unwanted.

Did I do that? I don't know. I honestly don't know. Maybe I did without noticing it.

Was I that bad of a girlfriend? Am I that bad of a person? What did I do to deserve all

of this?

His friends messaged me...said that I was a..a...a female dog who was selfish and

never cared for my own boyfriend. A control freak and a dictator who only cares for

herself. My friends...they believed him too. The looks they gave me earlier....

It's so scary....

Mama found out about my boyfriend too. She's not talking to me. She said she works

hard for me to study and yet I'm playing around with a guy. She said I lost her trust.

I can't take it anymore. Everything's a mess. Life's a mess. Should I take the easy

way out? It hurts. I don't want to feel this way anymore.

I'm such a bother to everyone, aren't I? I should just....

Yeah....

Maybe I should....

No one would miss me either way.

I guess this is the end of Geraldine Lim's life story ha.

_91_

I felt boiling rage at all the accusations thrown to the girl. She was just trying her best. How could they call her that way? But then, I noticed something...

that made my already crashing world, crash some more.

"Geraldine Lim? But...that's my mum's name.... That's impossible. My

mum isn't like this. She's this superwoman that can make the impossible

possible not this...messed up girl....that ended her life," I thought.

I frantically sped through the whole diary again. Not missing a single en-

try this time. This time I picked up the bits and pieces of info that hints the

truth. I searched through the box again too and found pictures of my mum's

look-alike, or rather my mum herself.

Is that why she limps? Because she attempted to...

A knock on the door came jolting me out of my trance.

"Hey Ella, I made your favourite soup. It's best if you could drink it when

it's warm. So come out as soon as possible ya." my mum's voice echoed

into my room.

I tried to reply but my voice just wouldn't come out. All I could do was

stare. Stare at the wooden door in my sight. The only thing that separates

the two of us now.

Oh God! I called her a control freak earlier too...I was no different from

them.

"Ella, I know you're still mad at me. I admit...I may have gone too far. But

_92_

believe me...I just did it to protect you. I... did not want you to get hurt....in any way. But instead, I made you hurt too didn't I?" she said softly. "Do you

know why I named you Isabella? It is because you were my promise to God

to raise you up to the very best I can. A promise to protect you, so that you

don't repeat the same mistakes I did. Mistakes that are hard to undo. I love

you so much Isabella Chan Meng Yao"

Before I knew it, my feet lead me to the door. I opened up the door, jumped

straight right to my mum's unexpected arm and cried. "I'm sorry Ma. I'm

sorry," I apologized over and over again, almost like a prayer.

There wasn't a single reason that I could pinpoint for the tears running down

my cheeks. Maybe it was the leftover pain of losing a boyfriend. Maybe it

was the guilt I had for misunderstanding my mum; for saying things I didn't

mean. Maybe it was for my own pitiful state, for allowing others to deter-

mine my self-worth.

Either or, I cried. I cried everything out, everything I've held on to these

past weeks, past months, past years. All into the warmth comfort around

me, which is my mum as she softly cradled me as if I was her little baby

once more. I feel at home...for once. The thoughts of the diary were left for-

gotten at the foot of my bean bag. The diary that maybe, perhaps salvaged

the broken bond I had with my mother.

"Ma I love you so much. Thank you."

"I love you too, my beloved daughter."

_93_

_irage_

_M_

Round and round goes the damned fan again. The creaking sound of the

blades is really starting to get on my nerves. As I continue to lay in bed, I

look around and see what an impressive mess I've made of my room.

I should probably start cleaning it up, I really seemed to have let myself go.

All my clothes are piling on that poor chair, but I don't have to fold my laun-

dry, I'm just gonna use that Uniqlo shirt again anyways. Ugh... I got booze

all over the sheets again, it's all brown and sticky. Its making the place stink.

I wish she was here, she'd have fixed everything before I even noticed......

nah, I'd definitely notice her nagging.

Getting up, I draw the curtains, letting the harsh sunlight blaze in. A sad at-

tempt to somewhat sanitize the room. Sounds pathetic but hey, at least I'm

doing something. I never enjoyed cleaning but if I keep this up, I'd probably

have to do my laundry soon.

How long have I been awake for? I ask myself as I reach for my phone to

check the time. It's just another sunny Saturday afternoon, except today,

I've decided that I'm going to end my two year relationship with my soon

to be ex girlfriend, Amelia.

Amelia and I met in college. I remember the first time seeing her like it was

just yesterday, we were in different classes but I'd always see her around

_94_

during lunch breaks and I knew I started getting some sort of interest in her.

I found myself just staring at her so many times each day now that it's be-

come really obvious.

There wasn't really an explanation to why I noticed her out of all the other

girls here. She didn't look much different from the rest. I guess she dressed

better? Maybe it's the way she talks to people? Whatever, I know that I want

her and I decided to try and go for her.

Call me a weirdo but all the staring gave me a rough idea of what her reg-

ular day at college was like. She sits away from the rest of the crowd with

the rest of her friends. I like that, makes me feel like she wouldn't want to

get involved with other guys, especially Nathan and John. Those nuts have

enough desperate chicks chasing them down.

This may sound weird but believe me, everyone does it. I told my friend

that Jane from class B kept staring at me during lunch and that it felt like

she wanted to take me home even if it meant I went in the trunk. So, like

the smartass that I am, I convinced them to sit at this spot that was 2 tables

away from 'her'. This gave me the opportunity to learn more about her....

And just stare more.

As the days went by, It became more obvious to my table that there was

another reason for sitting here away from the rest of the fun. I couldn't care

less honestly if they asked. I just wanted to enjoy my view. I noticed that

from the way they were looking at me, It seemed like the apes figured it out.

_95_

"So, who's the lucky girl?" asked my best friend, Jefri.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said with a smirk, knowing ex-

actly what he's talking about.

"Or should I say," A mischievous grin spread across his face as he crossed

his arms and leaned back into the chair, already knowing the reason behind

my actions. "The unlucky girl?" Making the rest of our friends burst out

laughing.

God, I hated them at times like these. Their faces reminded me of the Hye-

na's from the Lion King.

"Yeah, so I like someone. Big deal." I said.

"Of course it's a big deal! You've never liked anyone before!" said my other

friend Tom, louder than he should have.

That statement, for the most part, is true. I've never been too attracted to

anyone before. All of the girls in this college looked more or less the same

to me anyway. However, I started to notice how different she was than the

rest. She wasn't your typical gossip girl, or wannabe Instagram model or

even a nerd. They way she talked to her friends, made me feel weird, but

attracted. YES I KNOW, IT'S WEIRD.

I often studied the situation to see if I could squeeze myself into talking to

her or adjusted the way I looked whenever she looked over. I have my good

sides too, it doesn't just apply to girls. Whenever I showered, I'd think of

things to ask her like pickup lines. You wanna hear one? Of course you do,

" Knock knock, who's there? What, when. What, when, who? Date, Friday

night, You and me." I'm a poet aren't I?

_96_

The perfect opportunity finally came when I saw her rushing to clear out

her food tray. I was making my way back from the basketball court, not ex-

pecting to see her of all people. Alone, most importantly. Where were her

friends? The rest of the students had already made their way back to class,

as there were only a couple of minutes left until lunch ended. I'm always

late for class anyway, but I wasn't expecting her to be. I cleared my throat,

brushed my hair and prayed that she had some sort of sinus attack that day.

Deodorant is important guys. With all that aside, I worked up the courage to

finally talk to her. Out of excitement, I ran over, but played it cool of course.

"You're not usually the kind to be running late to class."

She turned to meet my eyes, but I couldn't keep mine on hers. "I... yeah

well my friends aren't here," she said. "And I was up in the library and I

kinda lost track of time."

"Oh, that's alright I'm sure your teachers wouldn't mind."

She let out the most bubbly nervous giggle I've ever heard. "I'm not so sure

about that."

"I'm Michael, by the way"

"Of course I know, you're the guy from the table that started sitting near

mine!" She giggled. I felt really awkward and thought she figured I was a

creep, but that thought brushed away when she said, "My name's Amelia by

_97_

the way" with very bright smile.

With that, we took our own sweet time to stroll back to class, completely

forgetting that we were late for class. She continued to tell me how the girls

love gossiping about the guys and she's heard my name pop up a couple

times and how they noticed I brought the guys over to the new seat. At that

moment, I knew my gay friend Jeff was right, I really am hot.

Without realizing, we made a couple of rounds around the college com-

pound, but soon realized that we had been absent from class for too long.

Without hesitation, I asked her for her social media handles but asked for

too many options, that it may have came off as weird. She giggled. Before

she went into her class, she gave them to me with a cheeky smile and set

foot into her classroom. 'You better not forget!!" she reminded me again

along with her soft voice.

After class, I headed home without a second thought. It felt like the new

basketball shoes I ordered online had finally been delivered. As I made my

way to my room, I leapt onto the bed and began thinking about what I

should say first.

3 Hours had passed, and I still could not think of what to say. GOD, was

it really so difficult for me to start a conversation then? Thoughts worried

through my head, "Would she be thinking that I wasn't interested? Was she

talking to some other guy instead? Do I make her feel like she isn't import-

ant?" My sister walked into the room and grabbed my phone from me. "

_98_

There you go, idiot." she said. I looked at my phone and she had sent a simple "Hey" to Amelia. Apparently those thoughts weren't just in my head, I

was saying them out loud. Yeesh, that's embarrassing.

As we started talking, we immediately clicked. We had so much in com-

mon. We'd talk for hours everyday, and eventually we knew each other like

the back of our hands. We each knew our deepest secrets, fears, and dreams.

In a matter of weeks, I asked her to be my girlfriend, although everyone

already thought that we were already together. To everyone else, we looked

like the perfect couple.

And we were, I guess. But after some time, she started showing her true co-

lours. I had this feeling that Amelia was just keeping me by her side for the

sake of not being alone. I was just convenient company to her. My friends

warned me about her, saying how girls usually string guys along just for

the fun of it. I ignored their warnings because I was that much in love with

her. I wouldn't let the petty opinions of single guys take me away from my

relationship.

I decided to bring her out with Jefri and the gang to see if she needed some

extra company to make her forget about whatever it was that was bothering

her. I was thoughtful enough to bring her out with my friends, even though

they probably can't relate with her too much. While we were out, Jefri and

his pal Adam were diehard Marvel fans and decided to strike up a conver-

sation about The Avengers movie. When Amelia overheard, she made an

attempt to fit in and said that she was also a fan of the " Marvelverse" or

_99_

whatever you call it. I didn't want her to feel like she was alone in it so I pretended as if I knew a thing or two about it as well. I've watched enough

of their movies to make comments for sure.

When I made a comment about Chris Evans being the best possible cast for

Iron Man, she corrected me with an absolutely arrogant tone saying that the

cast for Iron Man was Robert Downey Jr. Like come on, anyone could make

that mistake, and here she is trying to make them think like she's an actual

fan. Luckily, I was calm and just laughed it off with them. I didn't like how

arrogant she was being, and who's to say she won't do it again, so out of

love, I told her off.

"You don't have to be such a fake bitch just to impress my friends you

know." I said.

Knowing that she was wrong, Amelia didn't say a word. She kept the silence

from breaking any further on the ride back home. I figured she'd thank me

and apologize later, but I set my expectations of her too high I guess. That

wasn't the only thing she's done to piss me off.

I told her that her friends were a bad influence on her. All they ever want to

do is go shopping in malls to see clothes, watch movies and all that crap.

They do absolutely nothing but waste her time, especially when she could

be spending her time with me. I knew her best friend Dylan was trying to

snatch her from me, giving her rides home and buying her study food. So

I told her to stop going out with him. She even got mad at me just because

_100_

some fine girl in the gym was asking me to see if her squatting form was

right. I bet she was just super jealous. She's already 22 years old, come on,

grow up already you immature girl.

As each day went on, she started replying to my texts every few hours and

even refused to go out on dates with me. To me it seemed like a red flag that

our love for each other was cleary fading. She'd often use the excuse that

she "needed to study" just because finals were coming up in like 2 weeks??

She was smart enough to get a scholarship for college, why does she need to

study so much? Another lame excuse she would use is that she had to spend

time with her family because they were gonna go away for a long business

trip. Clearly there was something going on with Amelia that I did not know

about.

To this day, she barely wants to be seen with me. It's obvious that she's

embarrassed of me, never showing me off to her friends anymore. We were

from different worlds and she probably felt like I was far beneath her. It's

been days since we've properly talked to each other. She made little to no

attempt to contact me. Her lack of communication showed how much she

didn't care. I can't believe she could just do that to someone she cared

about... used to.

I've been thinking long and hard about why she does these kind of things. I

texted her and waited a few minutes to see what'd she say but after coming

out short I figured she probably didn't even care.

How did we come to this? Why did we let this happen? Where did we go

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wrong? I put in so much effort into this relationship. I remind myself as I try to connect the dots. I googled "Important questions to ask your girlfriend

to know if she still loves you". It said that you ask your partner important

questions about the future, one of them being about their thoughts on mar-

riage. Personally this question hit pretty close to home. I'd thought about

marriage over a million times now and I had hoped that Amelia was as eager

as I was.

There she was, just sitting on the sofa of my apartment binge watching

"Modern Family" on Netflix. I cleared my throat and sat down on the sofa,

next to her. She had an expressionless face as she looked at the TV. I turned

my body towards her and called.." Amelia, babe... What do you think about

marriage?"

"Marriage?" She bursted out in uncontrollable laughter.

Her reaction left me uncomfortable to go through the rest, but this was an

important thing that I needed to know right then, so I persevered.

"Yes Amelia, what do you think, have you thought about us getting mar-

ried?"

"Of course not" she replied in an uninterested voice. "Why would I be think-

ing about our marriage?" she said. Confused and slightly enraged, "Why

not!? Doesn't our future together mean anything to you??" I said in a hos-

tile voice. "I'm only 22 years old, why would I think of getting married so

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soon? There's a lot more to my life that I want to do and experience before getting married." said Amelia, with a defensive tone.

"Don't you want us to spend our entire lives together?, Don't you think of

what our kids would look like or what they would do and achieve in life

when their our age? Don't you want us to finally be complete?" I said with

fury in my mind.

"No, Michael..." she whispered.

Then it hit me, the things she said..... There's a lot more to life that I want

to do and experience? Am I not enough for her? Are there other guys that

she wants to experience??

I couldn't, I've had enough of her not appreciating what an impossible gift

she has.

"Amelia you pathetic excuse of a woman, you've led me on for too long

already. I will not put up with your manipulative tricks on me any longer.

I've given you countless number of chances. You are literally the worst girl-

friend a person could possibly ask for in his life!"

"You have made me feel insecure and unimportant to you. You go out of

your way to make me feel jealous of other guys. You constantly try to hang

around Dylan as much as you can, even though you know he's trying to

steal you from me. I've always warned you but it seems like you're just do-

ing it on purpose at this point!"

"You're a whore who craves the attention of other men so you just stay by

their side and try to get their hopes up. Listening to your friends problems

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and being around them all the time isn't gonna make anyone like you for

who you are."

"You're not fooling me any longer Amelia!" I stormed out of the apartment

and slammed the door shut.

Ring! Ring! Ring! My obnoxiously loud ringtone jingled through the room,

snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked over and wondered who it was.

Speak of the devil, it was Amelia. I held my phone with a tight grip, contem-

plating desperately on whether or not I should pick up the call. I let the first

call go unanswered and instantly felt regret. Maybe I should have picked

up. Then she called again. I hesitated again. Finally on the third call, I re-

membered just how persistent Amelia can be at times.

As the phone rang, a brief rundown of what I planned to say to Amelia went

through my mind. I figured I might as well get this over and done with for

good. I was expecting the worse, only to be completely taken aback.

"Hey Michael," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "How are you doing?"

My heart clenched. "Where are you right now? Can... can we meet up? it's

really important. I'll come over." I said as my voice cracked from the ner-

vousness and guilt flooding through me.

"Yeah, of course you can," there was uncertainty in her voice. "I'm at home."

"I'll be there in about half an hour or so." I said, just before I ended the call.

I quickly made my way to the bathroom. Since it was probably the last

time I was going to see her, I thought that I should do the very least to look

somewhat presentable for her. Needles of water pricked my skin as I stared

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blankly at the floor, worrying of what was about to come next. Amelia was definitely upset with me again. But was she actually worried this time?

Could she actually be missing me around her this time? No, of course not.

This was probably another sad attempt, by her just one of her schemes to try

and make me helplessly fall to her knees.

I snapped back into reality when I remembered I only gave myself half an

hour to meet up with Amelia. I knew I was going to be late. I wasn't even

dressed yet and traffic would definitely be bad. I quickly dressed myself up

in my usual get-up from my piling laundry, a pair of jeans, a plain black

T-shirt and beaten up Converse. I rushed out of the house, got into my car

and made my way to Amelia's house.

The drive to her house wasn't as pleasant as I thought it would be. The traf-

fic was bad, delaying me further. When I arrived, I already knew Amelia

was going to be upset. She always hated when I wasn't punctual. I can to-

tally picture her, arms crossed, face red, eyes shooting daggers right at me.

What I didn't expect was to see a gigantic grin plastered on her face as she

ran out to her driveway. I get out of the car to meet her.

"My grandma's in town," she said. "Is it okay if we head on over to some-

where else other than here... like to a cafe or something?"

"I'm pretty tired, can we just hang around here?"

"Yeah, sure."

Just like that we took a walk around the neighborhood, eventually we came

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across a well maintained, but empty park. It was perfect. We've been here many times before but somehow today, it just feels a lot more different than

the usual. The air turned cold, making my stomach clench. We didn't say a

word to each other but the silence was deafening.

Soon, the sun began to fall, and illuminated the park with a warm golden

glow. A cool breeze fills my nose with the scent of Amelia's shampoo. I turn

to admire her just one last time. She was as pretty as ever, dressed in a sim-

ple white gown.

I was distracted in thought of what I was going to say to her, until I looked

towards her and saw that she was looking at me too but with deep concern

in her eyes.

"So, do you want to tell me what it was all about? Why did you lose control

like that?"

"Amelia, I...," I was stuck with my words and could not process what I

needed to say to her next but eventually, it came back around. "Look, I've

been thinking about it and I think it's best if we both go our own separate

ways."

"Could I at least know why, Michael?"

I go on to explain everything to her, from her lack of care, inconsideration

for me, and the unequal effort that she had put into our relationship. All

she could do was just stare back at me, completely speechless. Her eyes

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dug deep into mine, probably trying to assimilate the situation. Finally, she nodded.

Now I've become speechless as well. I expected her to be screaming, in

tears, or begging for my forgiveness even... all sorts of things but not this!

Which only proves my point of her not caring about me. It hurt me much

more than it should have.

"Thank you for trying," she said.

With that, she walked away with nothing but a smile which what seemed

like... relief?

I stare as her figure slowly disappears into the distance until she was out of

sight. What did she mean? What could she possibly have meant? My legs

feel like noodles and my breath hitched. Spotting a bench, I walk over to

it. The grey concrete feels cold beneath me. Is it cold? Or am I just coming

down with a fever?

My mind races as I try to bring together everything that Amelia had said.

Thoughts of our relationship circles around my mom for a little longer. Did

I love myself? Of course I did. That's why I broke up with her, for the sheer

respect I had for myself, because I've had enough.

And just like that, it all came together. I could see why Amelia did the things

she did and acted the way she acted. It was me.

Me! Me! Me!

All I ever cared about was me, myself and I.

_107_

_Letters Beneath the Screen_

## **Day 1**

A soft buzz beneath my pillow woke me from my deep slumber. I grumbled

and groaned tiredly, rubbing my sore eyes and letting out a silent yawn, my

arms reaching above my head. Just as I was in the midst of avoiding life, she

interrupts me. I scavenge for my phone that hid underneath my pillow as I

rolled over with a sigh. The almost blinding bright light of the phone screen

emanating through the quiet darkness of my bedroom. _"Hi beautiful,"_ the

message read. "Beautiful? Yeah, right," the silent whispers of my thoughts

spilling out from the edges of my mouth. I furrow my eyebrows and hit re-

ply, questions burning in my exhausted mind. "I'm sorry, I think you must

have the wrong number," I replied as I lay my phone back down.

Annoyed, my body stiff with fatigue as I shuffle from one end of the bed to

the other. The strange text, though obviously wasn't intended to be mine,

managed to keep me from falling back into my deepest slumber. An ongoing

cycle of thoughts running through my mind in a never-ending loop. "Curi-

osity is a pain," I thought as I pull my phone from underneath the pillow.

Unveiling the text once again, I hesitate for awhile before I hit delete. As

soon as my fingers left the keypad of my phone, my eyes slowly - almost an-

imatedly drifted shut, as sleep finally and quickly overcame me once again.

The sound of windchimes fills the air. The low sound stirring me awake

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and into the reality of my surroundings. Reaching underneath the flattened pillow that I had cushioned myself on, I grabbed my phone, silencing the

alarm. "Six-thirty," it read. I mustered a tired groan, rubbing the evidence

of sleep from my eyes. As I got up, the silent vibrations from my phone led

me back to lying lazily on the sheets. _"I hope you know that you're capable_

_of so much more."_ Puzzled, I examined the contents of the text once more.

"Does this person not understand English? Did my message not go through

earlier?," I thought to myself. Without replying, I haphazardly throw the

device onto the duvet on my bed, the phone bouncing amongst the comfort

of the blankets. I leave the warmth of my bed and lean my hands on top of

my knees, stretching the aches and pains in my shoulder that come from

sleeping in a tightly curled position. I walk sluggishly into my bathroom, in

hopes to wash away all the stress that came with the day.

As soon as the water touches the surface of my being, a sudden rush of river

escapes my eyes. My body falls to the wet tiles, completely giving in to the

emotions. All the pretence I had to put up with today, the mask of bravery,

the armour of unbreakableness, wholly disappearing just with a snap of a

finger. Buzz.. buzz.. _"You don't have to put on a brave face._ You don't have

to lie about being fine. You don't have to act like you are unbreakable, like

nothing ever hurts your feelings. You're only human at the end of the day."

I was exhausted. So exhausted. Tired of being myself-my ugly, unworthy,

fat, pathetic self. Just once...I wish... just for once, where I don't cry in the

shower. I already do so many things wrong in life. But I'm not capable of

doing something as simple as showering in peace?

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To start of my usual, mundane, evening routine, I pour myself a hot cup of Milo and is then accompanied by the surroundings of my empty balcony.

Ahead of me, holds the busy view of Kuala Lumpur. The sun is just starting

its regime by setting. The traffic keeps pressing through in the most unre-

lenting way. The clouds roll by. I see ant-like pedestrians. Probably talking

about how amazing their day went. And there I was, smiling behind my

steaming cup of Milo as if I'm just excited as they are. But really, if I was

being truly honest, I'd admit that nothing has felt different since I was 10.

Instead, everything feels blurry, muffled. I lost track of the days and the

nights because instead of being individual sunrises and sunsets, it's just an-

other day of me feeling like I'm walking upstream against a raging current.

Instead of fighting and it feeling like it's a challenge, I'm giving in to the

voices inside my head. I mean, no one has ever been there for me as these

voices have, right? Buzz.. buzz.. _"Never stop believing in yourself._ Never

lose faith in yourself. Never doubt your own potential." I let out a sigh, as

I swallow the remaining of my comfort, gripping the glass close to me and

walk into my room. I may seem like a typical, average, depressive 19-year-

old. And like many depressed teens, I hold a dark secret. No, I do not self-

harm, not physically at least.

Continuing with my habitual drill, I grab my backpack, reaching my hands

in to reach for my planner. Empty. "Maybe it's in the other pocket," I won-

der. I open the back pocket hoping to find it there. Empty. A sudden rush

of panic enveloped me as I stood up and paced around the room. Tangled

thoughts running laps through my head as I try to make sense of it all. "Ta

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ble," I said to myself as I rushed towards my bedside table. I pull out the drawers, hoping to find it occupied. Empty. There was nothing in sight but

the view of a wooden interior. Empty. I felt myself being paralysed with

every second that went by. Empty. That's exactly how I feel as realisation

starts sinking into my very core, and I become fully aware that my planner

was, indeed, missing. This might sound a little pathetic and weird even.

Why would someone freak out over something as insignificant as a miss-

ing planner? Truth be told, that wasn't just any planner. It was not where I

penned down my to-do list. Nor was it for my grocery list or my task plan-

ner. It was technically where I harmed myself.

Maybe I wasn't being clear enough. Being someone who has the pain toler-

ance as low as a coffin in a grave, I found alternative ways to inflict harm to

myself instead of doing it physically. My planner wasn't any usual planner.

Its contents are the ongoing battle that goes on in my mind every single day.

It's the many times I've just laid in bed trying to avoid. It's the musings that

accompany me as I sit on the bathroom floor watching the then lukewarm

water draining beneath me where I wish for a second that I'd go down with

it into some abyss where there are no problems outside of wondering where

the end of the pipe will take me. It's the reflection in the mirror that I, unfor-

tunately, am obliged to come face to face with every day. It's the insults that

go back and forth in the spaces between my ears. It's the wishing that my

face looked different, that my voice sounded different, that my entire per-

sonality was different. It's the long list of flaws about myself that I cannot

stop resenting. Now, the one way I found true release, was nowhere to be

found. Buzz buzz _"Everything may seem to be out of place, and everything_

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_may seem like it's not working out, but you must remember that time is everything."_

In the midst of my internal meltdown, a soft knock found itself on my bed-

room door, bringing me back to reality. From behind the wooden barrier,

my housemate, Liza, calls out in an elegant tone. "Jane, Lilian and I are

going out for dinner. You want anything?" She asked as I rejected politely.

"Ah okay, have a good night," she said delicately before the sound of her

retreating steps echoed as she walked away. I found myself in the comfort

of my bed as tears gushed like a wild river. How could I have let something

so important and personal slip out of my sight? How could I have been so

careless? Buzz.. buzz.. I felt a vibration as sighed. "Not right now," I said

to myself. "I can't think of assignments right now, Joey." I leaned towards

my bed frame, uncovering my phone, all prepared to take in the flooding of

assignment talk. I didn't need my group mates hating me more than they al-

ready do. _"Hope will return to you. Love will return to you. Your laugh will_

_return to you. Your glow will return to you. Keep your head up :)"_ It was

sent by the same person, along with 3 other messages.

Why can't this person just stop? He must've known he got the wrong num-

ber since I stopped replying. My eager eyes scanned through all the mes-

sages thoroughly, letter by letter, piece by piece trying to make sense of the

mind at the other end of the screen. Right then, I saw every tiny piece of

a jigsaw puzzle slowly coming together, assembling immaculately in their

own places, forming one complete visual. Just like that, it clicked. "No.. no

no no no," I whisper, as I suddenly find myself gasping for air as though I

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was being shoved underwater. This is not happening. Without a single warning, my body turns into a pressure cooker. Heat spreads from my heart to

my limbs. Panic arose, knowing that as I lay here in sheer helplessness, this

person is out there, reading my every word and emotion tied to ink and pa-

per. This person has just made himself an intruder in my being. This person

now knows every thought that my mind projects. This person now knows

my biggest fears. My insecurities. My whole life. Running the frustrations

out of my hair, I take a deep breath as I start phrasing words in my head.

With my shaky hands barely brushing the keypads, I type, "Are you having

my planner?" Buzz Buzz. _"Tough times don't last, tough people do. Always_

_remember that."_ My blood boiled as soon as I laid eyes on the message.

Who does this guy think he is? Is he taunting me? Instigating me? "Give me

back my planner! You had no right to go through it! Who do you think you

are?," I reply. Like a pachyderm, this person is like large elephants invading

my space, trampling on my right, and harming my privacy.

To make matters even worse, there was no hint of remorse or regret in his

messages. 15 long minutes went by and my patience was already hanging

on by a thread. No new messages. No new torments by this anonymous

stranger. Nothing. "Helloo?," I type hesitantly, as I hit send. 5 minutes go

by and the deafening silence from my phone begins to instigate my anxious

heart. My once comfortable bed has now turned into hard concrete due to

the stress I'm feeling. I stood up and began pacing around the room once

again, in hopes to somehow rush time. No message alert. Nothing. I pick

up my phone, typing in another message. Maybe, if I was polite or sounded

kind, the person would have a change of heart and respond to me. "Hi again,

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I hope you know how much my planner means to me. It would mean the

world to me if you gave it back... I'd even give you a small token of appre-

ciation. How does freshly baked chocolate chip cookies sound? Or would

you just prefer cash? Please respond. Thank you." And within just a few

seconds, I felt my phone vibrating in the palm of my hand. _"Have a good-_

_night, Jane. I hope you only dream the sweetest dreams."_

Just like that, 4 hours passed with only a goodnight message from the anon-

ymous soul that has now seen the other, most vulnerable parts of me. It's

nearing 1:00 AM. I'm sleepy, but my body roots itself on my bedroom floor.

I look at college work and writing assignments that I know I won't be com-

pleting tonight. I feel tired, but I don't sleep. I struggle to control this be-

haviour, but deep down I already know why I'm still sitting here, and I

know that I won't be able to change it. I've always found excuses to stay up

late. As a kid, it was video games. Now it's homework and paranoia over

my lost planner being in the hands of another. I consciously oppose this be-

haviour, but my subconscious always wins in the end. I do what I do without

a thought at this point...all for a simple reason. I'm afraid. I'm afraid of my-

self. When I lay there at night, in the dark, I can't run from anything. There

in the dark, I'm forced to think about all of the things that I'm able to avoid

during the day. Nighttime is quiet. The city itself starts to slumber and the

world itself comes to a halt.

I struggle to find something, anything else to do instead of sleep. Looking

at the blank paper in my hands where letters were already supposed to find

its place, I realize I haven't accomplished anything or done anything mean

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ingful. Hours pass and all I do is kill time, all in the name of running. I can lay down, exhausted, and in a few moments be wide-awake. I try to fool

my body by shutting my eyes, but it doesn't help. I can't find relaxation or

sleep. All I can find is a raw, and unapologetically honest reflection of my-

self. And I don't like what I see. My mind takes over. I try to fight back, but

I feel like I'm a prisoner in my own head. But it's my head. When it's all

said and done, I'm torturing myself. A familiar vibration brought me out of

my thoughts. Buzz.. buzz.. _"You may not like yourself right now but that's_

_OK. You're beautiful the way you are. You don't need to change a thing."_

I set my phone back down, not bothering to reply. They weren't going to

reply to me even if I did, so what's the point anymore? With that, my heavy

eyelids slowly gave in to my exhaustion, closing shut, putting an end to my

peculiar day. 

## **Day 7**

Buzz.. buzz.. _"I know you may not see your own value, but so many people_

_do. You may not know this but you bring a smile to people's faces, and make_

_their days better."_ Days went by, and all hope I had for my planner to one

day find itself back to my arms was slowly disappearing. Days went by, and

all this stranger was doing was sending me encouraging messages, still an-

noying me to my core. Days went by, yet, thoughts of blocking them never

crossed my mind. Was it because I was still hopeful that they would return

my planner? Or was it because I was actually looking forward to these mes-

sages? It is rare that anyone even knows that I am upset. Due to

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this "tough" exterior I am able to demonstrate, people never really know

how I am actually feeling. I just carry on, like everything is good and fine,

but this is different.

The thought of this person knowing the demons that I face every day, yet,

they're still sticking around, is exceptionally mind-blowing.

There's a sort of comfort knowing that someone out there actually knows

exactly what I'm feeling. It still wasn't able to dispose the anxiousness I'm

feeling at this exact moment. Here I was, sitting on the floor of my bed-

room, stuffing my face with packets of Twisties in one sitting when I was

supposed to be picking out a dress for Rani's party tonight. I'm not going to

lie and say that I haven't gained any weight in the past year. It would be a

miracle if any of my dressed even managed to slip up my hip. I finally mus-

tered up the courage to walk to my wooden closet and pull on the handles of

the door, exposing my tornado-like mess of a wardrobe. Brushing my hand

through every fabric, I find myself worrying about what people would think

if I wore these dresses.

Scenarios after scenarios played around in my head. "Can you imagine what

people would say when they walk behind you? The laughter that follows

soon after. You'd be thinking, _'Is it me? Are they laughing at how tight my_

_clothes are, My size?'_ As a matter of fact, THAT is exactly why they're

laughing at you," uttered a voice in my head. I finally pick something out.

Like many of my 4 dresses, this one was black. The only difference was, it

was in the size 2XL, bigger than the rest of the dresses that resided in ward

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robe. Putting it on was harder than expected, but with a lot of pulling and sucking in, I managed to get it on my body. The fabric felt soft against my

body. It clung to my skin in an unflattering way instead of creating a sen-

sual yet feminine silhouette. I pull on the sleeves in an attempt to loosen it.

Looking in the mirror, my stomach churns at the sight. I was disgusted that

I allowed myself to get to this point. From looking the way I do, to feeling

the way I do.

Buzz.. buzz.. _"Your past might be the reason why you hate yourself. If you_

_cannot move passed a rejection from years ago, then it's easy to feel bad_

_for yourself. It's easy to feel like no one is ever going to love you when you_

_were turned against in the past. It's easy to feel like the world is against you_

_because of the way you look. Your darkest memories might eat you alive. It's_

_time to face that and figure out why you don't see what I see."_ Tears stained

my screen as I read the message sent by the stranger. For as long as I can re-

member, I've always been the bigger girl. I remember having boobs as early

as 11 years old, and I remember shopping in the women's section for my

size 16 jeans at 13 years old. When I was growing up, my weight hovered

like an ever-present cloud, having a significant impact on the way people

perceived me. When I say 'people', I mean my parents. Being brought up in

a relatively 'fit' family, I felt like a black sheep and my family had no prob-

lem to make that feeling a reality. The constant comments – the reminders

that I was fat and the insinuations that becoming thin should be my number

one priority. I remember one day when I got food poisoning and had to go

to the hospital. Since I couldn't eat anything, I lost 2 to 3kg. My mom's re-

sponse was to say "Well, let's hope this continues." Even when I

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came home crying after the kids in my school threw nasty insults my way,

the words my parents used to comfort me were 'suck it up', 'stop crying',

'you're not going to lose weight by crying.' 

## **Day 13**

I'm usually very cautious of the things that are happening around me. But

these days I find myself losing everything I own. First, I lose my planner,

today, after looking up and down in college and my room, I realised I mis-

placed my favourite hoodie. I favoured it because It was big and its spacious

interior kept me safe while giving me a sense of security and comfort. My

strong attachment to that hoodie led me to the exact store where I got it,

hoping that it was still on the shelves. As always, I had the worst of luck.

Just as I got to the store, a long line stood ahead of me. Standing on my

toes to look ahead of the crowd, a sign that said 'Clearance sale. Everything

must go' caught my eye. No wonder it was packed. Usually, due to my so-

cial anxiety, I would not hesitate to turn the other way and just head home,

but today, something felt different. I couldn't put a finger on it, but I just

didn't care about the crowd and just give in. I found myself being pushed

and shoved, left to right as customers rushed to grab the biggest deals the

store has to offer.

My eyes scanned around the room, looking for my soon to be security blan-

ket. There it was, seated right at the top of the aisle. I ran to its direction and

grabbed it like my life depended on it. "Now, to pay and get out of here," I

muttered to myself. Just a split second later, I found myself face down on

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ground. "I am so sorry!!!," exclaimed a worried voice, as I felt a hand trying to raise me up to my feet. With my vision blurred, I stood up unsteadily. A

rush of humiliation came over me, while the thoughts of people's perception

towards the situation I was in clouded my headspace. They were probably

thinking about what a klutz I was. They could also be making fun of me, I

started to sweat, I was breathing deeply to catch my breath as my heart felt

as though it was about to jump out of my chest. With my head held low, I

bolted to the cashier, paid for my item with a RM100 bill and ran out with-

out getting my change back. I found myself in the nearest public washroom

trying to calm myself down from the sudden rush of panic. A familiar sound

drew my attention away from my current state.

Buzz..buzz... _"If you ever find yourself stuck in a cloud of negativity, close_

_your eyes and take a deep breath. I promise you, things will get better."_

Like a knight in shining armour, the message resonated deeply within me.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, meditating on every word crafted

by the stranger. I didn't want to live my life like this anymore. The demons

who currently had their prowling grip on me had to go. No longer am I go-

ing to escape into washroom stalls to catch a breather. I decided to close my

eyes and take a few breaths in and out. It suddenly came to my mind all at

once reminding me of my worth and the love I deserve, once compliment,

thoughtful words, words of affirmation, one after another. The self-confi-

dence gained from the compliments I got every day gave me the boost that I

never thought I needed after all that happening. All these thoughts swooped

the negative thoughts I had away. After having a short sudden panic I finally

calmed down and went home.

_119_

**Day 24**

As soon as I stepped foot at the entrance of my house, a faint sob was heard

echoing the room. Following the direction of the sound, it led me to Liza's

doorstep. Confusion and worry came over me as I realise she must be in

trouble. Not wanting to startle her, I left a soft knock on her door. "Hey, it's

me... Is everything okay?" I asked as soon as the sobs came to an abrupt

stop. The door opened, exposing her swollen face. An explosion of tears

streamed down her face like a waterfall. She looked at me with her blood-

shot eyes- the protruding red vessels indicating the hours she must have

spent crying. "I accidentally deleted one of my final projects and there's no

way for me to get it back now..," she uttered in between tears. "My group

mates are pissed. They told me that I'm not capable of anything. I ruined

everything."

The frustration in her voice mirrored the emotions she was feeling. Guilty

feelings like this is a familiar friend to me. I know exactly how she felt but

I also knew what a capable person she was. Without hesitation, I opened my

mouth, attempting to comfort her. "Mistakes happen, sometimes it's beyond

our control. But making mistakes doesn't automatically make you less ca-

pable. You just learn from it and do better." As soon as those words left my

mouth, a sudden flow of realisation hit me. Did I actually say that? _"Never_

_stop believing in yourself. Never lose faith in yourself. Never doubt your_

_own potential."_ The exact message from the anonymous stranger flashed

through my mind, and I realised that right now, Liza was mirroring me

_120_

whilst I took the place of my mysterious texter. "Hmm... That's true," She responded as she wipes the tears on her cheeks with her sleeves.

I felt joy from my heart that I've never felt before. I have never thought

that I would be able to encourage someone until I comforted Liza. That's

when it hit me. Life is not all about negativity and sadness. Through every

mountains and storm life throws at us, there's always a light at the end of

the tunnel and right now, this is the light my heart has been longing for. All

it took was for someone else to believe in me at my lowest. I've not com-

pletely come out of the darkness yet, but I'm slowly allowing the lights to

come in through the cracks. Uncovering my phone from my backpack, my

fingers brushed the top of my screen- "Thank you for believing in me. Now,

it's my turn to believe in myself."

_121_

_rust In Me, T_

_T_

_rust in You_

As the night falls, the sound of the Azan from the mosque could be heard

echoing in the air breaking any silence. It is time for the Muslims to perform

the Maghrib prayer to show their faithfulness to the one and only God, Al-

lah. After they were finished, they continued to do their daily recital of the

Al-Quran to seek guidance from God's holy words. Mikah's soft and allur-

ing voice could be heard leading through the entire recital.

"Mikah, looks like you're getting better at reading the Quran. Very proud of

you," stated Mikah's father.

"Thanks, Abah," replied Mikah, a soft smile on his lips.

After everything was settled, the whole family carries on with their daily

activities. Mikah is finishing up his homework while his brother, Mikail sits

next to him reading a storybook. Mikah's mother is serving up some piping

hot Sup Tulang on their round wooden dining table, while Mikah's father

watches football on the television in their cosy living room accompanied by

a cigarette in his hand.

It was just another typical night, until Mikail asked out of the blue, "Abah,

what's the meaning of gay?"

The entire family paused, a bewildered look on their faces. Mikah's eyes

_122_

flitted from his mundane workbook to a curious Mikail. His lips slightly

parted and his eyes widened. "Where you hear the word from, sayang?"

asked Mikah's mother.

"Oh, I heard it on TV once. What does it mean ah?"

"Mikail, gay means that a guy loves another guy. In the Quran, Allah doesn't

let his followers have same-sex relationships, that's why no one in this fam-

ily should disobey him," said Mikah's father sternly.

Mikah's heart spirals in a downward motion. The thought that his parents

may find out he is gay made him sweat uncontrollably. Mikah gets up slowly

from the dining table, making sure not to emit a sound. He ambled towards

his bedroom and closed the door shut. A feeble sigh escaped his mouth, as

he slams his body on his soft silky bedding. "Haish, they will get mad at me

if I tell them," mused Mikah.

Miscellaneous thoughts dart his mind, as he sinks his face deeper into a

wrinkled pillow. Not only does he have to study for his SPM, but he also has

to find a way for his sexuality to come to light to his family. A knock on the

door snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Mikah sayang, open up. It's Mak ni," prodded Mikah's mother, her voice

soft and airy.

He stood up quickly and unlocked his bedroom door, slight dizziness in his

_123_

forehead. "Yeah Mak, what's wrong?"

"I want to talk to you, can I come in ah?"

"Yeah boleh," Mikah hesitated, before moving away from the doorframe.

Once again, his head was inundated with questions. Does his mother know

he is gay? Oh no, she knows, doesn't she? Is she going to confront him?

Goosebumps roll in his flesh as he created more presumptions in his mind.

"Mikah, you've been hanging out a lot with that girl Ayna ya. Is there some-

thing going on between you two?", said Mikah's mother.

Mikah's face faltered, relief reducing the pressure in his veins. He inward-

ly chastised himself for reacting too quick. Suddenly, an idea crossed his

mind. What if he pretends to date Ayna so that no one will know he's gay?

It sounded like a perfect idea, so he quickly spoke, "Oh yeah, we're actually

dating."

"Ye ke? Invite her for dinner next Saturday la, I want to get to know her

better," Mikah's mother nudged him playfully.

"Oh okay. I'll ask her tomorrow" said Mikah, faking nonchalant.

"Bagus! Can't wait to meet her," exclaimed his mother.

_124_

The next day, Mikah went straight to Ayna's workplace after school. She

works at a retail clothing store near Mikah's house. It's their favourite hang-

out spot, when Ayna's boss isn't around, of course.

"Yo Mikah, you're here!" shouted Ayna, her rambunctious voice echoing

the room.

"OMG can you not be so loud," whispered Mikah embarrassedly.

Ayna ignores Mikah's remark and walks closer to him briskly. She messes

up his shiny sleek back hair he spent an hour styling in the morning. "Seri-

ously Ayna? Aiyo, every single time! Nasib baik I brought my comb with

me."

Ayna and Mikah have been friends since they were 13 years old. Ayna is a

Muslim lesbian who got kicked out from her family when they found out

her sexuality. Now, she lives in a one-bedroom apartment above the clothing

store. Despite the hardships Ayna faces, she remains lively and optimistic.

"So, what's up?" said Ayna.

"Uhmm...I need your help boleh tak? Can you uhm... pretend to be my girl-

friend?" appealed Mikah while he fidgets with his thumbs.

Ayna looked at Mikah with a deadly slack expression. They have been

friends for what seems like a lifetime, she feels uneasy at Mikah's heavy

_125_

request. After all, she only sees him as a friend, not a lover.

"Alah you have to help me. I'm scared my family will find out I'm gay,"

said Mikah with pleading hands. "All you got to do is just pretend". His face

contorted in pity, Ayna knew she couldn't say no to that face.

"Kay fine, I'll help you. Huh, but only because you're my friend and I care

about you." Ayna succumbed.

"Also uhm... they kinda... sorta invited you for dinner next Saturday," Mi-

kah said in a small panicky tone. Ayna slapped her forehead in frustration,

unaware of what she has gotten herself into.

The next Saturday arrives with fear and apprehension, it was the day where

Mikah officially introduces Ayna to his family as his girlfriend. "One.. two..

three.." Mikail point counts the empty plates seated on the dining table. A

befuddled glaze on his face when he reached five.

"Abang, why are there five plates on the table?" Mikail peered at a rather

occupied Mikah carrying a platter of fried chicken.

"That's because Abang's girlfriend is having dinner with us," Mikah's fa-

ther settled his arms on Mikail's shoulder playfully.

Abang's girlfriend. Mikah's stomach coils at those two words, it pains him

that he has to lie to his family. On the other hand, Mikail's eyes were ablaze

_126_

with excitement. "Abang has a girlfriend! Abang has a girlfriend!" quipped Mikail, in a lilting voice. Mikail's voice was soon interrupted by the sound

of the doorbell, much to Mikah's relief. He puts down the golden brown

goody on the wooden surface and dashes to the door, mentally thanking

Ayna for saving him from the predicament. He opens the door to find a ver-

sion of Ayna he has not seen before. She was wearing a navy blue dress with

a bun at the crown of her head.

"OMG girl, you look so pretty!" shrieked Mikah, closing the door behind

them.

"Thanks! I found it in my closet, I'm surprised it still fits," said Ayna.

It was her go-to dress for special occasions; however, she hasn't gotten the

chance to wear it ever since she left her family.

"Ooh you don't look so bad yourself," Ayna's eyes settled over his slight-

ly build figure; a resplendent button-up shirt and black trousers completed

with his signature hairstyle, which Ayna tousled quick after.

"Ayna! Kenapa?" said Mikah, his face contorted with annoyance. "One day,

I'm going to shave my head so you can't touch it anymore." He bolted to his

room while covering his hair with one hand. Ayna chuckles at the sight of an

irritated Mikah, simultaneously surprised that he didn't have a comb with

him this time. Ayna's expression faltered, as her eyes begin to roam Mikah's

house. The living room was neat and tidy, even the books on the

_127_

shelves were arranged by colours and sizes. Ayna soon realizes Mikah got

his etiquette from his parents. The perfectly lined family portraits on the

corridor captivated Ayna's attention, her eyes gaze at the happy four. A feel-

ing of nostalgia surpasses her, as she stumbled across a photo of little Mikah

and his parents beaming with joy in Sunway Lagoon. It reminded Ayna of

the first time her parents taught her how to swim. She was eight years old,

her parents have just bought her a flutter board so she could swim in an adult

pool with them.

"Eh, Ayna kan? So glad to finally meet you!", an unfamiliar but soft-spoken

voice snapped Ayna back to reality. She averted her eyes from the photo to

the owner of the voice, Mikah's mother. Ayna greeted her with a soft smile.

The resemblance of Mikah and his mother was uncanny, even their cloth-

ing was bright in colours. They share the same thin lips, a pair of endearing

indentations and a smile that reaches their almond-shaped eyes. The only

difference is that Mikah's mother has a rounder face than him.

"Jom, dinner's ready," exclaimed Mikah's mother. With a quick nod, Ayna

follows her into the kitchen where the rest of the family is seated. Ayna's

eyes glinted at the appetizing dishes on the round table. It has been a long

time since she had a home-cooked meal.

"Hi Ana, I'm Mikail!" Mikail waves at her enthusiastically.

Ayna crouched down to meet with his gaze parallel, "It's Ayna, but I'll take

it." She ruffles his coarse hair and takes a seat beside him. He giggles at her

_128_

gesture. Mikah swaggered into the kitchen with his perfectly slick back hair and a comb in his pocket this time.

"Mikah, help to recite Doa please," said Mikah's father. They put their hands

together while Mikah recites the Doa to show gratitude towards Allah for

blessing them with a meal.

After their prayer, they dig into a scrumptious dinner. Ayna takes a bite of

her biryani rice, her tastebud tickles at the dish of gastronomical delight.

"Wow.. sedapnya," uttered Ayna, a saccharine smile plastered on her face.

She wasn't sure if it was the home-cooked meal or the idea of eating togeth-

er with a family, but she feels at home. "Thank you, Ayna. Come, makan

lagi." Mikah's mother added some fried chicken to Ayna's plate. The sight

of Ayna and Mikah's family bonding over dinner makes Mikah happy.

"So, how did you guys meet?" asked Mikah's father. The family cast a curi-

ous glance their way. Mikah's smile dissipated at the question. He slurped a

glass of water frantically, in an attempt to give himself more time to curate

a perfect response. Ayna saw the distressed look on his face and answered

for him.

"Well, we used to sit next to each other. Every day before class, I would

make jewelry for fun while Mikah would watch me do it. I noticed his in-

terest in arts and decided to teach him. That's how we became close," said

Ayna. "And the rest is history." She looks extremely nonchalant and unaf-

fected. Contrarily, Mikah struggles to compose himself. His palms glisten

_129_

ing with sweat.

"Aww... comelnya. You guys look cute with each other," cheered Mikah's

mother, her dimples resurfaced on both cheeks.

Ayna and Mikah chuckled at the compliment. Mikah remembered the day

vividly. It was a Wednesday morning and they were making handmade

crafts as usual. "Hey Mikah.. are you gay?" asked Ayna, curiosity sparked

in her eyes. Mikah pretended he didn't hear what she said, as he continued

to put the plastic beads through a clear elastic. "It's okay if you are. I'm a

lesbian." Mikah's cheeks ablaze at what Ayna said, but those words also

sent a comforting whirlwind into his mind. It gave him a glimpse of hope,

knowing someone like him is also a part of the LGBTQ+ community. They

became good friends ever since, as they confined in each other on secrets

and struggles with their own sexuality.

"Are you guys ready for SPM tak?" asked Mikah's mother, scooping some

vegetables onto Mikail's plate. He glowered at the wilted greens, throwing

tantrums unabashedly.

"Yeah, I think so." hesitated Mikah, his eyes flitted to Ayna who is nodding

subtly. Ayna looked down at her half-emptied plate, swallowing the rice

along with her guilt. She couldn't bear to tell Mikah's parents the truth that

she dropped out of high school two years ago to get a job, especially since

they value education earnestly. Despite how much Ayna hated lying to Mi-

kah's parents, she thought that some things are better left unsaid. Mikail's

_130_

temper tantrums got worse, his arms flailed as the food escaped from his

plate to the table.

"Eat your veggies Mikail!" annoyance creeping into his parents' words. Mi-

kah's face a sheet of calm, alluding it's just another typical dinner night. A

thought crossed Ayna's mind, and she suggested it.

"Hey Mikail if you eat your vegetables, I'll let you play games on my phone

okay?" Mikail's face lit up almost immediately and returned to his normal

state. The family shakes with laughter, knowing Mikail's wild nature. See-

ing Ayna so good with Mikail only made Mikah's parents grow deeply fond

of her.

"So, when are you guys getting married?" asked Mikah's father, sending

shivers down their spines.

"Abah, we are still in school... too early to tell la," muttered Mikah, blood

rising to his cheeks.

"What about after secondary school? There's no reason to wait any longer

kan? You guys are perfect for each other! I know it!" asserted Mikah's fa-

ther, his mother agreeing with him briskly. Mikah chews the insides of his

cheek and swallows nervously, while a pure shock stayed rooted on Ayna's

face. No words escaped from her mouth. The thought of faking this relation-

ship until marriage sets her mind into panic mode. She won't continue with

this facade if it comes at the cost of her own happiness.

_131_

"I finished my veggies!" Mikail's boisterous voice bursts the bubble of silence.

"Good job bro! I'm proud of you!" Mikah reached his arm towards Mikail

and gave him a high five. Ayna soon joined in after, in an attempt to lighten

up the tension in the kitchen.

"As promised, here is my phone for you to play games," said Ayna, taking

her phone out of her black woven bag. Mikail jumps for joy but sprints out

the kitchen instantly. Ayna's brows furrowed, a befuddled gaze settled on

her face. Before she could call out his name, Mikail leapt back to the kitch-

en with a card on his hand.

"Ana, I want you to come to my birthday party!", he hands her a birthday

invitation. "Pleaseeee." drawled Mikail, who is still bouncing up and down

exuberantly.

"Ok la, I'll be there." Ayna succumbed, a soft smile on her lip.

After dinner, Mikah walked Ayna to the bus station. Miscellaneous sounds

filled the deafening silence of their five minutes walk. Crickets buzz, the

leaves rustle, their footfalls against the pavement. "Ayna, you okay? You

haven't said a word since we left my house," said Mikah, panic creeping

into his voice. Ayna stared at the soft glow cast by street lights on the sur-

face, she replied with a shrug of shoulders. Mikah can tell that something

_132_

is bothering her. "I'll let you play my hair if you tell me what's wrong?"

His voice high pitched, sweet and innocent, in an attempt to ameliorate her

mood. Ayna's face lit up with a mischievous glint and did what she did best.

She messed up Mikah's clean-cut hair and both of them laughed.

"There's something I want to tell you," said Ayna, her voice clear.

"Boleh, I'm all ears." Mikah was now paying full attention to her.

Ayna contorted her features, as doubt settles in her head like a dense cloud.

"I know you're doing this because you think it's easier, but it doesn't feel

right that we're lying," sighed Ayna. The thought of faking a relationship

with Mikah until marriage makes her feel uncomfortable, she didn't want to

be a part of it anymore. Mikah came to an abrupt halt, he glanced at her with

brooding eyes. That was the look Ayna was trying desperately to avoid the

entire night, but she knows that putting up this act will only end up hurting

him in the long run. "Mikah, you should embrace yourself. Just because

you're gay, doesn't mean you're a bad person kan? You are so sweet and

kind. Also, it's not like it's our choice to be a part of the LGBTQ+ commu-

nity. It just happens, you know." Ayna glared at him.

"But Ayna, it's a sin. Being gay or lesbian is against our religion," he said

with a sad grimace.

"No one has the right to judge God's creation except himself," said Ayna,

sobriety dripping off her every word.

_133_

The sounds of nature once again filled the awkward space, as they stroll

their way to the bus station. Mikah knows that Ayna's right, but he wonders

if he could really come out to his parents. "Maybe it's time that I share my

story." mused Ayna. Mikah's eyes widened and grew eager to hear what she

has to say. Mikah has tried to ask about Ayna's past previously but failed

at multiple attempts. He gave up eventually, knowing her reserved nature.

"When my parents found out I was a lesbian, no one supported me. I felt un-

worthy and unloved, I was so lonely. I didn't want to put you through that,

which is why I agreed to be your fake girlfriend at first," muttered Ayna. "It

all started when I wrote a confession letter to Fey." They sat down on the

bus stop bench.

"Tunggu jap, Fey the smart Chinese girl in our class?" Mikah shot a sur-

prised look in her direction, his voice was stunned.

"Yes her la. I liked her since Form 1. At first, I thought it was just a stupid

crush. But my feelings for her didn't go away, so I wrote her a confession

letter." Ayna stared at the trees surrounding, avoiding eye contact with Mi-

kah altogether. "I was supposed to give it to her during waktu rehat, but.."

Ayna clenched her teeth, contemplating on whether to finish her story. Mi-

kah's eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher the look on her face. She took a

deep breath and continued, "But then my Ibu found my letter." Ayna turned

to face Mikah. Her mind recoils and the memories of the day resurface.

"Bye Ibu, I'll be back at 4," said Ayna, struggling to wear her overweight

_134_

backpack. She closed the car door behind her and faltered her way to the

rattling school gate. Ayna's mother looked at her receding back, but her eyes

quickly latched onto something else. A bright pink envelope on the pas-

senger seat. Out of curiosity, she opened it. Her lips pursed and her cheeks

steamed red. Ayna's mother couldn't believe the things Ayna wrote in the

letter, and neither does her father because after reading the first two lines in

the letter, he stomped into Ayna's room and threw her things out.

When Ayna came home from school, her things were packed in big bags and

a suitcase. Stood by the front door was Ayna's parents with her letter, pure

blazing rage glazed their faces. Her mom was pink-eyed and lachrymose.

"Ayna, what is wrong with you ah? How dare you! You know what, it's our

fault for not raising you right. We don't want to see you again, go away."

fumed her mother.

"Please let me explain Ibu," pleaded Ayna. Her worst fear came true. She

sank her knees on the ground, heavy sobs tearing from her throat. Her fin-

gernails dug deep into her skin, hoping the pain will wake her up from her

nightmare.

"Didn't you hear what your Ibu said? We don't want to see you again. You

are a disgrace to us." growled Ayna's father, slamming the door ferociously

in her face.

Mikah could see sadness reflecting in her eyes as she unravels her story,

waves of pain gush back and forth in the dark brown pupils. He hugs her

_135_

immediately, salt and moisture stained his orange shirt. "Oh Ayna, you are such a strong soul," said Mikah, tears tickle his eyes. With a sad smile, she

wiped her tears inconspicuously.

"I didn't have a chance to come out to my parents on my own, but you do.

I know you're afraid but it's always better to tell them than for them to find

out themselves. Who knows, they might just accept you. If they don't, just

know that I'm here by your side okay?" Ayna's words offering some conso-

lation. Her story stayed rooted in Mikah's heart, it was an incentive for him

to gain the courage to come out to his parents. Mikah truly knows that he

isn't alone in his journey.

"Okay la, I will tell my parents at Mikail's birthday party," said Mikah con-

fidently. "Thank you for sharing your story with me girl."

"Yeah I'm just trying to help," said Ayna, while reaching into her tote bag

for Mikah's gift. It was a black cord bracelet with dainty coloured beads in

the centre. "I made this for you," Ayna hands Mikah, who is now grinning

from ear to ear. "It represents pride and LGBTQ," explained Ayna.

The straining engine interrupted their moment, as the bus trundles to its

stop. They gave each other a tight hug before Ayna scurries towards the

door. "I'm proud of you, Mikah," she said softly, and with a quick smile that

doesn't quite reach her eyes, she's gone.

The big day arrives, both for Mikah and Mikail. Brightly coloured balloons

_136_

and banners garnished their house from pillar to post, as children roam

around the party with sunny grins on their faces. Mikah stood outside his

parents' bedroom door, his heart beats violently against his ribcage. Every

bone in his body weighs him down, every voice in his head tells him to turn

and walk away. He begins to wonder if one more week or two would make

much of a difference. "Mikah?" a familiar voice snapped him out of his

world. It was Ayna, her appearance differs vastly from the last time she was

in Mikah's house. She was wearing an oversized black t-shirt and denim

jeans. Her hair tumbles over her shoulder, loosely curled. She looks more

like her this time. Mikah glanced at her, the two had an unspoken conversa-

tion between both anxious and encouraging eyes. She shot him a comforting

nod, he gave her a soft gentle smile in return before lurching into his par-

ents' bedroom.

"Mak, Abah, there's something I want to tell you," said Mikah, his voice

raw.

"Sure, masuklah. We're just getting ready for Mikail's party," his mother

puts on her pearl earrings. His father ran his hands through their wrinkly

floral bedding swiftly and signalled Mikah to come sit with them on their

bed. He cleared his throat and walked towards them tentatively. His heart

palpitates faster than his pace.

"Mak, Abah... Ayna is actually not my girlfriend. She just pretended to be

because I told her to. " muttered Mikah. His parents furrowed their eye-

brows and shot a questioning glance in his direction. "The truth is, I'm gay."

_137_

Mikah breathed. His face lowered down at the bracelet on his wrist, refusing to look at his parents in the eyes. "I'm sorry if I let you down." Tears be-

gan to cloud his vision, the sight of his bracelet formed a delusion of steely

colours. He didn't dare to move or blink. The unsettling feeling lingers,

though the weight on his shoulder was lifted. It was the feeling of fear, guilt

and worry merged in one. There was a great pause and an imperceptible

tension in the air. Mikah's parents peered at a fragile Mikah before them,

they had an incredulous look in their eyes. Without a single word, Mikah's

mother pulled him to her warmth. Mikah jumped slightly at her sudden ges-

ture. He tucked his face in the crook of her shoulder, his right hand clutched

by his father. Mikah blinked in the moment then felt the warm dampness

spilled down his cheeks, releasing the sadness and pain that has been held in

him for so long. His breathing was ragged, his lips trembled as he sobbed.

Mikah's parents contorted their faces into a pitiful sort of understanding, it

breaks their hearts to see him like this. They held him tighter, albeit deep

down they still hope he will be straight.

_138_

_ear Mum And Dad..._

_D_

"Papaji, Mamaji... I'm a lesbian." Five words. Five very simple words that

make up a bold, powerful and an impactful statement. A life-changing state-

ment in fact, one that can change a person's life for the better or worse. Five

simple words that keeps reciting in my head over and over again, wanting

so desperately to come out yet can't seeing as apparently I have my heart in

my mouth. Which in simpler words... my name is Janiya, I'm 24 years old,

a Punjabi who works as a psychologist and I am very much shit-scared to

come out to my very, VERY traditional Punjabi parents. I mean how could

I anyways? We're in the middle of preparing for my wedding! A wedding

that my parents, with the mindset of 80 year olds have arranged for me to an

alienated species a.k.a... A man.

You know the usual tradition and whatnot. Since they got arranged from

their parents, I have to be punished too. Come to think of it, my one and

only big brother was the only one who had a marriage out of love in our

family. I guess it's because he had a long-term Punjabi girlfriend which was

already a yes itself to my parents. Plus, he's a boy. They always get away

with everything because patriarchy not only exists in the real world, it too

sure as hell exists in an Asian Punjabi household. I mean it's not like I'm a

single woman who's a workaholic and can't seek love. I'm in a relatively

serious (secret) relationship too... The only difference is that I'm the girl

who wholeheartedly only falls in love with my own gender. A girl, a wom-

an. However, many know not of such a lifestyle of mine because I guarantee

_139_

you not, chaos will occur and all hell will break loose if mum and dad were to ever find out. To top that off, my strikingly beautiful girlfriend Talia, recently confessed to me that she wants a forever with me implying that she's

in it for the long-term. Love her loads but damn, her timing could not be

anymore off huh.

I swear the catastrophe of a situation I'm in is inevitable. Damn... "Life is

complicated", a saying that is often used too loosely by society without re-

ally knowing why, yet I can assure you life is complicated is a saying that

is undoubtedly much of an understatement in my life right now. Indeed, a

paralyzingly situation I'm in. Trying to keep my parents proud and not to

be disappointed in me. Trying to keep myself happy and not to lose myself.

Trying to hold on to the love of my life and not to lose her in this mess of a

situation. Trying to hold on to sanity when life is full of cracks. Goddamn, I

just want life to have a pause button right now or a stop button or even just

a button where I can take full control of life and not have life take control

of me because I feel like I'm continuously falling down deep yet have never

reached the bottom.

......

As I lay on my queen-sized bed which felt like clouds, staring blankly at the

ceiling, reevaluating my life and recalculating my thoughts, wanting a piece

of mind, I start to question; why am I in this situation? Why haven't my

parents asked me what I want in life, and how much of an extent do I have

to go to keep making my parents proud and happy. Everything that I

_140_

did and still continue to do in my life, I do it for them. However, they've always known I was different and I have always been the black sheep of

the family. My mind and views differ from them by afar. They know that,

it's just something they choose not to believe. I confidently speak my mind

to others, but never to mum and dad. I can never shout or be rude to them.

Despite our differences, I respect and have so much love for them. That's

why it's so hard for me to tell them the truth about my sexuality. Knowing

that the outcome would be pure disappointment. Coming out to my parents

is such a difficult task, which is why I am going with the arranged wedding.

As I am in my brightly lit open-spaced room, away from the big mess, loud

noises and an overwhelming amount of people downstairs trying to deco-

rate the house for Magni/ Sagai night. The ceremony which marks the offi-

cial engagement where I and the man that I'm bound to get married to, are

surrounded by our family and friends. Another one of the many ceremonies

which I'm so not looking forward to. I pace back and forth, coming up with

simpler, more acceptable ways to come to out to mum and dad. A statement

that's not an "in your face" statement but rather an "I love you, please accept

me for who and what I am" statement. Different phrases, tones, words going

through my head over and over again, coming up with alternative respons-

es mum and dad would say to me. I do this to prepare myself for whatever

outcome that might occur and to also make me feel better knowing how I'm

going to react to their shocked and possible negative reaction.

I turned to my long mirror hanging by the sun-kissed orange wall surround-

ed by my colourful traditional clothes for the upcoming ceremonies. I see

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my reflection of my medium height, light brown tanned skin, long silky bru-nette hair, my light brown hazel eyes, and prominent features. I continued

glaring into the mirror and quietly uttered to myself, "I can do this Jan, I can

do this." Determined as I hoped to be, I gave myself a nod, and a half-smile

assuring myself I have this under control. "Okay this is it Janiya, you gay

ass Punjabi confident woman, you got this" I sighed and affirmed myself as

I took a deep breath. I opened my white, rustic bedroom door, forced myself

out of it and found my way walking down two flights of stairs nervously,

passing by an abundance of people being occupied, and loose decorations

lying on the floor as I head towards mum and dad.

At long last, I spotted them having a wholesome conversation with my

childhood best friend Divya. I wasn't taking in any sounds from anyone that

was speaking in a distance as my mind was in a daze, out of touch from re-

ality for a quick minute. All that was going through my over-crowded mind

was "GODDAMN IT JANIYA WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

I stood by the kitchen door staring at both of my parents longingly. I've al-

ways said that mum and dad reminded me of the parents from that football

movie, bend it like Beckham. The movie where the Indian girl was shunned

for her passion for football. Not only do my parents act exactly like that, but

they look alike too. Except mine looks much older, are in their 50s and are

a tiny bit more mental. Ironic isn't it, how some made-up movie isn't just a

movie but unintentionally, a real-life situation too.

Suddenly a loud noise interrupted my thought process, I was in touch with

reality again. My head turned towards the three of them which then caught

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my mum's attention. Startled as I was, I walked towards them reluctantly.

"Janiya, Beti" questions being asked all at once. "How this", "How that"...

"Ma!" I voiced out, interrupting her as she looks on with excitement. "I-i

just um I just - I am....." and nothing. My mind went into a blank mode and

I backed out. I saw my parents face, seeing the joy and excitement on their

faces and I just couldn't do it.

"Beti, are you okay, what's happening why you acting like this," Dad asked

forwardly.

Silent I became, "um nothing I- I just"

"She's tired", Divya finishing off my sentences. "Long day at work, huh,

patients being a bore I would assume, I mean I don't blame you... I can't

even imagine having to deal with all those people continuously whining

about their problems. It gets downright annoying" she continues trying to

divert the attention on her and saving my ass.

"Yeah haha, I should be getting paid more for this" I jokingly replied back.

"Uncle and Aunty Bhamra, you both just continue on with the orders, we'll

just go upstairs and sort other things out" Divya, trying to save my dumb

self as she said with false cheerfulness of conviction as she grabbed my

hand whilst we head upstairs to my room.

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Divya Kaur. My childhood best friend. A rare and sweet soul and definite-

ly one of a kind. The girl that looks like me, acts like me but isn't gay like

me. The confident, strong, brave, outspoken one who doesn't give two shits

about what another individual as to say about her. The one who is with me

every step of the way through thick and thin. You know how everyone in

life has that one friend that is your person? If I was Meredith Grey, Divya

would be Christina Yang type of friendship. She was the first person who

knew about me before I even did. Divya offered to help with the wedding, to

be able to keep a close eye on me and to be there if I needed the emotional

support. I guess you can say she's my main support system and my voice of

reason.

"Bitch! what were you thinking?!" baffled Divya as she softly slammed my

bedroom door.

"Div, I can't freaking do this anymore dude. I'm tired, broken, confused,

lost, I'm all of the goddamn freaking emotions!" I yelled out in frustration.

"I'm hurting myself, I'm hurting Talia and damn I know I'll be hurting mum

and dad either way... shit Div, I don't know how much I can take it anymore.

Being closeted for so long is one thing, having to add on this disastrous of

a situation to the plate is a whole other thing." I mumbled softly as a tear

starts rolling down my face.

"I know baby girl, I know." Sighed Divya as she walks up to me and wipes

the uncontrollable tears running down my face, "we'll figure something out,

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I promise" she continues saying as she gives me an affirmative tight hug.

......

As a new morning dawns in, I follow the same monotonous routine as usual.

Wake up, instantly regretting it, get ready for work which I actually do hap-

pen to love, kiss my mum and dad goodbye and head out to drive in the hot,

busy and loving streets of KL. Technically I'm supposed to be taking some

time off, wedding and all, but I refused to do so. I needed to get away for a

quick minute every day because if I were to be at home being surrounded by

utter chaos, I will go insane like a mad hatter and not the Johnny Depp ver-

sion in Alice in Wonderland. I'm talking, Jack Nicholsons' "Here's Johnny"

from The Shining mad. Yeah, exaggerated as it may sound, but can u really

blame me for thinking that way when I'm already so close to doing so? I

mean, imagine having to be closeted from the people you love and not being

able to be fully yourself because of many unwanted circumstances. It really

is a psychological burden to oneself.

Since I'm relatively new at being an official psychologist, I've been as-

signed to work with the younger youths; counselling, therapy and such. I

was in session, sitting down trying to be as attentive as I can be. Listening to

this young timid girl talking about her self-identity problems and yet keep

failing to do so. As she was talking, my mind went back to the past and re-

lieved a few moments in my head. Treasured pivotal moments such as when

I was in my young teen years, a thin Chinese boy fawned over me and I

pretended to like him too since having a relationship was a trend at that age.

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All I could remember was being so not amused by him or any male in fact.

I never once got turned on by them. Scared me even. Tragic, I thought but

left it with no care. I only knew I was 100% into girls was when Div and I

were in the UK completing our degrees. I stole a glance at this drop-dead

gorgeous girl and my heart skipped a beat like a scratched CD. From then

onwards I turned towards my side of the fence and it was a done deal.

"Hellooo, from earth to Ms Janiya" the young timid girl sassily chimed in,

breaking my vivid thoughts of moments running through my head.

"Wha-what? Oh yes, of course, sweetheart" I replied back, "listen you

shouldn't be afraid of being you, you shouldn't care about what society

thinks okay, promise me that because your happiness is what matters the

most" I continued.

"Hmm okay I promise" she answered in her high pitched voice.

Then it hit me, how I'm so determined to give the advice that any lost, scared

individuals need because I never want them to be who they are not yet ironi-

cally, I never listen to any of my own advice, which was what I needed. I felt

like a hypocrite, I tell my little ones that they're not alone when in reality I

feel so alone and lost.

......

Work had finished towards the evening. I hopped in my grey coloured BMW,

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turned the engine on, put my RnB music on blast and drove off to the roads into busy traffic. As I was driving and listening to some love song playing in

the background, I kept thinking of Talia. I kept thinking of the first moment

my big brown eyes laid on hers. I was twenty-two and she was twenty-three.

I just came back from the UK and was settling back here in KL again. We

met at an LGBT disclosed event where I made Div come with me. There I

saw a Eurasian-looking woman who's strikingly beautiful, tall, olive skin,

curly medium length hair, with minimalistic tattoos, piercings, and had

quite the sense of fashion. Talia Rose Dennis. Her name as enchantingly

beautiful as her. In awe I was, I was over my head and to my own pleasant

surprise, I went up to her and made the first move. Shocking, I know. And

since then, things escalated quickly and we are still going strong two years

later... Well almost strong if it weren't for this stupid arranged marriage.

Talia is the kind of woman you want to be like and the woman you want to

be with. The rose among the thorns. She's beautiful, confident, comfortable,

open with her sexuality and just so free and optimistic. Besides Div, Talia

gets me like no other. She always encourages me to be me and when I'm

with her I never feel small. To my surprise when I told her about my situa-

tion, she was as understanding as one could be. God, I love her so much and

hate that I'm messing everything up.

Suddenly my phone rang loudly through my speakers which startled me. I

answered it, its Talia. I swear her timing is weirdly so impeccable.

"Hey love, I'm parked near your house, I need to see you right away we

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need to talk"

My heart sank when I heard those words, and knowing what's going to hap-

pen, "OK, I'm almost there,'' I replied despondently.

As I reached closer to the house, I see her sitting inside her brand new red

Myvi parked on the other side of the street not close to my house. She took

a glimpse of me and went out of her car to sit in mine. As she comfortable

sat in, I drove off to park in a quiet area.

"So you're really going through this huh" she questions me in a critical tone.

"Talia don't. Don't make it sound like this shit is over, at least for now"

"Jan what the hell? It is going to be over. What, so you're going to marry

him whilst being with me?! How daft and twisted does that make you sound

right now"

"TALIA!" I voiced out harshly. "You think I want to be in this downright

shitty situation right now?! Do you think I want to keep hurting you, my

family and myself? Every minute and every second, I start to lose myself

and lose everything in me. I love you but I love my family too." I uttered as

I start to get choked up.

"If you love your family and you love me, you need to check in reality and

stop lying to your parents and yourself. That's going to hurt you even more.

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Look Jan, I've tried to be understanding and I still am, but b it's gone way too far and I genuinely don't know how long I can see you fall into a situation that's going to ruin our relationship. I love you and I'll always be here,

but you can't expect me to see you choose a path that isn't yours. I have to

go for now" She expressed calmly just moments before she got out of the

car, went to hers . I drove back to my house with tears pouring down my

face.

I parked my car in the driveway, stayed in for while wanting to let out all

my frustration and anger but stopped as I saw my Malay neighbours at the

entrance of my house. I wiped my tears away got out and walked towards

them. Uncle Ismail and Aunty Yana's family have been our neighbours for

years. Dad is really close to uncle, always talking politics and whatnot. They

have a teenage daughter named Ayna who's a lesbian too and uncle kicked

her out of the house when he found out. Disheartening really, as this is what

the Asian mentality is and I know that's going to be my reality foretold.

"Ah hello Janiya, so excited for you ah can't wait for you to be officially

engaged tomorrow."

The world stood still for a minute. My brain recollecting the sentence uncle

Ismail just revealed. Wai-what?! Tomorrow? Holy shit then it hit me... I-ii-I

am going to be officially engaged TOMORROW.

......

_149_

It was a Saturday morning after dawn. I heard the crows' jolly chirping which woke me up. My eyes opened wide and I realized today isn't going

to be my usual normal monotonous routine. Today's going to be different.

A change that I so desperately didn't want, but can't avoid. I got out of bed

and saw Divya sleeping next to me. I woke her up, trying to avoid all the

punches she's throwing at me which makes me giggle . We got dressed

in our normal basic clothes and we proceeded to head downstairs to see a

bunch of people there I didn't recognize . Caterers, makeup artists, people

who were decorating, etc... I mean I know it's like an official engagement

ceremony but it's literally just a small thing at home with a bunch of close

relatives. Why on earth is mum making this a big deal? Panic starts to arise

from me giving me mini attacks. Divya calms me down by holding my hand

tight and firmly, giving me some sort of comfort.

Mum and dad came up to Div and I as we were eating breakfast in the kitch-

en. In the midst of talking to me as I stare at them blankly, all I could think

of was desperately wanting courage and a whole lot of miracle right now to

get out of this mess.

"Janiya," mum interrupted my thoughts, "Why is your mind somewhere

else ah why you not paying attention to what I'm saying?" Her Punjabi ac-

cent came through.

"I am" I replied

"Okay, then what did I say ah?"

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I stayed silent.

"Mera Beti, what is up with you lately? This wedding is so important to you

and to us. It's going to be life-changing." Dad assured me pride.

"Nothing pa I'm fine, I'm just trying to take it all in, that's all,'' I assured

him back, half truthfully.

Hours past and it's suddenly midday. Home felt foreign now. There were

too many people crowding in different places trying to set things up. Peo-

ple coming to me asking questions, telling me what to do, advising, giving

instructions, loud noises can be heard...I felt overwhelmed in the worst way

possible. Everything and everyone was coming to me all at once as I stood

there like a lost soul wanting to erupt like a volcano. Mum, dad all up in my

business. I felt as though I was on centre stage in a circus, buried in deep.

Pressured, I felt. As the whole world kept moving, I stood still as everything

around me spinned in fast pace. Then finally... anger and courage took con-

trol over me and the words I've been trying to say for the longest time burst

out like flames from my mouth.

"I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE" I cried out loud where at last the world

stood still and paid attention to me. I was being heard.

"MA, PA I LOVE YOU BOTH BUT-BUT I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE,

I CAN'T GO THROUGH WITH THIS WEDDING"

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"Mera Beti, it's okay calm down, it's just nerv---"

Before mum could finish her sentence, I talked over her...

"I DON'T LIKE MEN, I DON'T WANT TO MARRY ONE. IN FACT I

DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THEM. MAMAJI, PAPA-

JI...I'M A LESBIAN. I LOVE GIRLS MA AND, AND I HAVE A GIRL-

FRIEND AND I--I AM IN LOVE WITH HER. IN FACT, I HAVE BEEN

DATING HER FOR 2 YEARS NOW." I exploded, with no filter. I didn't

care about the consequences right now... All I cared about was that it was

finally out.

Silence took over the house. Pin drop silence which turned to a room filled

with shocked gasps and whispers and there I was standing in the middle of

a wildfire. Everyone confused, shocked and in disbelief trying to process

what I've confessed. Divya looked at me in a 'good and finally, she said it

shock.' A look that states 'yo that's my best friend, she finally did it, I'm so

proud'" ... yet nothing. Nothing came from mum and dad. No expression,

no words. Nothing. Disappointment is an understatement. Moments later,

all I got from them was 'get out of my house right now'.

......

It's been two months since I last saw my parents. I somehow knew this was

going to happen. I tried talking and reasoning with them but there has been

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no progress. All I got in return was mum repeatedly saying "where did I go wrong in life for bringing you up like this,'' the usual self- victimising card

all Asian parents tend to play... and dad crying out to me telling me "You are

not my daughter anymore." I told them I'm not looking for their approval

and I just want them to love me and accept me for who I am. But nothing.

To think all these years I did everything I could to make them proud whilst

in the midst of losing myself yet I never complained, and I'm now a stranger

to my family just because I finally opened up... man it hurts like hell. I don't

regret being truthful because with my full acceptance, came self-liberation

and I'm finally free after being trapped for what seemed like an eternity.

I'm now staying with Talia, Divya is with me every moment still and I'm

still in touch with my brother. I may be content now but still, hopefully, the

rainbow will soon shine with its full glory and hopefully mum and dad will

finally accept me and love me as their daughter again.

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_For the ones in search of meaning..._

_154_

_r_

_Fom Chanel to Hell_

I walked out of MAWN model's office with my fist clenched. I can't help

but roll my eyes and let out a sigh. Yet another "we'll get back to you". In

this industry "we'll get back to you" means you're not good enough. I've

always had a vision that I would one day be a model, I didn't know it would

be this hard. I stormed out the doors of MAWN. As I look back I realized

that all their models looked the same, they were clones. Pretty faces with

no character. I realized that they probably didn't want to hire me because I

don't fit their branding of boring.

I held my hand up to stop traffic as I cross the road to the LRT station. The

number of people crowding the station made me miss Hairul for the first

time ever. Hairul is my driver, well, he was my driver. Strange man, always

smiling without reason. What could someone be so happy about? Especially

if you're just a driver. I stood on the train, one arm reached out to the pole

nearest to me trying to keep my balance. Another arm hugging my tote

tightly, making sure no one suspicious-looking was standing near me. "Next

station, Kelana Jaya," drawled the female voice over the intercom, that's

my stop.

Life now is so different from what it used to be. From silk sheets on a king-

sized bed to obnoxious floral printed cotton sheets on a single. The kind of

sheets that are so scratchy that it makes your skin irritated and raw from

scratching all night long. From porcelain plates and luxurious silverware to

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orange plastic ones and cutlery that don't even match. I stood by the door of my room and took a minute to process everything. This is my life now, all

because of my parents.

I looked over to my pile of cardboard boxes and took the top one down. I

opened it and the first thing I saw was my pink and black Chanel dress. I

held it close and drew a breath, it smelt a little musky. It brought me back

to that night. I was laying in bed when Mom called for me, " Dinner time!"

mom yelled. I wore the new Chanel dress I bought, I was too excited to wait

for a special occasion. I raced down the stairs filled with excitement to show

Mom my new dress but I see kakak seated at the dining table, Ugh. Dinner is

supposed to be a time where I get to spend quality time with my family, but

kakak always has to ruin it for me. I felt a nudge on my arm, I looked over as

Mom shook her head in disapproval because of how I reacted to kakak, she

didn't even notice my dress. I sat in my usual seat, silverware and China al-

ready set on the table. Kakak made Bebek Goreng today, her favourite dish

from her home country. I took a few bites of the fried duck but it just felt too

oily for my liking. I passed my food over to kakak. "dah", I blurted. Mom

glared at me, "kitchen. now", she stated. I could tell she sounded upset, but

I had no idea what for. I leaned on the marble kitchen counter as Mom and

Daddy went on and on about how I shouldn't be so rude to kakak, that she's

a part of this family too. Daddy shook his head and sighed, "Stop being so

full of yourself Natasha!", Daddy yelled. I bolted up the stairs, slammed my

bedroom door, picked up my phone and immediately rang up Alice.

It was a night that stayed with me since then. I continued unpacking my

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cardboard boxes, going through all the other memories I had in that big

empty house. I managed to unpack 2 more boxes tonight. I looked up at the

clock and it read 7:08 p.m., it's dinner time. All I had in the kitchen was a

packet of frozen fried rice I got from 7-eleven on the way home earlier. As

I stood there I thought about my marble kitchen counter from home, the

cooling touch it gave me as I leaned on it. This kitchen had a steel counter

that had rust along the edges, on rainy days it felt like ice. The microwave's

beep took me out of that moment, it's dinner time.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of my alarm, I reached for my

phone on the floor and checked the time, 8 a.m. I had 2 hours to get to my

next job interview. I spent a few minutes looking at my ceiling fan, round

and round and round. I checked the time again, 8:38 a.m. I climbed out of

bed and rushed to the bathroom, the door was locked. I heard the shower

running, Jia Yin knew I had an interview this morning but she still chose to

take a shower now. I started pounding on the door, "Hurry up! I need to be

out by 9!" I was panicking. I need this job to pay rent this month. I managed

to get ready by 9.10 a.m. I rushed to Monique Claire, trying to move as fast

as I can without dropping my portfolio and ruining my hair. I got there at

10.05 a.m., I was 5 minutes late for my interview with one of the top global

modelling agencies. Ms Chin from reception signalled me towards Ms Tif-

fany. I followed behind Ms Tiffany into her office, I may be late but I could

feel it in my bones, this was my chance. I went through my portfolio with

Ms Tiffany, she was nodding as she flipped through the pages. After she was

done looking through my work she looked up and said " Ms Natasha, I'm

very impressed with your work. But the fact that you were late for your

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interview threw me off. There are thousands of girls who would kill for this interview. Here at Monique Claire, we need to know that we are your priority, I'm sorry to say but we will not be calling you back."

When I got home Jia Yin was in the living room laying on the couch with

her feet up. "Hey, how'd your interview go?" she so daringly asked me. I

rolled my eyes at her "Great, thanks to you,'' I mumbled. I flopped onto my

bed and bawled my eyes out.

Tears mixed with mascara staining my floral printed pillowcases. I didn't

know it would be this hard, only if it wasn't for Jia Yin, I wouldn't be wor-

rying about how to make rent. I looked at my pink and black Chanel dress

hanging behind my door. I hung it there to remind myself that one day I'll

have my old life back.

After that fight with my parents, I called Alice. Alice was one of my closest

friends back then. Alice spends a lot of her time in my home to avoid being

involved in her parents' constant arguments. We've been friends since kin-

dergarten, she's always been loyal and loving. She's never said a bad thing

about me. Alice had mid-length black hair, slightly on the plumper side but

I never failed to encourage her to lose the extra weight. I think that's why

our dynamic worked so well, we always wanted the best for each other. Al-

ice answered the phone, "Nat! I haven't heard from you in so long!". I love

her, but her enthusiasm can be a bit exhausting sometimes. I told her what

happened with my parents, "I need a night out, a night with just me and my

friends, a night of careless fun," I expressed. Alice suggested that we could

go to watch a movie, but I wanted something bizarre. And then it hit me, it

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was genius!

"How about a birthday party? My birthday's coming up next weekend, it's

perfect!"

"Umm, I don't know, a party?"

"Yeah, come on Alice, for me?"

"I'll definitely help you plan it, but I don't know, your friends and I don't

really hit it off"

"Alright, it's not a big deal if you can't make it."

I was about to have the party of the year. I turned 17 this year, and I've

never been to a club. That's what I wanted for my birthday. The legal age

for drinking is 21 in Malaysia, but I wasn't worried about that. I knew that

with the contacts I had I'd be able to get into any club hassle-free. I texted

my friend Ron, Ron used to be a senior in my school. He's 22 this year, and

he just so happens to be an ambassador of Kyo, one of the most prestigious

nightclubs in KL. Ron used to be the high school bad boy in Sri KDU, girls

fawned over him, but I never understood the hype. I asked Ron if it was

possible to get my friends and I into the club without an inspection, he con-

fidently assured me that he could. I spent the next week inviting my closest

friends and some frenemies at my party, I needed some drama to spice up

the night.

The next day, I went downstairs for some breakfast before school. Kakak

heard what happened the night before, she stood in front of me and mum-

bled: "Maaf, kak sorry mom and daddy angry at you.", her head was down

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and she didn't look me in the eye for a second. She made me scrambled eggs for breakfast, but I wasn't in a savoury mood so I requested Hairul to stop

by McDonald's before school. They don't have the best pancakes, but my

favourite pancake place, The Good Batch, doesn't start serving until 10 a.m.

Since McDonald's was 10 minutes away from Alice's place I told Hairul to

pick her up as well, I wanted to ask her if she'd changed her mind about my

party. Alice doesn't go to Sri KDU with me, she goes to SMK Taman SEA,

a public school. I knew Hairul wouldn't mind the drive. Alice got in the car

and greeted Hairul with her enthusiastic "Hi!", Hairul reluctantly smiled

and nodded at her.

And then I asked her

" So will you be coming to Kyo next Saturday?"

"I think I'll pass Nat, but you have fun okay!"

" Ugh fine, I will, but you won't so that's your loss"

"Tell me all about it after okay Nat?"

"Ms Nat, we're here," Hairul said

"It's Ms Natasha," I stated clearly

I gave Alice a kiss on the cheek and left for school.

I laid on my bed, looking at that pink and black Chanel dress reminiscing

my old life. I haven't spoken to Mom and Daddy since I left home. It baffles

me how they were willing to lose me as a daughter over a party, how selfish

could they be? I reached for my phone from under my pillow, desperately

trying to find an escape from reality. As I was scrolling through Instagram,

I came across a picture of my high school friends. It was a picture of them

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having brunch in The Good Batch. I haven't spoken to them in weeks, none

of them has reached out to me. I felt my blood start to boil, my nails were

digging into my palms because of how tightly I was clenching my fist. I gave

them everything! I was the one who brought them to The Good Batch in the

first place, and now they're there without me? They even have the audacity

to post it on Instagram. I clicked onto my profile, ready to delete any traces

of our friendship off my feed. Instagram used to be where I go to when I

needed to remind myself who I am, but every time I go on the app, all I see

is my old life haunting me . My follower count dropping day by day.

I laid there worried. I've been to 4 job interviews in 3 weeks, and haven't

had a call back from anyone of them. How am I going to make rent? The

landlord was clear about his rules when I moved in. If I don't have the mon-

ey by next Tuesday, that'll be one strike. 3 strikes and I'm out. Mom and

Daddy told me that they wouldn't give me money anymore so I couldn't ask

them. I got out of bed and walked to Jia Yin's room. As I stood in front of

her door, I took a breath in and closed my eyes. I knocked on her door, she

opened. I saw the shock in her eyes when I asked for her help to cover my

rent this month. "I'm sorry Natasha, I'm a student myself. I don't have that

much money to spare." Jia Yin replied. I let out a sigh and walked back to

my room without saying another word.

With so much time on my hands, I decided to take the LRT to the heart

of KL. It's been a tough week, I needed to feel like me again. I wandered

around KLCC and malls nearby. It felt different compared to when I was

last here. As I walk around the stores, I find myself looking at the price tags

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hoping that I'd find something I could afford. In the past, I'd see some-

thing I like and put in on the counter. I'd swiped a card and it was mine. I

looked around the billboards and I see an ad for LimConstructions, Daddy

owns one of the largest construction companies in Malaysia. I couldn't help

but smirk, it was nice seeing a part of him after so long. As much as I hate

admitting it, I miss my family, I miss having a meal that isn't frozen from

7-eleven with people I know, even if that includes kakak.

The last dinner I had with them was for my birthday. I told my parents that

Alice and I were going to have a sleepover for my birthday, I couldn't tell

them about my party because I knew they wouldn't approve of it. "How

about celebrating with us?" Mom questioned, she seemed heartbroken. "We

could celebrate before, just family" I stated while holding Mom's hand. She

smiled and agreed to it.

The night before my party was my birthday dinner with Mom and Dad. I

was on the phone with Alice as I was getting ready for dinner, I was telling

her how excited I was about my party. I heard the doorbell ring, Uncle and

Aunty Lim must be here.

"I have to go, Alice, bye for now."

" Bye Nat, love you! Have fun tomorrow!"

I hung up the phone, adjusted my dress a little and went downstairs. "Happy

Birthday!" everyone yelled in unison as I walked down the stairs. Aunty and

Uncle brought Jamie along as usual. Jamie and I are cousins but we don't

really bond well, partially because of our age gap but also because of how

shy he is. Mom made my favourite ricotta and spinach ravioli, it tasted

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exquisite, as usual. Jamie didn't say a word during dinner, he ate so stilly it was as if he wanted to be unnoticeable. Aunty asked me what I was doing

the day after " I heard your Mom said you had plans of your own tomor-

row? You sure have grown up!". " Yeah! I'm having a sleepover at Alice's

house, she's a friend." I explained while taking my last bite of that delicious

ravioli. I tried making conversation with Jamie so that he'd feel more in-

cluded. "Hey Jamie, how old are you again?" I asked even though I knew

the answer. "I'm eight", he mumbled. " Wow, you're getting so big so fast!"

I expressed, but Jamie ignored it.

The night ended with kakak clearing the dinner table. I gave everyone a hug

goodbye except Jamie, who was already waiting by the door with his arms

crossed.

It was the day of the party, I packed my things and went downstairs. I told

Mommy that I was leaving to Alice's place, but the truth was that Ron was

waiting for me on the next street. I gave Mom a kiss on the cheek before I

left, Daddy was busy in his office so I didn't interrupt. I got into Ron's Mer-

cedes and chucked my bags into the back seat. He took me back to his place

before the party so I'd have time to get ready.

I sat on the floor of his room in front of the full-length mirror while I did my

make up. Ron was laying on his bed explaining to me how clubs worked

and what to expect. I don't remember much of what he said because I was

busy making sure every inch of my face looked flawless. I changed into my

little black Givenchy dress that I found in the back of my closet, I could al-

ways count on a little black dress for every occasion, it's a girl's best friend.

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Ron's personal driver, Syaffi, drove us to Kyo. My friends from school were already waiting outside when I got there. I remember the music being so

loud I could hear it from outside the club. Regina and Ching came to me

with gifts, they gave me hugs and kisses on the cheek. The rest of them were

waiting right in front of the doors, excited to get in. As promised, Ron got

us in hassle-free. Drinks were all on me that night, I took my first sip and

instantly felt the rush, I loved it. Soon enough, we were all having fun danc-

ing on the dance floor. The music and the dancing made my heart pound,

we were laughing and singing, we were happy. We danced until close to 3

a.m., and then we heard screaming. Police barged into the doors of the club

with flashlights, they shoved us and put us all into a line. My friends and I

were separated, I was worried but a part of me remained calm knowing that

Ron's got my back. I saw them grabbing my friends by the arm and drag-

ging them to the side, one of the policemen shined his flashlight on me "IC

please miss" he demanded. I rummaged through my purse and handed him

my identification card, he immediately grabbed my arm and put me with my

other friends. I started to get worried " Ron! Ron!" I shouted, trying to get

him to realize I was in trouble. Ron saw me from the other side of the room,

but he turned away and walked out the doors. The police took my friends

and me to the station, when we got there, they asked for our parents' num-

bers. I was hesitant to give them mine because I knew how much trouble I'd

be in. I asked the policeman in charge how much money it would take for

me to walk away, thinking it wouldn't be an issue. He looked at me as his

eyes widened, grabbed me by the arm and shoved me into the lock-up cell.

"You're not getting out until your parents arrive", he yelled. I agreed

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to give them my parents' numbers, I asked the authorities for my cell phone to check their numbers in my contacts. As I wrote their numbers down, I

thought about how much trouble I was going to be in, frantically trying to

come up with solutions to lessen the damage.

20 minutes later, I heard my parent's voices approaching my lock-up cell.

The policeman unlocked the cell, and I followed behind him and my par-

ents to the counter. I collected my belongings and went home. The car ride

home was awfully quiet, it scared me that I got caught, but Mom and Dad-

dy's reaction scared me more. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. Daddy looked at me

through the rearview mirror but neither of them said a word.

When we got home Mom asked me to go to their room for a chat. I went

upstairs prepared for a long lecture from my parents. Instead what I got was

far worse than a long-winded lecture. Daddy looked at me and stated "Na-

tasha, you have a week to pack your things, you are no longer welcome in

this home. We have tried for so long to make you a better person, but this

is the last straw. We've seen how you treat Kakak and Hairul, Mom and I

both think it's time for you to learn some responsibility and gratitude." I

was completely and utterly shocked at what my parents had just told me.

How could they just ask their daughter to leave? Aren't parents supposed

to be there for you through everything? At this point, I realized there was

no point arguing back, it would just add more fuel to the fire and that was

something I definitely did not want at that moment. As I walked out of my

room, from the corner of my eyes, I saw my parents fuming with a hint of

disappointment in their eyes. But as soon as I walked out of the door, I real

_165_

ized that I don't need my parents to support me. "You wouldn't be able to go a day without me. You love me too much, I'm your only daughter!" Natasha

shouted with full of ego in her voice.

The streets of KL were crowded, people shoving each other, the sound of

cars honking and the smell of sweat mixed with luxurious fragrances. I

stood outside Chanel, looking at all the dresses I couldn't afford, I felt a tear

roll down my face.

I strolled back to my tiny flat, I passed a row of shops on the way back. I saw

a cafe that reminded me of the Good Batch, the scent of the coffee and the

similarity of the interior made me feel like I was me again for a split second.

I saw a poster on the glass panel, "Now Hiring", it read. It's no modelling

agency but I needed the money. I walked into the cafe, the little bell above

the door rang, turning the baristas and waiters' attention to me, "Hi, you

guys are hiring?" I asked politely. The barista handed me a form and a pen

from under the counter, "fill that up" he said. I sat on the edge of the chair

as I filled up the form. When I was done I passed it back to him, he took

it without making any eye contact, put it back under the counter and said:

"we'll get back to you". I left the cafe hoping this "we'll get back to you"

was true, I needed the money but what made me want to be there was how

much it reminded me of the Good Batch.

It's Monday evening, I need to pay rent by tomorrow and The Good Batch

hasn't called me back. I'm nowhere closer to getting money than I was 2

days ago. I looked at my black and pink Chanel dress behind my door. I re

_166_

alized what I had to do. I took it off the hanger, held it close to my chest and took a deep breath in, folded it, put it in my tote and headed out the door. I

made my way to a vintage shop I used to shop in. The lady at the counter

thought I was there to shop "Natasha! I haven't seen you in so long!" she

said in an excited manner. I smiled while I reached for the dress, "How

much would you take this for?" I asked. "That? That's a rare piece Natasha,

are you sure you want to let it go?" I reluctantly handed it over to her " Yes,

yes I'm sure." I responded. She told me she'd buy it for RM 14,000 " I'll

transfer the money over to you once its authenticity has been confirmed."

She assured. " How soon would that be?" I questioned. " Should be by to-

morrow evening" she stated.

I left the shop with an empty tote filled with nothing but a sense of relief

knowing that I'll be able to make this month and possibly the next few

months' rents, possibly even a few new dresses. But I also felt a sense of

sorrow, letting go of that dress made me realize that my life is different now.

A part of me knew that silk sheets, Chanel dresses and The Good Batch ar-

en't things of the past, I will have my old life back someday.

_167_

_ar_

_P allel Line_

I could never look straight into those genuine yet hollow eyes. I knew Rob-

ert did not want to go through what modern-day society had put him in. I

pondered, what else could I do for him when I'm already so close to getting

into his shoes.

Robert was always alone and was never with anyone ever since I've known

him up until now. He has always been the one person who was constantly

being spurned with scorn and always left behind. As the days go by, life

goes on, changes are being made everywhere but Robert... he never chang-

es, neither does others' unpleasing thoughts of him.

I'm sure Robert never thought that he'd be in the position that he's in to-

day; nobody would want to be in his shoes. Life is tough being an outcast

in society, a rejected individual that is loathed by many with a constant dis-

placement in society. Being special doesn't always mean you're "sunshine

and flowers".

"Woah, I can't believe that Robert is still on his damn headphones! We're

right in the middle of a group discussion but he's just doing his own thing."

"Yeah, tell me about it, he's a good-for-nothing punk. It's no wonder why

everyone hates him so much! He doesn't know the time to be serious for

work meh?"

"Let it go lah, guys, just leave him be. He's a lost cause anyway, do you

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actually think that he'd suddenly go through some sort of a drastic transformation? Just forget about him the next time around and pretend he doesn't

exist, okay?"

"Ugh... Whatever..."

The way that people treat him will always remain unchanged. The same goes

for when he deals with his situations— nothing changes either. It wasn't just

his behaviour but also the pair of vacuous eyes of his, and his same old dark

green jacket over his white shirt that's turning yellow. Everything about

him was a disgrace, inside and out. Regardless of which direction the clock

hands pointed to, people's opinions of him will never sway.

His attitude towards every single obstacle and challenge he faces in his life

will always remain indistinguishable from the one before. How could he

always expect someone to reach out and lend a helping hand each time?

Despite his behaviour, I'm the only one who understands his actions and

behaviour.

Since when did his pathetic life begin? Since the day Robert first entered

our classroom? The day we were assigned to our first task? Or since he was

brought to this very earth? Well, I guess he couldn't escape his destined fate.

It was all meant to be.

Like an arrow released from its bow, the memories of the past pierced

through my mind with an unknown intensity, it brings me back to our pri-

mary school life.

_169_

***School bell rings***

Robert and I were walking through the bustling aisle towards our school

gate, on the way back to our home, or as we would like to call it, our 'Com-

fort Zone'. I've always believed that no one would ever notice us from the

beginning of this aisle all the way till the end of it. There would be people

passing by glancing at us with despise in their eyes, it'll soon disappear too.

I often acted as if nothing was on my mind and I didn't care about the look

in their eyes. The truth is that I cared a lot more than anyone could ever

imagine. I dreamt of being a part of that group of teenagers racing down the

track field recklessly with the wind in my hair. I admired the moments of

hearty laughter and grieving tears in between every friendship. I would even

be envious of the moment as simple as deciding the flavour of the bubble

milk tea with a group of my closest friends. I just wanted to have an ordi-

nary teenage life.

With a sigh, I have to admit the fact that I longed to be like them. To have

more profound interactions and conversations with people I wished to be

with. Getting along with them and transforming myself to be more admira-

ble in this sea of jubilant people. I have been sick and tired of this forlorn

life that no one ever bothered to come across.

"Eh, eh, girls, see, weirdos are meant to be with weirdos"

When will this come to an end?

_170_

"Well Belinda, birds of a feather flock together", "Haha! Dear Giselle, do you want to join the club?", "What? You mean Robert and Joanna?"

"Sorry pals, I think we are good enough."

I can hear every single syllable that came out of their mouths. The group

of girls with their perfect ponytail and manicured nails. They radiate confi-

dence as they speak those mean, mean words. Every sentence within their

conversation has pierced my heart like an arrow that was 6 feet long. I felt

humiliated and embarrassed at the same time. All of my life I've been cat-

egorized as one of a kind with Robert, I often question this situation, yet it

was so ridiculously unreasonable because I never attempted to get out of

my comfort zone. Speaking of my appearance, I am somewhat on par with

Robert. I am used to the humiliations and embarrassment that Robert and

I felt. But how long can I withstand it? I would admit that I am indeed a

self-contradictory person, but why would I think that I deserved all of these

heart-wrenching moments? I need to convince myself that Robert far more

deserves to be disgusted by others than I do.

My eyebrows twitched. Then I took a quick glance at Robert. Sometimes I

actually thought distancing myself from him. We may look like we have a

close relationship with each other, but deep down I know I will never count

him as my 'true friend'. Do I really appreciate his companionship? Or was

I afraid of being alone in a world where no one accepts me for who I am?

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I feared the thought of that being true. Without Robert, I have nobody to call my own. Besides him, there is no one else who will be rushing towards the

canteen thinking of buying me my favourite soy milk while buying a curry

mee for himself. Neither will there be another person that can relate to me

as a victim of being an outcast. There will also no longer be someone that

allows me to express my emotions freely. Frankly speaking, our relation-

ship was based on our fear of being alone, rather than the true meaning of

friendship.

Robert swiftly adjusted his headsets' position. It seems like he did not notice

what is happening out here. Well, forget about it, Joanna. What is Robert ca-

pable of even if he did notice? Nobody ever really cares about his feelings.

As soon as we reached our school gate, Robert turned his head to me. I

thought he would appreciate my decision of choosing him as my partner for

our latest geography project. He should be really grateful for that instead

of taking it for granted. It was not expected that he only left me a sentence,

"Okay, see you, friend".

I folded my arms, eyebrows furrowed. What kind of answer were you ex-

pecting from him, Joanna? You should realise that you will never receive

gratitude from a person that is utterly full of himself. There were countless

moments of me hearing the voice swirling in my mind, whispering " Has he

ever attempted to befriend others?"

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Oh wait, I could recall one.

Robert attempted to befriend the most easy-going person in our class, that

adorable and popular girl with short hair, sitting at the second row, Abby.

Abby was the girl that always got compliments about her eyes. They were

like twin pools of silver, that shone like moonlight on the lake. He thought

that he had a chance to befriend this luminous gemstone. So he decided to

approach Abby. He left his seat, walked towards her direction, and random-

ly whispered to her ear, "I will always keep my eyes on you, Abby". He

then returned back to our seats. Abby then looks in his eyes the same way

everyone else looks at him, puzzled and frightened. She then took a glance

with the same look in her eyes, as if I'm supposed to be looked at in that

strange way.

Some girls from the class next to us walking through the corridor paused,

took a few paces back and glanced through the door, they look disgusted

and shook their heads "Eww, if it was me I would have called the cops!" one

of them spoke, eyes filled with disgust. Few seconds later, I heard their end-

less loud and sharp mocking. Wait a second, they seems to be mocking me

too. I lowered my head down to avoid eye contact with that group of girls.

I've always wished that I could acknowledge the actual reason why we

were considered as the 'weirdos' in everyone's eyes. Robert and I are not

weird, we're just slightly different from others. Others may perceive him as

a freak. But I know that the only reason he approached Abby was to be her

friend, nothing more.

_173_

Technically, there's nothing really wrong with what Robert told Abby. It's just that the majority of people would find it creepy because of the perception they already have of him. Perhaps I am the only one that could under-

stand his actions, but the way he expressed himself is different from how

others make friends. His 'abnormal' is different from the true definition of

'abnormal'. He did not have any disabilities, neither physically, or mentally.

Just that his behaviour is always so unique, so different, so...weird.

"He is the odd one out, do any of the groups care to adopt Robert?" Lecturer

questioned us in a loud voice, that brought me back from my thoughts into

reality.

Everyone was all looking at each other in dismay and at a loss for words.

They were in fear of being the scapegoat. Just as the atmosphere solidified,

we were all waiting for someone to break the silence, I asked under my

breath:

"There isn't any chance that he can be in our group, Joel?"

Joel grinned at me: "Hmm...I think we are good enough. But I don't mind

if you wanted to be in a group with him, just that I don't want to get myself

involved in any possible disasters and dramas."

Those lines sounds familiar, but for this round, I am no longer the victim.

"Joanna, no worries okay?" Dylan's gentle voice coming from behind. "He

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will figure his own way out eventually, don't be too considerate for other people, take good care and focus on yourself more."

I'd rather fall a thousand times for such a gentleman like Dylan. He's built,

muscular, with an almost perfectly symmetrical face. Charming and ener-

getic as usual. He's even more attractive when he starts telling his hilarious

jokes to us, people are more likely to be around him as he will always be the

brightest star among us.

The look in his eyes had made my thoughts more firm than before.

Before others started accepting me, he was the one who brings me comfort

by the tenderness of his words. But he is also another reason why I tend to

avoid Robert more now. Dylan would not be pleased to know if I were to

get any closer to Robert. And this time, I would still like to help Robert, but

the help I offer will no longer be genuine.

In fact, I ask this question out of guilt only because I don't wish to be the

actual reason for him being left out. Pathetically, Joel is definitely not the

only one who tends to avoid Robert. All the other students tried their best to

avoid eye contact with the lecturer out of the fear of having Robert in their

group.

We were given more group assignments from our lecturers since then. Rob-

ert was constantly being avoided by our classmates as expected. Initially, I

felt guilty for not helping him as we used to be close to each other. I never

_175_

thought that he was supposed to be treated poorly by our classmates. As

time goes by, the guilt I felt gradually faded to nothing. I began to classify

him as the only problematic person just like how others did. I even tried to

convince myself that he is indeed kind of a 'weirdo' that everyone accused

him of being. If this is not the fact, then why does everyone tend to stay far

away from Robert? I started to remain silent and ignored him in many ways.

I felt as if my actions were reasonable. " Take good care and focus on your-

self more" these words spoken by Dylan is now a maxim I adhere by.

Thereafter he turned into a dispensable person, nearly invisible. Never a

moment he was being appreciated, nor remembered. His existence did not

matter to anyone else.

"Joanna, remember this weekend we have the last gathering before sem

break ah! You'll be coming right?"

"Hey, of course I will! By the way, thank you for the reminder Tashley."

Will Robert be attending the party?

I dressed up meticulously before attending the party. I shrouded my body

in a pink dress with baby-blue floral prints. Followed by eyeshadow, blush,

lip gloss, making sure not to leave out a single detail. Gazing at myself in

the mirror, the Joanna with her pair of nerdy round shaped glasses, and with

plenty of pimples and scars on both sides of the cheeks were gone without

a trace. I've become someone that Dylan and the world might adore. I love

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being able to look alluring enough to captivate the attention of others, this time with adoration instead of despise in their eyes. I smiled toward the

girl in the mirror, took a look at my watch, picked up my handbag from the

hanger and left home confidently.

I could hear a clear and melodious sound as soon as I pushed through the

glass door of the restaurant, the smell of coffee comes hits me in an instant.

Jazz music meets the evening atmosphere and the coffee-like old acquain-

tances. I looked around, Tashley is a few steps away waving at me. I nodded

my head and stride towards our classmates with confidence.

Everyone attended the party punctually except him. I was hesitant about my

seats here. I was in fear as I don't know if I am still the one that everybody

tends to stay far away from. Unexpectedly, Dylan looked towards me and

patted the empty seat beside him, smiles flickered across my lips, I moved

the chair gently and sat down.

Dylan began the conversation while staring into my eyes, " You look differ-

ent today."

Our class had an amazing time at the party. We even immerse into a conver-

sation until Robert arrived, but no one noticed him. Robert sat alone with

his headphones on in a room full of people. All one of us were chatting and

laughing in groups. No one entered his isolated world within those head-

phones. He didn't bother to greet us as soon as he had stepped foot in the

venue. By the time, Joel had realized that he was sitting alone at the corner

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and soon our conversation revolves around him.

"Oh my God guys, did you even noticed that Robert is right at the corner all

the while, alone?"

"Honestly I didn't notice at all, haha, 'Elsa Queen' needs to get out of his

igloo."

"Aiya, you know right, the headphones are part of his body, have you ever

heard from Joanna that even his mother thinks so, that's why the headphones

were from his mother."

To get close to them, I told them one more secret.

"He is extremely afraid of others opinion about him, which is exactly the

reason why he is always on his headphones. It's true, he told me back in

high school."

The subject switched from him to his family. He was once my best friend,

but right now, I didn't stop them from thinking that way. I choose to swim

with the tide and refused to defend Robert. I didn't expect myself to even

fuel the fire to make them hate him more.

All of a sudden, the whole room falls into a dead silence because of one

loud noise. It is Robert's broken headphones on the ground. His pupils be-

come dilated as his hands quivered.

"One day, you will underestimate me again, and trust me, you will regret it,"

_178_

said Robert.

The room remained silent for a few seconds. Right at that moment, I felt an

inexplicable excitement because I thought that he finally took off his shield

that he holds on to for umpteen years and he finally made up his mind to

defend himself. Robert then picked up the broken pieces of his headphones

that shattered on the ground and walked out of our sight. People chuckled

like it was an uproarious comedy.

"Hahahaha! Walao! What on earth is this fella doing?"

"He gone mad already ah?."

"Oh no...Our Elsa Queen is blowing our minds..."

All of us laughed at his spontaneous actions. None of us felt guilty, except

me. Even if he looked pathetic enough, there's still nobody that would lend

him a hand, everyone, including me. The one who was once his closest

friend was too afraid of being the talk of the night.

Even though Robert remains true to himself, he is still scorned and ignored

by others. I will never want to be like Robert. It is such an embarrassment

to be like him.

"See you in college Joanna!" As night fell, the blue haze of day lifted to re-

veal the stars. I waved back, put on my earphones, turned away and left the

restaurant.

_179_

The gathering ended merrily without his presence. I walked home alone

with exhaustion along the narrow and rugged path. The wind blew strongly

upon my skin. The coldness roused me awake; I felt a kind of alertness that

reminded me of the memory Robert and I shared in this bus stop. Music that

is now playing in my earphones was the song that Robert introduced to me

last December. The rain began to pour in crazy chaotic drops, the gushing

wind carrying them in wild vortices one moment and in diagonal sheets

the next. It runs down my face as a thin layer. Tears flooded my eyes; is it

the raindrops or my tears that make my white canvas shoes wet? How did I

become who I am now? I begin to be more self-centred, I am no longer re-

volted against injustice and always avoid getting involved in other people's

quarrels. What made me put my own reputation and advantages a priority?

Wasn't I to be blamed for putting myself before anything else in this cruel

society? I am on my own, that's the law of the jungle. Despite knowing the

truth, why are my eyes still glimmered with watery tears, what am I doing

with this sadness?

The semester break that every student has been waiting for had officially

started. After Robert's outburst, the relationship between me and Dylan got

closer. I buried all of the memories of Robert from that night.

I laid down on the bed after a refreshing shower. I heard a notification sound

coming from my phone at the corner of my desk. I picked the phone up

hurriedly, my hair still wet, wrapped in a towel. Taking a closer look at my

phone, I was disappointed for a while— it was just a promotion message

from telecom. It's been half an hour since he last replied to my message.

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Suddenly there was another notification sound: he finally replied to me!

"Hey, Jo! Sorry, I was busy doing my stuff just now, what are you doing?"

I was looking forward to his next question. Is he going to ask me out on a

date to the latest on showing romance movie? I've heard plenty of positive

reviews on that movie, I just told him about that movie yesterday in the

midst of our conversation.

I was filled with joy. I could even feel my heartbeat, every single pound in

my chest. It was beating faster than usual. That's the feeling that I never had

in my entire life.

"I just finished showering. What's up, Dylan?"

"Hmm nothing much, just wanted to know how's things going on between

you and Robert?"

Why is Dylan asking about me and Robert out of nowhere? My heart fell

faster than a loaf that was removed from the oven too soon. I replied Dylan,

" Nothing special, we stopped talking to each other, I just don't feel like

having any acquaintance with people like him anymore." I was actually un-

certain about these words that just came out from my mouth.

"I knew it. As long as your emotions are not bothered by him. It's such a

relief to hear this from you, Jo."

_181_

"Oh yeah, the gang and I will be watching the latest showing of 'Love Sto-ry' this coming Friday, would you like to come along?"

My heart skips a beat when I heard this.

"Sure, Dylan. See you next Friday."

The irritating blaring of the small alarm clock jarred me out of my peaceful

sleep. I used to be so annoyed by the alarm, but surprisingly I feel so happy

about it today. It feels so great to be back at college. What coloured outfit

will Dylan be wearing today?

A new semester begins. The first lecture of the semester is from a new lec-

turer of the subject Writing for Different Media. As expected, the worst

session of a new semester, self-introduction, it's inevitable. I guess the look

in people's eyes when I used to introduce myself will always be my worst

nightmare. It was Robert's turn to introduce himself, laughter gradually van-

ished, I can clearly hear everyone else's criticisms about him. Robert stands

up slowly, still with his headphones on. I did not turn my head around, I

could only be observing him from my side view. As the criticisms getting

louder, he seems to be dodging his eyes, the silence that followed seemed

unnatural.

"Still that same old Robert we have here huh."

"Didn't he have that thing called 'self-consciousness' ?"

"True. Why does he always need to be so stubborn at putting his headphones

on while answering questions from other people?"

Unexpectedly, Robert speaks, "Do you ever mean the things you say? When

_182_

you say I've disgusted you, do you mean that? When you called me worth-

less, a waste of space, is that what you really see in me?"

I noticed Robert's trembling hands. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold,

hard. that pair of white headphones reflecting the dazzling light. Class-

mates' criticisms continued with irony. I glance over at Robert's face, still

smouldering underneath his stony expression. Fires of fury and hatred were

smouldering in the small narrowed eyes. Fists clenched, frowning. "Hey

Robert, calm down, put your headphones back and go back to your seat."

Dylan was trying to ease the situation with a soft and gentle tone. Out of a

sudden, I could feel a blast of wind went through, Robert stepped forward,

reaching for Dylan and seized him tightly by the collar aggressively. Dylan

who was unable to dodge was soon being grasped in Robert's hands. His

screams echoed through the closed door, filling the silence with burning

flames of self-loathing. Everyone tensed. "Robert! What are you doing?"

It's too heavy to witness them quarrelling. I just hope that Robert could stop

his impulsive and embarrassing actions.

Robert withdrew his hand from Dylan and crept backwards after he heard

me shouting. He gasped. Turned his head towards me. I felt the hollowness

in his eyes, again. His eyes turned from me to my classmates,

"There comes a day when you were fatigued of pleasing each other blindly,

you are nothing better than me."

"Stop it, Robert, they did not say anything harsh about you." I defended

them unconsciously, tried to be more firm about my attitude to disguise my

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guilt, I know what I've expressed was not true.

"Do you really think that I heard nothing all the while?"

He placed his headphones down and walked away with his subtle words.

I moved forward, picked his iPod up from Dylan's desk. I was entirely

shocked at the playlist, it was... empty. All this time he was not listening to

any music? Did he hear every judgemental sentence about him? Look what

have we done to him so far. I did not wish to drive the situation beyond the

point of no return. I went to search for Robert, but it seemed like the dis-

tance between us is too far away.

"Robert, wait! Don't go."

He turned his head back slowly, he looked pale and unnerved under the

harsh light at the aisle, looking straight into my eyes and said, "Joanna,

you've changed. We used to be so close, but why had you stopped acting

like who you used to be?" "People are poison, Robert. I thought you'd have

learnt that by now."

"If you still decided to be the odd one, I'm sorry, I think I may not be able

to help you out too."

"Help me out? What did you helped so far? You're just a cold-blooded by-

stander."

I felt ashamed for a second, but I raised my head up firmly next. "I did noth

_184_

ing wrong, the world itself is cruel, you just have to accept this fact."

"Joanna, I still hope that we can be friends like we used to be." He looked

extremely sincere. There was cold sweat on my palms, "But Robert, I am

never going back."

"Alright, my bad. I'm sorry for lashing out for it." He turned around and left

me standing alone at the aisle. As much as I tried to hold it in, the pain came

out like an uproar from my throat in the form of a silent scream. The beads

of water started falling down one after another, without a sign of stopping. I

lost Robert. I lost myself too. From the day I've chosen a different path from

him and decided to swim with the tide, I've already lost both.

After that, all of us had graduated from college. None of us had come across

Robert since then. But I've met a few people who are just like him, all

around our daily life, always unnoticed, almost invisible.

They actually exist. Just exist.

Perhaps us and people like them will always be like parallel lines; so much

in common, but it's a shame that they will never come together.

_185_

_he Journey Of Love_

_T_

It's one of those slow, dreadful nights again on the streets of Bukit Bintang.

Hundreds of people walk past my stall but none even bother to stop and

look. Even if they did, I can feel the judgment in their eyes... Is my art not

good enough for their sophisticated minds to gaze upon? It is now 168 hours

without a single art sold. What the hell. Am I really going back to my girl-

friend empty-handed again? She always said it was alright but deep down,

I know behind those comforting words, she's worried just like I am of what

it's going to be like in the future. We could barely even afford dinner last

night, the waiter felt pitiful and was kind enough to allow us to underpay.

Day by day, it's practically us living off of her paycheck which isn't even

much, to begin with.

As I reached home, I was surprised to hear the sound of kitchen utensils

banging around from the back of the house. What was happening there?

Fearing a thief may have broken in, I was about to dash into the house when

the doorknob began to twist and the door opened. I was greeted by the sweet

aroma of freshly cooked tomato sauce and an even sweeter smile from my

beautiful girlfriend, Jacintha.

"Hey, what's the occasion babe?" I asked as I gave her a quick hug and a

sigh of relief.

"Well, a friend of mine is coming over to have dinner with us. He's a big-

_186_

time art critique, I think you guys will get along nicely, and he may even be willing to help you sell your art better!" she replied enthusiastically.

I could only crack a smile on my face, but only barely. Did she not have con-

fidence in my art at all? Damn it, why am I even thinking that way? She's

my girlfriend for Christ's sake, of course, she's going to have my back!

Negative thoughts aside, I guess she just has nothing but good intentions.

"Where'd you get the money to buy all these ingredients?" I asked.

"Ah babe, I forgot to tell you again didn't I? I got a raise in my paycheck!

We'll be eating a little better from now on," she happily declared.

Wow, even Jacintha is progressing with her life. What the hell am I doing

then? All of these negative thoughts came flooding in all of a sudden, leav-

ing me to feel distraught at how miserable my life has been for the past

couple of weeks. Just as I felt like I was about to break down and cry, I felt

a peck on my cheek.

"Hey, you okay babe?" Jacintha asked with a worried look.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it. What time's your friend coming over

for dinner?" I asked while rubbing my face.

Just as I asked, the doorbell rang. Ding dong! Jacintha rushed over to the

door to open it and was greeted by a fine-looking lad with a rather familiar

_187_

face. He was tall, had good features and a man bun. He wore an earthly colored green shirt paired with some ripped jeans. I walked over to the door as

he greeted me with a pleasant smile on his face.

"Hey pal, it's been a while! Remember me?" he asked with enthusiasm in

his voice.

Pal? Who is this guy? He had a rather strange yet familiar accent. He sound-

ed as if he was a British born Chinese who grew up in Malaysia. I carefully

observed and examined him but I couldn't place my finger on who this per-

son was. I can't blame myself though, I can barely remember what I had for

breakfast this morning!

"It's me, Max! Max Chan from art class!" he exclaimed in his eccentric ac-

cent.

Then it hit me like a train. This man standing right in front of me was none

other than Max Chan, that perfect art student who all the teachers loved and

praised. The guy who got his artwork showcased at all of the art exhibits we

had when we were young. He looked so different, I could hardly recognize

him.

"Max Chan? Oh my god, how have you been? It's been so long!" I replied,

still baffled that I'm speaking to Max from art class. The last time I saw him

was probably 13 years ago, when we were 12!

_188_

"I've been doing great, Edward. So much has changed in my life ever since the last time we saw each other," he replied with a smile. Life must have

been going well for him.

"That's really good to hear. How do you know Jacintha if I may ask?" I

asked.

"Oh, she works at the bakery I go to every day, the bread there is a-mazing.

We started talking and when she told me that Edward Chai is her boyfriend,

I couldn't believe it! What a coincidence am I right?" he exclaimed.

We chatted and had a great time reminiscing on the past over freshly cooked

pasta for dinner with a side of cream spinach and some bread rolls from Ja-

cintha's bakery. There was so much for us to catch up on, we haven't met

each other ever since we graduated from art class in primary school back

when we were 12. Apparently, he's had a lot going for him in his life, be-

coming a successful painter before becoming one of Malaysia's big-time

art critiques. I envied him in a good way. At least he doesn't have to worry

about putting food on the table for his loved ones, nor is he depending on

his partner's income to live out his life comfortably. Just as I was pondering

on this thought, Max asked that one dreadful question.

"How's your art coming along?"

At that moment, the feeling of shame and failure dawned upon me. I was so

afraid to tell him the truth, fearing that he might look down on me like

_189_

everyone else. I finally replied to him after much hesitation.

"It's been tough man," I sighed. "None of my art are selling. In fact, it's

been more than a week since I last sold something. I've heard criticism after

criticism and I'm trying my best to adapt, but I still don't understand why

they aren't selling."

Max looked at me with a look that I have not seen in a very long time, a

look of compassion. It wasn't that judgemental look that I normally get and

feared so much. After what seemed like hours, he smiled and gave me a pat

on my back while looking at me in the eye.

"Tell me, Edward, what is love to you? Not what you think other people will

perceive love as, I want your perception of love, what is it to you?" he asked

in a tone that sounded as if he was talking to a child.

I stood there feeling confident that I was ready to answer him right away.

Then I thought about it and slowly dig deep into the weight that the question

held, I was left blank with no answer, Max looked at me with a smirk on

his face, he knew he had hit the right spot with the right question. My blank

facial expression said it all.

'These are some of the questions I asked myself, I had to make some big

life changes including breaking up with my ex, but that's a story for anoth-

er time. My point is, we as artists need to answer the deepest questions for

ourselves so that when we paint, it's our deepest and most honest feelings

_190_

being splattered, drawn and painted onto canvases turning into this thing we call art but in reality it's just another external expression of our inner self on

empty canvases." Max exclaimed.

"You know what? I'll give you time to think about this, don't you worry. In

fact, I'm heading off to an art convention in Paris tomorrow and I'll be back

in a couple of days. Until then, why don't you take this time to go on this

journey, it'll be tough but I know you'll find your answer?" Max comforted

me as he placed a hand on my shoulders, with a comforting look on his face.

When Max left and I finally had some time to think to myself, his question

kept lingering in my mind.

What is love? What is love? Shouldn't this be like some elementary ques-

tion? Why can't I answer it? I mean for crying out loud I have a girlfriend

and I don't even know what love is?

In the midst of my thoughts going wild and my brain is in a total mess, Ja-

cintha came and embraced me.

"You've got this,'' she said calmly.

Do I deserve her? I can't even explain love and I have the most loving per-

son in the whole wide world beside me, what are the odds? I wonder what's

going through her mind right now, would she be worried that I couldn't

answer the question? I'm already burdening her with the rent and stuff, I'm

_191_

just weighing her down and being baggage aren't I?

"I'm sorry." I stammered, "I'm just holding you down, I'll understand if

you want to leave this, I mean think about it, I can't even answer what's,

love? Even a 12-year-old could do that." I added

"I'm here 'til the end, Ed. I think you know what love is, I think, deep down

you already know the answer. Everyone has to go through this journey of

their own to answer the deepest questions in life. Stop comparing yourself

to others, I love you for who you are! And I'll support you till the very end,"

she comforted.

I quickly slid off my chair and gave her a tight hug. This was really what I

needed to get started on this journey. Someone who would love this failure

of a man, pushing him outside his comfort zones. I really am blessed.

I stayed up all night just rambling through my old paintings and old jour-

nals, scavenging through what my younger self thought of what love was.

Digging through my old journals, I was reminded that there were two signif-

icant moments in my life where I could genuinely say that was love to me.

One of it was when my mom was going through chemotherapy. Even when

she was quarantined, my dad took every opportunity he had to be by her

side physically and emotionally through it all, all the way till she passed.

That was a really tough time but seeing my dad's actions made it a little

more 'bearable'.

_192_

Looking back and putting myself in the shoes of my younger self, I started to ponder and embrace all my emotions; sadness, grief and even joy. Maybe

my definition of love hasn't changed at all? This journey is going to make

me dive deeper into my emotions. It's not going to be easy, but I knew deep

down it'll all be worth it.

The next morning I got up and brought Jacintha along with me to a place. A

place where I can say I first defined what love was, the park in Klang town.

I used to go there a lot with my family but haven't been back there since we

moved to KL.

While driving to the park we passed by a familiar road; the trees, the bumpy

roads. Nothing has changed. I even drove past the same stall with the same

aunty who I used to buy pisang goreng from when I was young.

"Things in Klang don't change do they?" I chuckled

After parking the car we walked straight onto the path. The crunching of

the dried leaves took me back to the time where I would race my dad to

see who reached the park first and he would always let me win. He would

always reward me with pisang goreng when we went home. We continued

walking but my eyes began to tear up. Man, I didn't expect to feel this much

this quick.

We walked to the old swing where my mom and I used to go to all the time.

_193_

It looked like it was in horrible condition, no longer safe for anyone to sit on now. I still remember how my mom always refused to push me harder the

fear that I'll go too high and eventually fly off the swing. She always cared

so much for all of us.

While reminiscing on the past Jacintha grabbed hold of my hand and gave

me the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen.

"You alright?" she asked.

"Yea, just a lot of memories coming through right now," I replied.

"It's okay, take your time, but I'm really glad we got to do this together,"

she affirmed.

"There's just one last place I wanted to see in this park. Come on, it'll be a

quick one." I insisted.

However, this was the one place in the park where I actually didn't want to

go to, but I knew I had to face it. It was a small hut near the lake, the real

reason why I really didn't want to come here was that it's the place where

I heard my parents had a big fight. It wasn't their typical bickers and ar-

guments because at 9 years old, I heard the word divorce for the first time

coming out my parent's mouth. I was confused, I didn't know what it was,

but I knew this would haunt me for a long time. All of a sudden this happy

childhood place turned into a painful memory. Like a knife permanently

scarring me for life.

_194_

As we approached the hut, my hands began to tremble. Flashbacks started

to fill my mind. I felt as if I could still hear what they were arguing about.

They didn't know I was there, I was a young boy, cooling back tears as he

watched his dad cursed at his mom and her returning it with a tight slap to

the face. This went on for about 5 minutes until they spotted me peaking.

Unknowingly, I began to tear up at the sight of the hut. Jacintha grasps onto

my hand again and hugged me.

"I'm here for you. You need to let go, you need to move on." she encouraged

Maybe she's right? I've been so caught up in not progressing in life, I hav-

en't addressed the issues that have held me all these years. I stood silent for

a while before taking a deep breath and whispering to myself

"I'm letting this go."

It felt as if there was a heavy burden lifted off my shoulders. It was strong,

almost as if it was physically weighing me down.

"I'm proud of you. And you know, you will still have wounds from the past,

everyone does, but through this journey, you can finally allow yourself to

heal from it." she comforted as the tears kept rolling down my face.

I soon realised that what I thought was just a philosophical question has set

_195_

me on this journey. A journey that requires me to take action. This wasn't easy, but I love everything that was happening. It didn't feel like I was doing

this for my art anymore. It was as if the universe itself is setting me on this

journey to show me the darkest parts of me.

We went back into the car in silence, but it wasn't the awkward type of si-

lence, no. This silence was comforting, it was peaceful. Jacintha continued

comforting me by holding my hand all the way back to the car. For some

reason, the returning journey felt longer than it took coming here. We got

into the car and I continued bawling my eyes out. This wasn't tears of sor-

row, this was tears of joy and freedom.

"Where do you want to go to next?" she asked.

I just smiled and said, "It's a surprise, but you'll be familiar with it."

Jacintha began to stare at me with a curious look on her face. She was the

type of person who didn't enjoy surprises.

"I'll give it to you this time, but I ask one thing, don't give me a heart attack

like your last surprise!" she joked.

We took about a 40-minute drive back to KL, Jacintha fell asleep on the way

back. I felt exhausted, mentally and physically, but the excitement of the

next place we were heading to kept me awake.

_196_

We finally reached, it was an old shop lot that was recently renovated for a new hipster cafe. But beside it was an old small bakery. This was the bakery

that Jacintha used to work at and also where we first met. I gently tapped on

her shoulders to wake her up. When she opened her eyes, her tired expres-

sion lit up. I could see the immense joy in her face.

"Oh my god, I haven't been back here in ages!" she screamed.

We both got down and Jacintha rushed into the bakery, hoping to see her old

colleagues and bosses. I stood outside staring at the signboard of the bakery.

'Perpetual Pies, Best Pies in KL' it read. They indeed were the best.

I looked through the glass window and saw Jacintha catching up with her

friends. The excitement they all had to see each other once again was in-

fectious. Her joy brought me joy. Just as I was admiring her I had another

flashback of the time I first laid eyes on her. She was so beautiful, with that

bright smile of hers, rosey cheeks and braided hair. I was so mesmerised by

her beauty. I remember myself building up the courage to walk into the shop

to buy pies with the little money I had, just so I could have an excuse to talk

to her. Well safe to say that was the best RM15 I ever spent on a pie.

"Best pie in KL indeed," I chuckled to myself.

To think of it, I really was at my lowest. I had no money, no job and no fu-

ture. She really is crazy for loving me.

_197_

"Okay la, this surprise not so bad, quite good ah!" she bubbled.

We got back into the car, and I had to ask this question.

"Why me? Why out of all the people in the world, you chose an artist who

had no money, no job and definitely no stable future?" I questioned

She looked at me a little shocked by the question. Still, she gathered her

thoughts and gazed back into my eyes

"I chose you because of who you were, and I choose you now because of

who you are now. You may not see it, but when I look at you, I see beyond

the struggles and hardships. When I got to know you, I saw a brave young

man who believed in his passions and wasn't afraid, and that is exactly the

same man I am looking at today." promised Jacintha. "Now no more ques-

tions, where are we heading next?" she asked

"We have one last stop to go to, and this is probably the toughest. We're

going back to my dad's place." I said

Going back to the old house I was scared, I was trembling with fear. It's

been so long since I last saw him. Will he think that I've abandoned him?

What if this is a waste of time. No! It's not, I've come so far, I really need

to do this.

I got down from the car and asked Jacintha to follow behind me just in case.

_198_

We approached the front door of my old house. The wooden floorboards

squeak with every step we took. Almost as if they were telling me this was

a bad idea. No! It's just my mind justifying why I shouldn't do this.

I knocked on the door.

Thum, thum, thum

"Coming!" a voice shouted from inside.

The door opens to reveal a stout man in his early 60s, wearing a casual t-shirt

and pants that don't appear to fit him. I could barely recognise him after all

these years, especially with that unkempt beard of his. He had a surprised

expression on his face, I couldn't really tell if it was in a good or bad way.

"Hey dad, it's been a while," I greeted him, trying to look as confident as I

could.

"Son... wh--what are you doing here?" he stammered.

"I've come to see you actually, about something," I muttered. "Uh, this is

my girlfriend, Jacintha. Jacintha, meet my dad." I added.

He observed Jacintha from head to toe and shook her hand before inviting

us in. "Well, come on in, it's freezing out here," he chuckled.

I stepped into the house as a wave of nostalgia hit me. Memories of this

_199_

place start rushing through my head, everything from my childhood days,

when we used to play catch in the backyard when mom used to always read

bedtime stories to me... until she passed away.

"So what brings you back here after so long? Come for money again? Well,

you're out of luck because I'm not doing too well myself as you can see,"

he sneered.

"Look Dad, I'm here because I want to talk to you. I know I haven't been

the best son and I've been avoiding you for the past couple of years, but I'm

here hoping that you'll forgive me and all I really want to do is reconnect

with you and ask you something that's been bothering me" I expressed.

He looked at me, shocked by what I had just said. There was a pause. He

needed some time before he could reply to me.

"Very well... what is it that you want to ask me?" he asked

"When mom had had cancer. What made you stay? After all those argu-

ments where you guys literally cursed each other, and bickered every day,

after all those talks of divorce. Why? How? I thought you didn't love mom

anymore, what made you stay till the end?" I questioned while my eyes be-

gan to tear up.

When I looked back up, he peered into my eyes. I could see him tearing up

too which I hadn't since mom passed.

_200_

"The truth is, I never stopped loving her. We may have had fights, arguments and even cursed at each other but that's the journey of love sometimes. It's

not all butterflies and sunshine, love is tough. After everything I can say

confidently, I never stopped. We had our highs and lows in the marriage but

through the lowest of lows, I stayed present. That's love. Being present in

the darkest times, especially the darkest times. It's beyond feelings, emo-

tions and even pain. These are all just part of the journey when you really

love someone."

The moment Dad finished my heart sank. All this time questioning if their

marriage was even real or worth it, I focused so much on the emotions and

events that had happened that I couldn't look past that and see that through

it all, Dad was always present for my mom and for me as well.

We both got up and hugged each other tightly. At that moment I could feel

my brokenness being fixed and glued back together. All my memories of my

mom and dad fighting that scarred me I now see in a different light.

While we were still hugging, I looked up at Jacintha who was also tearing

up. I admired her because she was the answer I was looking for all along. If

love is about being present then she represented it best.

"I promise I'll come back more dad. Thank you, Dad! I love you." I ex-

pressed while walking out the door.

_201_

"And I love you too. Just like your mom, I'll always be here for you. I'll always be present." he replied

I kissed him on the cheek before Jacintha and I headed back to the car. While

walking to the car I picked up my phone and quickly rang Max.

"Hello?" Max answered.

"Hey Max, it's Edward. I've got my answer! I know it took me a while, but

I know what love is."

_202_

_For the ones in search of identity..._

_203_

_ne eye open_

_O_

As he stepped out of The Last Bean Cafe, he tried to reflect on the words

Patrick had uttered earlier. He strolled along the sidewalk to find the nearest

bus stop. The bus stop was covered in flyers for the upcoming elections.

Many people could be heard arguing about which politician is better. The

candidates were polar opposites to one another. One was a religious man

who believed that the country was losing its true beliefs while the other

was a liberal who believed that the country was too reserved socially which

causes most of the inequality that happens in the country. Aden thought to

himself, "I only believe in what I see, and I like what I see."

. . . . . .

Aden grew up poor with Catholic parents. He had a rough childhood but

regardless of how tough the times got, he always found himself in Church.

He saw his parents suffer under the hand of powerful men and saw the

world as a dark godless place. His mom always told him, "Ask and you will

receive, God never fails."

Nights that he spent laying on his side feeling like he could eat a horse

between two bread vans, his mom would say "God is just testing us. God

always has a reason." Aden could never understand that reasoning. He jug-

gled studies with working two jobs and as he worked those jobs, he cursed

God for the struggles he faced every day.

Every Sunday, as he walked to Church with his family, dusting his torn and

_204_

tattered clothes, he would observe the others that were enjoying their coffee in cafes, going to the cinemas and casually spending their day without any

obligations at all. He'll watch them almost in envy, enjoying their Sunday

as he walked into a church all solemn and gloomy. He found it harder and

harder to put his trust in a man in the sky that refuses to help him and his

family live a better life. That distrust accumulated 'til, on the day he got

Confirmed, he stormed out of Church, stood right in front of his entire fam-

ily and the entire congregation and shouted "I'm never coming back here

again! All you sheep can keep at it but I'm gone!"

Fed up with the self-pity and empty promises, he abandoned the Church.

He got a grip on life and worked his way up the ladder to become a law-

yer. Not only did he practice the law, but he also started up a large law firm

called Tee & Partners. He switched out his torn and tattered clothes for

fashionable designer three-piece suits. He no longer had to walk from place

to place. Instead, he was now chauffeured in a shiny new S-Class. But one

day, his blissful rise-to-success was about to take a turn for the worst. In the

middle of a heated court case, his speech begins to slur and his vision hazy

from all the double vision. He then stumbled his way back to his seat but

collapsed on the way there. He felt the entirety of his left side of his body

go numb as he lay there in a daze. It was then diagnosed that the great Aden

Tee was left disabled by a stroke.

Doctors told him that there was nothing he could do to recover. Despite the

odds, he was still determined to find a solution. He searched for a second

opinion and continued seeking help for two whole years. Even after

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receiving treatments from world-renowned physicians, he couldn't recover

from his stroke. Right before he gave up on finding a solution, a colleague

recommended him to a physiotherapist that many of his friends and rela-

tives had gone to and was cured of all their ailments. His name was Dr Pat-

rick Han who worked in a hospital in Uptown Damansara called Grandview

Hospital. As soon as he got the recommendation, he called Patrick's office

and made an appointment.

A week later, Aden showed up to his appointment. As he entered the con-

sultation room, he caught a glance of a crucifix hanging above his desk but

made nothing of it. Patrick asked him to take a seat and asked him what the

problem was. Aden explained exactly what had happened and expressed

all the trials and tribulations he went through trying to find a solution to his

predicament. Patrick put his hand on his shoulder and told him the proce-

dure was going to start. Confused, Aden just sat there and wondered what

he meant. Patrick closed his eyes and started praying over him.

After the session ended, Aden asked, "Wow, that was quick. What did you

do?"

"I called upon the healing power of God" Patrick revealed.

"GOD?" Aden shouted in protest, "Did they teach you about God in medi-

cal school or did you actually go there to learn modern medicine? Quit with

your delusive perceptions and tell me the truth!"

_206_

"You can choose to believe it or not but I hope you will realize the miracle God has granted you by the time you meet me for your next appointment,"

replied Patrick calmly.

"There is no point in discussing it further, as a matter of fact, I do not think

we'll be needing the next appointment," retorted Aden almost immediately.

Angered with his past and the lack of professionalism the doctor showed,

he stormed out of his office. In all the rage, he absolutely did not realize that

he can actually walk again.

As he got into his car, still livid with Patrick's claims, he told his driver to

drive him straight home.

"You can walk again, sir?" asked his driver, astonished.

"SHUT UP AND DRIVE! Yeah I can walk again and what about it?" snapped

Aden. "Drop me off here! I'll walk home!"

He got out of the car and made his way to a liquor store, picking out a bottle

of Rittenhouse Straight Rye from the top shelf. All he wanted to do was go

home and drown his conscience in a sea of ignorance.

When he got home, he exchanged the suits for a silk robe and poured

himself a glass of whiskey on the rocks. Kicking his feet up on the coffee

table, he leaned back in his recliner and sipped on his alcohol. To keep

himself occupied, he watched a few episodes of House of Cards while

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pouring himself drink after drink. Soon, he found himself nodding off and decided that it was time to go to bed. He made his way to the room in hopes

to fall asleep, but sleep never came. He couldn't scratch the itch he had

about the whole situation that had happened earlier in the day.

_"How did I get healed? Why am I living in denial? Why am I so_ **angry** _at_

_the fact that something good happened to me? Why?"_

His mind replayed the scenario over and over again but he just couldn't

settle with this conclusion. So, he decided that there was only one thing he

could do to get this weight off his chest. Stumbling out of bed and downing

the last bit of whiskey left in the bottle, he made his way into his kitchen

and grabbed his phone that was sitting on the countertop. The glaring light

of the screen's brightness in the dark made his eyes squint as he struggled

to find Patrick's contact. In the struggle, he dropped his phone and had to

bend over to pick it up. As the moonlight shone in through his large arched

windows, he caught a glimpse of the shadow of his body. It was bizarre. The

shadow of his feet was limped and laid flat on the ground whereas his actual

feet were straight and fine. This phenomenon shook him to the core. In a

cold sweat, he quickly picked up his phone and frantically dialled Patrick's

number. Even though it was an ungodly hour, Patrick picked up the phone.

"Dr Han? I'm so so sorry about what happened earlier today. It was

unprofessional of me to act that way and I didn't even get the chance to

thank you for making me walk again. I still can't comprehend how you did

it but again I truly apologize. I won't lie and give you a song and dance

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way I acted but I would love to meet you and find out more about you and

what it is that you do," apologized Aden. "How does 5 o'clock on Wednes-

day sound? We'll meet at the cafe down the street from the hospital."

Patrick accepted his apology and complied with his invite to meet.

"Oh, and drop the Doctor, just call me Patrick," he said as he hung up the

phone leaving Aden to the darkness of the room, awaiting the date set.

In a blink of an eye, the day has come to meet Patrick. "Where to this fine

Wednesday morning, sir?" inquired his driver.

"The Last Bean Cafe, I'm feeling good today. Put on some Dean Martin,"

Aden said as he shrugged on his blazer and leaned back.

Just as he pulled up to the cafe, he got a call from a good friend of his named

Mr Lim who told him how his son had died in a horrible accident where he

was hit by a car. His heart dropped immediately as he was quite fond of the

boy and had high hopes for him.

With a heavy heart, he walked into the cafe and ordered a cup of Caramel

Macchiato. While collecting his coffee, he glanced over and saw Patrick

sitting down by a bookshelf reading the Bible. He walked over to him and

as he was about to extend his arm out to greet him, his wallet fell out of the

side pocket of his coat. Patrick bent down and helped to pick up Aden's

open wallet. What he couldn't help but notice was an old monochrome

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picture of his family inside the wallet.

"Here, I don't mean to intrude or anything but the photo that you keep in

your wallet, is that your family?" asked Patrick.

Aden paused for a moment, sighed, and said, "Depends on how you define

family. Settle in, I've got a long story to tell you."

Aden then gave him a rundown of his childhood. All the trials and

tribulations that he faced on a day to day basis which greatly contributed

to his decision to drop the Catholic faith and opt for atheism. When he was

done, Patrick took a deep breath and said, "That's heavy. It really is a lot to

take in. But you know, your mom was right about God testing you. I always

believe everything that happens is all part of a plan God had prepared. You

and me sitting here today, is, in fact, something deliberately prearranged by

God. The stroke you had? It was to humble you and bring you back to him.

There is always a purpose in his works."

"A purpose? I just got a call from my friend Mr Lim who informed me that

his son got hit by a car this morning and just like that, he's gone. He was

only eight Patrick. EIGHT! What reason could our oh-so-righteous God

possibly have for taking away the life of an innocent boy like him?"

"That is a question only God can answer. I'm sure there's a good reason

behind it. Christianity and all religions for that matter are more than just the

surface level. Its themes of good and malice, of direction, fortune,

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conciliatory love, equity, benevolence, elegance, recovery, absolution, and immortality in the afterlife resound profoundly inside us. What's more, we

can discover them woven into all the best and most inspiring stories ever

told by people."

Aden looked at him and went, "So I'm meant to just pray that everything

will go fine?"

Patrick then told him about his wife, who had, in fact, converted him from

being an Atheist himself. He said," At whatever point that I was

experiencing distress or had a hard choice to make, she'd tell me, "I'll say

a little prayer for you." This was initially quite irritating to me. It was as if

I'd had my limbs cut off and she was telling me, "Don't stress, I'll get my

non-existent friend to get a few plasters for your massive wound." In time,

be that as it may, I understood that, for her, when she prayed, it came from

her innermost being where she opened herself up to something that he could

not see but could feel. When I got that, it changed the way I felt about it all.

Eventually, as a non-believer, when she prayed over me, I felt warm and

uplifted even though I didn't believe. But soon, with time, I too became a

believer."

"With all due respect, how do you even believe in something you can't see?

I justify my doubts with science and it gives me solid proof but how do you

simply believe in a God yet be so uncertain of so many other things?"

Patrick replied," I think the real question here is why do you believe in

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conciliatory love, equity, benevolence, elegance, recovery, absolution, and immortality in the afterlife resound profoundly inside us. What's more, we

can discover them woven into all the best and most inspiring stories ever

told by people."

Aden looked at him and went, "So I'm meant to just pray that everything

will go fine?"

Patrick then told him about his wife, who had, in fact, converted him from

being an Atheist himself. He said," At whatever point that I was

experiencing distress or had a hard choice to make, she'd tell me, "I'll say

a little prayer for you." This was initially quite irritating to me. It was as if

I'd had my limbs cut off and she was telling me, "Don't stress, I'll get my

non-existent friend to get a few plasters for your massive wound." In time,

be that as it may, I understood that, for her, when she prayed, it came from

her innermost being where she opened herself up to something that he could

not see but could feel. When I got that, it changed the way I felt about it all.

Eventually, as a non-believer, when she prayed over me, I felt warm and

uplifted even though I didn't believe. But soon, with time, I too became a

believer."

"With all due respect, how do you even believe in something you can't see?

I justify my doubts with science and it gives me solid proof but how do you

simply believe in a God yet be so uncertain of so many other things?"

Patrick replied," I think the real question here is why do you believe in

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and made sense to him. Nonetheless, he still explained to him how religious morals were used to keep society civilized back in the day and so they

continued practising it because it was part of their religious practices.

Patrick also agreed with Aden's statement on the importance to challenge

your own beliefs. But, there was one thing that didn't rest easy with

him - Aden's concept of the afterlife.

"You say that atheists will be condemned to hell for eternity while believers

get a free pass into heaven, correct? Well, you would be wrong about that

because my God is a forgiving and understanding God. For the Atheists, he

will judge you based on all the good or bad you have done throughout your

lifetime. He will be just in judging who is and who isn't worthy of

eternal paradise. The religious don't get a free pass at all. They will be

judged equally because, at the end of the day, the mark you leave here on

Earth will be carried forward into the afterlife. Even if I were to step in

your shoes, I'd think religion is just a product of people's fear of death, you

know, the comfort that there will still be life after death contrasted with the

fear of knowing nothing. The difference between you and me is that I've

solidified my belief that since I don't know where it all came from, then

maybe there's a powerful being who made all of it possible. I know you do

too, deep inside, you really really do. I can tell."

This time around, even though Patrick was challenging his lack of belief in

God, Aden didn't feel irked at all. He felt as if he was sitting down having a

conversation with his younger self and it felt good.

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Patrick closed his bible and looked at Aden intensely and asked, "How did your parents feel about you leaving the Catholic church?"

Aden gave a heavy sigh and muttered his way through the heavy topic at

hand. "They never understood why I left the Catholic faith behind. What

baffled me the most was how they were offended by it. As an atheist, I look

at all religions the same, unlike religious people. They were so upset that

I stopped believing in the same God as them but what is the actual reason

behind it? People sit around and argue about whose God is the true God and

whose God is the greatest but isn't it funny that coincidentally everyone

was born into the right religion? What about the Muslim man across the

room or the Jewish lady sitting by the counter? They both swear that their

religion is the true religion and to me, it is only because they were told to

believe so. If I tell you from a young age that fire burns you and snakes are

dangerous, wouldn't me instilling fear into you by telling you, if you don't

pray to a certain God then you would end up in the fires of hell for eternity,

scare you? My family never understood that and I wish they would because

I never meant to lose my family in the process. I loved them and I still do

but it is what it is but I hope someday that will change."

Aden raised his right wrist and glanced over at his wristwatch. Seeing that

it was past 10 in the morning, he realized that he was late for work. "I really

have to run but we should do this again sometime. It opened a lot of doors

for me, made me step in my parents' shoes for a change, see what they see

in me. Again, I apologize for the altercation the other day. I hope this small

talk we had here today would help you understand why I reacted in such a

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way," said Aden.

Patrick got up to shake his hand and replied in a joking manner, "We've been

here for hours! Calling it a small talk would be outright lying to ourselves."

"But, you're right, we really should do this again sometime. Trust me, you

questioning my faith here today has left me desperate to receive answers

that will make my faith stronger," he added and bid farewell to Aden. "I'll

see you around!"

Now, we go back to Aden's trip back to the bus stop.

. . . . . .

We last saw him at the bus stop reflecting on what he had learned from Pat-

rick. He finds that although Christianity can have great effects on people,

he still believes in Atheism as he still prefers evidence more than just faith

or belief. He also does not believe that fate is to be decided by a being of a

higher power. Although he was conflicted with what was said towards him,

he now understands that Christianity helps people in their lives. In times of

need, people turn to God to have a sense of hope in their lives as a means of

faith to ask for healing.

He reflects on this while looking into the posters for the candidates of the

elections. The poster, both with colours schemes that oppose each other,

shows the divide among them. The more liberal-minded politician's poster

was blue in colour and had a drawing of people holding hands together as

it coincides with his mission to bring people together. On the contrary, the

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other poster was one of reds which had a fist with the rosary beads wrapped around the fist with the cross standing out at the tip of the thumb. The font

was a very urgent type, bolded with a black outline. Both supporters were

so different that it was like comparing the dirt to sand. They seem different

but in truth, they all behave the same. Feeling lighter than he'd felt in a long

time, he decided to skip work and opted for a bus ride home instead of his

usual chauffeured ride home.

On the other hand, Patrick, while on his lunch break, contemplated on the

reasoning Aden gave during their informal debate. He feels as if Aden was

an individual who was lost and deep down he blames it to the fact that the

prayers he gave during his younger days didn't do anything to him. Patrick

wanted to show him that Christianity was more than that. That religion was

more than that. He whispered a small prayer in Aden's name so that hope-

fully Aden's life would be better.

He then set off for lunch at a local Kopitiam nearby. The Kopitiam was

filled with different sounds - sounds of chatter, the clanging of pots and

pans and more. Although there was no sight of an empty seat in the entire

store, Patrick waited patiently and continued to look for one. Eventually, he

found one and ordered his food without any time to waste. As he waited, the

thought of Aden's words kept popping up in his head. He couldn't forget

Aden's words even if he tried. Patrick then consciously decided to try and

understand what he said. His face began to look more studious and to others,

he looked stressed. Patrick, remembering Aden's words, had mixed feelings

towards his words. Although he didn't believe it, he understood some of the

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statements that he made. Patrick felt that some of his words were true and that his faith was challenged. Patrick knew deep down that throughout time,

humans have used religion to their own selfish needs. Even the pope at one

point was the most corrupt figure during the Dark Ages. Pope Benedict, for

example, was known for the attempt of selling the papacy to the highest

bidder. With all this, Patrick felt his faith starting to waver but a wave of

tranquillity beheld Patrick soon after and all these thoughts were silenced.

He took a deep breath and told to himself, "These were the actions of men

and not God's will. I will not follow the word of man but of the words of

God".

He realized that God would be with him and that was all it ever mattered.

Patrick knew many people that had their lives changed through God. With

his faith stronger than ever, Patrick finally eats his warm noodles. 

## **20 Years Later**

Aden, slightly older and now a married man, lived with his two wonderful

sons aged 10 and 12. His hair was now slightly grey, faded in with black.

His face was slightly wrinkled and his voice deeper. He wore black, thick-

framed glasses due to his slowly deteriorating eyesight. After all those years

of being by himself, he decided to settle down and have a family. His law

firm turned out to be the most successful in the city and earned a reputation

with the most cases won in the country ever.

He had never seen Patrick for a long time until one day, he decided to head

_217_

to church. The same church back in his childhood days. As he went in, he

felt much more different than before. He felt more welcomed and at peace.

He saw many people there as the liturgical service was about to begin. The

congregation was filled with people of diverse ages and races, singing in

harmony with the choir. Aden took a seat at the pew slowly as he tried to

take it all in. He struggled to sing along with the others but oddly enough

did not feel out of place. Towards the end of the service, he heard a name

that had not heard for a long time.

It was Patrick. He was an Evangelist and his mission was to help people

who were lost; to guide atheists that want to know more about Christianity.

Patrick then got onto the podium and made his speech about his experience

and how he saw many other views as well. He then spoke about why he set

off on this mission. He said while smiling that he met a young man who

turned away religion because of his past. Aden felt those words stab him

right through his chest as if a needle was piercing through his veins. But

then, Patrick explained how this boy was successful and that he saw many

things differently. He respected the opinion of others and knew when to act

and when to not.

As Patrick was preaching at the front, Aden felt slightly sorrowful and

wished that he had chosen a different life for himself. He wished that if his

life had taken a different turn, he would have been great friends with Pat-

rick. He wanted to have the feeling of a community being around him in

contrast to his lonely early years.

_218_

Overwhelmed with emotion, he looked up to see the beautiful architecture -

the art in stained glass and the overall gothic architecture of the church. He

saw the beauty of religion and how it provided much of the culture known

in the world today. He then looked calmly at the crucifix that hung above the

altar. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and made sure he was living in

the present. He felt every fibre in his body lighten as he muttered to himself,

"Although it is not my life, I hope my next would be with you."

_219_

_Roses to myself_

"It's best if you can come now, Miss Nina," a candid voice seeped through

the telephone.

The bony hands of the wall clock struck 11 as those words echoed through

my ears. Just then, a familiar faint click of the wooden front door halted my

ticking train of thoughts.

"I've already had a few drinks with them. I don't want dinner," a tall

sculpted figure standing by the entrance announced monotonously, messily

leaving his Burberry Leather Oxford Brogues on the shoe rack.

Laced with gloom, my heavy eyes could only stare at the man I once loved

while his egoistical gaze loomed over mine. "Scott, my father had a fall and

he's just been admitted into the hospital with a concussion. Please come

with me to see him."

"Damn it, Nina. I work hard all day but you obviously don't know how

tiring it is because all you do is just nothing. Now that I'm home, I have to

deal with your whiny little shit? Get off my back."

By now, I was sure that even the stars etched into the darkness had expected

a senseless retort like that, with the way they were blinking at me. Talking

to Scott wasn't like what it was before. He was a brick wall now, with a

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broken CD record built into its diameter. Every word I said would only come back to me bruised and butchered. I knew it too, yet I tried again. "He's my

father. Let me go alone at least, just this once."

"The heck, Nina. Just let me bathe and don't you dare try to visit that old

man," he snarled viciously.

It wasn't painful. Hearing his remark so blatantly disguised as a command

made me realise something I wish I had known earlier. I used to think that

love was what I watched in movies. I remember dreaming of the day when

I would become the damsel in distress and my prince charming would bring

me into his palace teeming with treasures. I was indeed the damsel, still

in distress and my prince seemed to have abandoned his charm at the club

where we first met. Turns out, he was the villain after all.

"I'm going. It's been months since I stepped out of this house and you're not

going to stop me from seeing my own father," I calmly lashed at his back

faced towards me. For a minute moment, it was as if I could physically feel

my firm words towering over him. This was the first time I've talked back to

him to get his attention and it worked, seeing how they pierced his arrogant

self-esteem, freezing his movements.

"You've gone freaking mad now, huh? Where's the girl I fell in love with?

The one who did everything I told her to do and wasn't such a fussy prick

before."

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I shuddered at the truth of his disturbing claim because I was that girl he fell in love with and any attempt to deny his statement question would have

appeared pathetic.

"You're right. I was that girl. The one you promised to marry years ago

but I guess even when the moon falls from the sky, you won't. You should

have told me it was an empty promise then maybe I would have believed

it wasn't a lie," the words I wanted to say so badly escaped my lips before

they had a chance to be processed by my conscience. At this point, I didn't

know what I was supposed to feel but I felt anything but bad. It was such a

foreign mixture of victory, relief and elation that coursed through the

surprisingly cool blood in my veins. He though, scrunched his face in

disbelief and could only let out a rough scoff.

"You don't trust me enou-"

"I don't anymore. All this while, I've been silently obeying everything you

told me to do because I thought you would love me more but I'm the foolish

one for not realising that it wasn't about us in this relationship. It has always

only been about you," my mind professed.

My legs already had a plan of its own when it started to guide my feet to the

door. With a determined facade over the incoherent deep noises and occa-

sional grunts and explicit curses of "Don't you freaking dare" from the man

in the house, I strutted out of the four walls with a newfound confidence

masking the layer of fear underneath my muscles.

_222_

"You won't regret this," I convinced myself before I shut the door.

It was nothing short of regular. The light blue tiles that carpeted the cement

floor accompanied by a sterile scent that wafted through the dingy atmo-

sphere screamed, "hospital". I flashed a poker face which boasted a stark

contrast to the irrational excitement surging on my insides. Any normal be-

ing would have thought that I was crazy for feeling happy to be in a hospital

as if I had never seen one before. They would have been right. This was my

first time in a long time being out.

"Miss Nina Cheng?" a lady in white asked.

"Yes. I'm Nina Cheng. What happened to my father?" I questioned back

with an underlying sadness hidden in my tone. Seated next to a bed that was

slightly elevated, I found myself staring at a pair of closed eyes that were

resting on wrinkly features. My father was never one to show weakness but

age and its partner in crime, time, will always attack without notice.

"You probably already heard it over the phone earlier. He had a fall and the

impact to his head made him lose consciousness. The doctors diagnosed

him with a mild traumatic brain injury or what you know as concussion,"

the petite lady dressed in a neat nurse uniform explained verbatim, with a

rather dazed look spread across her delicate eyes as if this was the thousand

time she had repeated this to someone.

"He fell hard but it's only a minor concussion so don't worry too much. He

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should be awake in about half an hour," she added before she stepped out of the room, covering an obvious yawn with her small palms.

I hadn't realised it was past one in the morning until my eyelids batted a few

times, trying to carry the invisible load that sat on them. Soon enough, the

only sounds that could be heard were my own breathing that synced con-

sistently with my father's. With no care as to what uncomfortable position I

was in, I let myself be lulled by the rhythm of silence with my head, falling

into its much needed slumber.

It was short and I awoke to numb fingers against my flat cheeks. "I'm

leaving him," I whispered, afraid of surprising my father if I spoke any

louder. Considering the weight of my words and what they really meant, it

wasn't the most pleasant thing to say to someone who had just woken up

with a headache.

"Don't tell me you're talking a-about..."

"Scott," I finished my father's sentence. He couldn't move much but a flare

of confusion lit up his dark pupils and I knew immediately what he was

thinking about. I was my father's only daughter and all he ever wanted was

for me to grow up happily and healthily but after my 25th birthday, happi-

ness and health were secondary.

"You should be dating soon."

"Have you found a boyfriend yet?"

_224_

"I want to see you get married before you turn 30."

In the beginning, I thought I could fulfil my father's forced prophecy upon

me by dating Scott but if my father didn't want to see his own daughter lose

herself, I had to stop the relationship even if it meant upsetting him. Under

the cotton sheets, he kept quiet and his frail body laid as still as a corpse.

The interrogation would soon break the peace and I could imagine it lasting

till the sun rays spiked through the glass windows.

"I'm sorry," my father muttered so softly it blared in my ears.

"I know that each time you said you were busy so you couldn't visit home,

you were lying. It was Scott. He didn't let you out."

That morning, I revealed everything in tears. The moonlight reflected even

brighter that day, even though the clouds enveloped its luminosity. With each

syllable that slipped off my tongue, a burden was lifted off me and my body

felt so light it challenged gravity. I didn't think I could smile talking about

what a horrible man Scott was but the corners of my lips pulled themselves

up unconsciously when they saw how intently my father was listening.

"I'll move back in your house once I'm done packing my stuff," I comforted

my father whose concerned expression showed a little too obvious when he

realised I had nowhere to go once I left Scott. Nodding as a sign of

confirmation that it wouldn't take long for him to see me at home again, I

exited the hospital with a sense of solace showering over my silky hair,

_225_

though the dreaded thought of returning to the place I once called my haven was the only thing still weighing my feet to the ground.

"Creak...," the door whined, declaring my presence entering the habitual

space. Balls of crumpled up business receipts, sticky pieces of food wrap-

pers and dusty footprint marks veiled the ceramic-tiled floor and the vast

living area looked like a tornado had swept through it. I had expected Scott

to be absent in the middle of this virtual calamity and I was right. Even in

broad daylight, drinking to drown his worries had never failed to be his go-

to solution instead of talking it out.

I quickly flung open the door of our room only to be welcomed by every-

thing oddly in place. Except for the tilted photo of us on one of our casual

lunch dates, displayed against the textured wallpaper, everything else stood

untouched- including the blankets on the bed.

"On the couch. That's where he slept last night," I thought to myself while

quickly sliding my clothes off the plastic hangers in the closet. Although I

was accustomed to Scott's drinking habits well enough to be unbothered by

them, the unpredictable timing of when he would come home during day

drinks made my flesh tingle with uneasiness and I knew I had to pack- fast.

"Clothes, clothes and just clothes," I sighed, looking at my open suitcase

sprawled with fabric. It wasn't much. In fact, the amount of stuff I had

couldn't even fill up the medium-sized luggage. It was almost bare, which

reminded me of how I looked roaming around aimlessly in the house. I

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never had the chance to pamper myself and as I observed the decorated room of various trinkets and embellished walls, I felt mocked for I had spent more

on the house for Scott than myself.

"Goodbye," an uncontrolled grin crafted my face when my fingers latched

onto the doorknob, grasping it tightly for the last time before letting it go.

It was a wreck of a place stained with hurtful memories better stored inside

than bringing them with me.

The final goodbye.

The most ecstatic one.

Days had passed since my father was discharged from the hospital and I had

moved back in with my parents. Although I quit my white-collar job during

the toxic relationship, investing most of my time into taking care of

someone who didn't do the same for me, years of spending little to no

money eventually accumulated enough in my bank account for me to

sustain. In the midst of it all, my friends which I hadn't been keeping in

touch with messaged me all of a sudden asking to hang out. I had rejected it

at first, not wanting to interact with anybody after the whole Scott situation

but my phone notifications popped up like crazy until I finally agreed to the

meetup.

"All he ever talks about is how bad we did this or that but he never gives us

suggestions on how to improve. We always have to figure that part out by

ourselves. Seriously man..he really reminds me of how Puan Mira used to

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teach us Add Maths back in school," a frustrated perky vent sounded over

the feast of roti canai and biryani rice. It was the seven of us, seated around

a cramped round plastic table with the edges a little chipped off and uneven.

I only found out recently that the Mamak stall we were eating in was one of

the most popular in town and being able to get a single seat was already a

miracle. It was lunchtime and the bustling chatter of people in the

background sounded so refreshing playing in tune with my ravenous

chewing of crispy flatbread.

"Anyways, enough of my annoying boss. Let's not ruin this once in a blue

moon reunion and let's talk about something more...uplifting?" my chirpy

friend suggested, raising an eyebrow at me.

It was my oily fingers that paused peeling the dough into smaller pieces

first before my mind noticed how six pairs of eyes were fixated on me. My

friends and I have always been close since Form 4 in secondary school

when we all ended up in the Science stream, though we collectively agreed

that we would not touch Biology, Physics and Chemistry once we

graduated. In the two years leading up to our big final exam that would

determine how the next phase of our lives would turn out (or at least that

was what we were brainwashed to believe), we became each other's

teachers, especially when anyone of us dozed off in class and missed the

lessons.

"I broke up with that jerk and left the house," I reported nonchalantly to the

table of half surprised expressions with the other half beaming as if they

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were the ones who fled a destructive relationship. It was a déjà vu. I told them everything like what I had told my father, except this time I was more

relaxed about it and my tears were too shy to come out.

By the time we finished our meals, our cheeks had become sore from smil-

ing, laughing, discussing the latest shampoo brands and even complaining

about how other people seemed to be giving us strange glances for occupy-

ing the seats for too long. To be fair, it wasn't like a buffet where we could

only stay for limited hours but we soon learnt that the popularity of the Ma-

mak stall came with an unspoken time condition.

We dispersed our own ways after we divided the bill which took a hefty

long time and annoyed even more people but with the help of the sweet rose

syrup water I drank earlier, I could feel my guts overflowing with grateful-

ness and nothing but bliss. I didn't think I'd missed being myself in front of

my friends this much but even when our conversations dwindled down to

debating over whether nasi lemak or nasi kandar was better, the realisation

that I could take refuge in my friends and count on them to brighten the

bleakest of days stung me in the gentlest way possible.

Time flew fast and before I knew it, it had already been a month since I lost

contact with the man I used to think that I couldn't live without. I pursued a

new life and meeting my friends reminded me of how happy I can be when

I'm not controlled by anyone. I decided to join different classes to learn new

things and it was an ordinary Monday until I experienced a yoga class that

I might or might not have regretted registering for.

_229_

"I can't do this anymore!" an exasperated scream bolted out of my lips as a stubborn force pressed against my shoulder, pushing my spine to further

lean backwards from my original comfortable position of lying face down

on the yoga mat. My yoga teacher Ms Kelsey, who was also known as my

most terrifying nightmare on Monday nights, ignored my awful groan and

mercilessly decided to add more force. It felt like she was folding my body

in half like how she folded my registration paper when I first came.

"I didn't sign up for this!" I sighed inside my mind. No matter how excru-

ciating the physical part of yoga was on my stiff body, I knew it was good

for me and after two hours of lonely suffering, my favourite moment of the

class finally dawned upon me like a reward.

I had heard how meditation was supposed to be calming and therapeutic but

that statement never really absorbed into my thoughts until I did it myself.

My relaxed body seemed to agree with me, as my slim fingers rested snugly

on my knees. With my back as straight as a ruler, for a second in my medi-

tation, I had forgotten about the torturing process of stretching my inflexible

body to come to this point.

"It's all about training your mind and finding your inner balance-"

"and that's when you can channel out the peace within you," I mannerly

finished Ms Kelsey's sentence, only to find her looking back at me with a

content smile on her face, like a teacher when a student aces her exam.

_230_

"I'll see you next Monday unless my friends call me out again. They always need to talk when their bosses scold them or when their colleagues talk bad

about them," I informed Ms Kelsey with a thin ribbon of humour lacing my

words. She seemed to understand what I was trying to say and nodded while

beads of sweat from teaching yoga trickled down her flushed face.

It had been a long time since I tried to explore doing different things and

liking what I was doing was even rarer. It would take a couple more classes

for me to actually love yoga but a spark of likeness was already there- and

a burn had never felt so good before.

The next two days drained the productivity out of me as I found myself in

a rock climbing gym that'd been advertised to me through a flyer. I had ini-

tially given up the thought of attending any extreme physical classes but the

flyer and the big, bold words "FREE TRIAL CLASS" were catapulted into

my face and I thought to give it a try.

"You know what? I really can't-," a deep heave concluded my incomplete

sentence. Hanging like a broken doll on the rock climbing wall, my hands

gripped tightly onto the screwed-in plastic rocks and I instantly knew that

I had to let go and rely on the safety straps wrapped around my shoulders

and waist. My unconsciously trembling limbs and joints would be unable to

take another step my body eventually lost its balance and gave in.

By the time I reached the cushion mat on the ground, my energy had

depleted from a low before climbing to a negative after tackling the rocky

_231_

wall and as I envisioned how my muscles would unbearably ache for the

next few days, my legs dragged themselves out of the gym after bidding

goodbye to the hopeful faces that wished for me to return soon. I knew for

sure though, that I would not be coming back.

I spent the next few days almost bedridden, with every tiny movement send-

ing a jolt of electrocuting pain through my tissue fibres. It was the longest

three days ever, though not as long as a day living with Scott before. I was

recovering with the help of my father's Chinese pain relief medicated oil

which he claimed would leave me with a painless body after a few days and

sure enough, I could feel my tense muscles slowly unwind and mend them-

selves.

It would be wise to stop at two classes. After all, yoga class in itself was

fulfilling enough.

"Stop lying to yourself. I know you want to learn flower arrangement too,

after seeing the bouquet your father bought for your mother," an imperative

voice drummed in my ears. My conscience was telling me this yet I did not

understand it. It didn't go away though and after a bloody battle with my

own true desires, I decided to go for flower arrangement classes.

Indeed, the flowers exude elegance and beauty even though my poor skills

snatched them of their description. Looking at my poorly put together

bouquet, I was starting to doubt myself and my history of self-degradation

suddenly hit me faster than a vehicle travelling at 80 kilometres per hour.

_232_

It wasn't helping that other people in the same class worked wonders with their hands, as they proudly took photos of their gorgeously arranged

bouquets. The class was held in the flower shop itself and the large transpar-

ent window that sheltered us from the outside allowed passersby to peek into

what we were doing as if an enclosed space wouldn't have been pressuring

enough. Amidst all the dispiriting thoughts, I enjoyed touching, smelling,

picking and arranging the brightly coloured, freshly scented stems of

Baby's Breath and magenta roses. It wasn't the prettiest of presentations but

the delicacy I had dealt with each petal deserved at least a bloom of praise in

my opinion. Of course, no one would compliment my bouquet considering

I was the thorn among the roses- or so I thought.

"Can I buy that bouquet?" I overheard a sweet lady's voice speak over the

counter to my teacher who was also the owner of the shop. My hands

immediately stopped fumbling over the damp green leaves I was working

with when my head shot up to see who the voice belonged to.

Pointing right at my bouquet was a total stranger and my mind blanked out

like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That is not for sale. She is one of my students and we're

actually having a flower arrangement class right now," my teacher quickly

responded when she saw how eagerly the lady wanted to buy "my" bouquet.

I wasn't absolutely sure if her fingers landed on my creation because she

could have been referring to the person beside me who had an outstandingly

_233_

impressive array of crimson asters, white orchids and pink dahlias perfectly aligned next to each other. The realisation that that could have been the case

made my cheeks swell with embarrassment and my head could only hang

low as my face turned redder than the flowers.

"My name's Evelyn. Can you uhhh...take down my name in case you decide

to sell it? My dad really likes roses and her bouquet is really beautiful," the

lady mentioned before she strutted out of the shop.

"Nina? The woman that just left really seemed to like yours. You chose

such simple yet powerful flowers, did you know that? Magenta roses sym-

bolise love and he wanted to buy them for his fiancée. You may not be in

a relationship right now but the fact that you chose this flower...I'm sure

that someone or something is loving you the way you are loving them,"

my teacher reassured me before she left to attend to other customers. I was

starstruck at her remark because I had never mentioned to her about my past

relationship yet she spoke as if she was with me the whole time...and that's

when I understood everything.

All this while, I had been busy trying to find someone to love me up to the

point I lost myself in trying to please that love. However, letting go of that

love enabled me to build myself up and discovered my potential to do so

much more than what a destructive relationship told me I could do. I was

capable and at the end of the day,

I can give myself roses too.

_234_

_ather_

_L , Rinse, Repeat_

"All you care is about yourself."

The words escaped my mouth before I could even think about the

repercussions of what I said. The My fists trembled on my lap, the

clamminess making my palms sweat uncomfortably. The tension in the air

was so thick you could cut it with a knife. My tongue felt like it was too big,

dry and stuck to the roof of my mouth. I tried not to let it get to me, but it

was too much.

"I don't think you're treating me like how a friend would." The expression

on Matthew's face was unreadable, but I could see his jaw clench and

unclench as he let out a long breath from his nose. Here we go again.

"We've been through this before Ethan," he said through gritted teeth. He

was right. We have been through this same fight over and over again. The

same words with the same response. "I treat you like this because you're my

friend. I can be like this because I am friends with you. This is what friends

do, Ethan," he sighed.

My fingers itched to pull at the skin around my nails. "I just think that

maybe the words you use could be a little less harsh," I mumbled quietly,

eyes trained to the ground instead of looking at him. The chatter of the other

students hanging around the canteen a low hum in the background.

_235_

"How am I being harsh?" Matthew scoffed. He moved to sit right in front

of me. The sticky tiled floor replaced by dirtied white canvas shoes. "I say

the things I say because I want you to be better," he said softly. His voice

changed completely from his earlier statement.

Daring a look up at him, his eyes were staring at mine with a look akin to

disappointment.

"I thought you were my friend E."

"I am but-"

"I already get so much shit at home and now you too?"

The feeling of guilt washed over me in immense waves. How could I have

said such things? I knew Matthew is going through a hard time at home, I

shouldn't be adding on more reasons for him to be upset. Matthew is my

friend, he wouldn't say things that would hurt me. I'm probably being too

sensitive. Fear slowly crept through my veins replacing the heavy feeling of

guilt weighing down my chest. Is this the end of our friendship? Matthew

has been nothing but nice to me since the very first day we met, and here I

am being a jerk to the only person who cares about me.

Warmth filled my chest as I thought about my first day of school. I had

transferred to Sri Berlian from my previous school for what my parents called

"convenience's sake", but I know they knew about the bullying. Growing

_236_

up, I never really had a lot of friends. I didn't like getting my hands dirty while playing outside with the other kids. While other children my age were

getting tans and scrapes on their knees, I was getting glasses from reading

books in the dark. I never knew much about shows they watched on Disney

channel or on Netflix, or played games on my phone. I guess this was what

made me an easy target. To them, I was the weird kid, someone on the

outside. I did not belong to any friend group.

Coming from a government school, bullying was not unusual. When I close

my eyes, I can still feel the bruises that bloomed across my skin. I tried my

best to hide them using my sister's concealer that was one shade too dark,

but some days I catch the way ma's eyes linger on my neck, my arms, and

the areas around my eyes.

Whenever the senior boys were bored, they would shove me around like

some kind of ragdoll. Sometimes my glasses get knocked off and stepped

on in the process, but this makes it even funnier to them. I try my best to get

my glasses replaced with my own allowance that I saved up as not to worry

my parents.

On the last day of school, _ma_ pulled me in for a tight hug. Her thin arms

wrapped around me and I pretended I could not feel the warm teardrops on

my carefully ironed school uniform nor could I see the redness in her eyes .

My heart shattered, knowing she is probably hurting more than I am. All _pa_

gave was a slight nod when I told him I was leaving for school, his mouth

set into a grim line. That was the last day I stepped foot into SJK(C) Jalan

_237_

Tun.

I started at my new school immediately the next day. Everything was

planned out carefully by my parents. They wanted to make sure the same

thing would not happen again. Attending my new school wasn't any differ-

ent, people still ignored me, but at least there wasn't any hitting or stealing

of lunch money. Just to be safe, food was already paid for, so at least if my

money was stolen I wouldn't be going for classes on an empty stomach.

I spent a week of school alone. I ate lunch alone, went to classes alone, and

waited for the school bus alone. I was used to it so it didn't bother me much.

I had my books to keep me company. That was until Matthew came into the

picture. It was on a Tuesday morning. I was waiting for the bell that

signalled the end of recess to ring when a shadow loomed over me.

"You're the new kid right?" said the shadow.

I looked up from the yellowing pages of my book and saw the silhouette

of a guy with short hair. He was a bit bigger than the rest of the boys in my

year. A senior perhaps?

"What are you doing here all by yourself?" the voice asked again.

I took a look at the figure in front of me, at a complete loss for words. No-

body ever spoke to me or asked me why I was alone.

_238_

"Are you talking to me?" I asked, surprise laced in my words.

"Of course lah," the voice said with a laugh. "Who else is here? My name

is Matthew, what about you?"

"Ethan, Year 7 this year."

"You and I are going to be bros Ethan."

I thought he was kidding, but for the next few days he would appear from

out of nowhere to sit with me or talk to me. Like in the library, or in the can-

teen during break and lunch.

"Still got people read books one meh?"

"Eh that looks nice what are you eating?"

It started off as once or twice over a couple of weeks, then to once or

twice a week, and gradually it became an everyday thing. Since we're in

different classes, Matthew would wait for me at the stairs near the canteen.

It felt so foreign to me, having someone to eat lunch with or talk about the

latest school gossip.

I thought it was a joke, something Matthew was doing for fun because he

was bored, but a month passed and he still waited. After two months, if my

class ended early I would be the one to wait for him. Ever since, Matthew

_239_

and I have been practically joined by the hip. You would rarely see me without him by my side and vice versa. Even after all the many arguments

that we had prior. How could I blame him? He was the only one that came

to me when I had no one and stayed after all this time. Despite his own

hardships, he still helped me the best he could. Sometimes, the things he

says and does hurt a lot. It only got worse as time goes by. What am I to do?

He's the only friend I've got.

"I'm sorry Matt," I said, finally breaking the silence. "I shouldn't have said

that to you, it wasn't cool at all."

"It's fine E, I know you didn't mean it." Matthews looked at me with caring

eyes and gave me a side hug. "Hey, you're still going to be my friend despite

all our arguments. I look out for you a lot, more than you could ever know."

I forced a smile as I looked at him and hesitantly said. "Thanks Matt..."

"Not a problem. Let me walk you back home." His expression turned 180

degrees, like the argument never happened.

I'm both amazed and saddened by the fact that he always does this. Ev-

ery single time we argue, he always seemed to look and feel like nothing

ever happened. As much I try to look like I'm alright, I never really am.

No matter how many times he guilt trips me, pretending like everything's

alright after an argument, I still chose to stay.

_240_

I said my goodbyes as he dropped me off before walking back to his own

home. The house was empty when I stepped in, ma and pa were both at

work. Walking up the stairs felt like a chore, I couldn't wait to just drop on

the bed and sleep. My feet weighed down each step making it groan with

every step.

After hanging my backpack on the doorknob and dropping on the bed, my

eyelids were weighing down when a soft knock startled me.

"Hey _di_ , everything alright?" a soft voice asked from my doorway. I looked

up and saw Jane, my older sister standing with her arms crossed in front of

her, face etched in concern. Of course she would know something's wrong,

older sister instincts.

"I'm okay," I mumbled from my starfish position on the bed, trying my best

to act like everything's fine. "Y'know, the same old same old."

Immediately jie knew that something was up, something was bothering me.

"What happened, is it about Matthew again?" I shifted my legs slightly to

make space for her as she moved to sit on the edge of my bed.

I brushed it off saying that it's nothing, rather the conflict wasn't a big of a

deal at all. "Matt and I had an argument just now but really it's fine, there's

nothing to worry about."

There was a pregnant silence as I watched my sister bite her bottom lip,

_241_

seemingly deep in thought. The ceiling fan creaking and wobbling from years of use accompanied my thoughts as I wondered what was going through her

head. The day was warm and the breeze was a relief despite the humidity.

"I've been thinking about this for quite some time now," she started, turning

to face me but looking away again. "I don't think Matthew is being a good

friend."

I sat up straight on the bed to try and meet her eyes, all remnants of sleep

gone. "What do you mean?"

Her fingers plucked and pulled at the thread on her loose pants. Her

oversized hoodie swallowing her up making her look smaller than she

already is. "I just think that he is being mean to you most of the time, he

treats you really terribly."

"It's not like that," I said defending Matthew. "Matt is only doing this

because he cares for me, he doesn't want me to be such a doormat, he wants

me to be able to stand up for myself."

"Tell me lah _di_ , what kind of friend treats you that way for your own good?"

jie raised her voice in frustration.

_What kind of friend would treat me like this? How am I supposed to know, I_

_never had one._

_242_

_Jie_ must have known what was going through my mind because pity overtook frustration.

It came as a surprise to me because she usually does not speak up about

anything. She was usually soft-spoken and kept her thoughts to herself.

After some silence, she stood up and walked towards the door. "I'm only

telling you this because I care di, you know that."

And the thing is, I did know. Jie wouldn't speak up about something

she wasn't feeling strongly about. Thinking about what jie said to me, it

reminded me to all the times I had my arguments with Matthew. Most of

them can be so petty, thinking back.

"What do you mean I can't copy your homework? Sharing is caring right?"

"Eh don't anyhow blame me for your missing book okay. I already told you

I gave it back to you."

"You suck lah Ethan, can I have a bit of challenge please don't be so noob

can?"

All these arguments left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I brushed them aside.

All friends get into little fights after all. It just so happened that Matthew

was a little more easily irritated than other people. I thought I just needed to

be patient with him.

_243_

I fished out my phone from my pants pocket. 3 new messages from Mat-

thew.

hey E, u finish the physics worksheet dy???

can u take pic of the answers 4 me, thx

im goin 2 play a few rounds of league wit my frens

so dont be clingy and expect a reply

That's all he ever texts me for. Homework answers. Feeling brave, I laid

down on my back and typed out a reply.

Hey Matt, I've been doing some thinking and I

think you're not being a very good friend

U only look 4 me when u want smthg and u put me

down for every little thing i do

My sister told me this isn't a very healthy

friendship, and I think she's right

I knew what I needed to say, but it didn't make it any easier. I watched the

cursor blink, the texts above it with only two grey ticks. He'll probably only

see the messages at midnight. With shaking hands and vision blurred, I tap

on 'Send' before I could change my mind.

_244_

I think it's better if we stopped being friends

Doing this should be easy. I'm letting go of someone who isn't good for

me. Staying in this friendship would ultimately just slowly chip away at

my self-esteem and confidence. I never knew what a friend was in my old

school, which made Matthew seem like the greatest person ever for talking

to me.

So why is this so hard? A loud sob wracked through my body before I

could stop it. With shaking fingers I switched my phone off and threw my

phone to the other side of the bed, not thinking about the repercussions of it

bouncing off the surface. I curled on my side, my tears staining my sheets. I

was silently grateful that jie closed the door behind her when she left.

After what felt like hours, my eyes slip shut, tired and dry. As I fell asleep,

I was reminded of the nights I would cry like this when I was still in my old

school. Instead of my body that was bruised up and tattered, I realised it was

my heart and mind. I had allowed myself to be in this friendship for so long

oblivious to the fact that it had taken a toll on me.

With the curiosity of what Matthew would reply to my messages at the back

of my head, fell into slumber.

I woke up the next morning with swollen eyes and a crusty feeling from not

taking a shower after class. I should have known better than to fall asleep

without showering in Malaysia's humid weather. I noticed that my socks

_245_

were no longer on my feet and my shirt untucked from my pants. Either _jie_ came in to check on me again, or my parents did. Hopefully it wasn't the

latter. I don't want them thinking that sending me to this school was a bad

idea like the last one.

I turned my head to look out the window, a ray of light shining through

the half-drawn curtains bathing my face with its warm glow. My stomach

growled from not eating dinner the night before. I closed my eyes to stretch,

trying to loosen up my stiff muscles from sleeping in the same position for

too long. After turning to the other side, I opened my eyes to see my phone

sitting dangerously close to the edge of the bed.

I reached out my hand to grab my phone before it could fall and the screen

cracks into a spiderweb pattern. Clicking on the home button, I saw a dozen

messages from Matthew and a dozen more missed calls.

My body shot up like a coiled spring when the memories of last night came

back to me. My blood ran cold and the dread from yesterday returned. I

debated on opening the messages later, to pretend that I didn't see it. It was

already 10am on a Thursday and I'm supposed to be in school but no one

came to wake me up.

_246_

Not like anyone would miss me. Matthew is probably done with me and

hanging out with his other friends. The messages he sent just to cut ties with

me and to tell me he didn't need me as his friend.

Fear crept into my heart, is that how it is. Am I without a friend again? Even

if Matthew was mean to me, at least I had someone to have meals with and

to do my work with. I should apologise before Matthew is really done with

me. Before I could open Whatsapp, _ma_ appeared at the door.

"Good morning Ethan," she greeted with a smile on her face. " _Jie_ told us

that you were not feeling well so I took the day off. Glad you're feeling

better now."

"Morning," I mumbled from the bed, relieved that _Jie_ did not say anything

about Matthew.

"Oh ya, Matthew is here to see you," she continued. "I think he heard you

were sick and came to visit you, how nice. I ask him to come in ah?"

"Who?" I exclaimed, shock evident in my voice. What is he doing here? Is

he here to yell at me? Tell me how worthless I am? He couldn't do that, not

with _ma_ here.

She looked at me with a slight frown on her face. "Matthew's here, your

_247_

friend?"

"Oh right," I cleared my throat. "No need to come up, I'll meet him

downstairs." I walked past my her, knowing she was suspicious of my

behaviour. I used to not shut up about Matthew, telling her about how I had

a friend to hang out with every day. The smile on her face was always full

of relief, knowing it was a good idea for me to change schools.

Not to say that _ma_ wasn't observant, but she was more than happy that

there were no longer new bruises and cuts appearing on my body. Now that

I think about it, I don't think anybody noticed the effect that my friendship

with Matthew had on me. Not until _Jie_......

I went downstairs and peeped out the main door. I could see Matthew in our

school uniform, standing awkwardly next to the green Alam Flora rubbish

bin. It was weird to see him like that, he was usually standing with his head

held high.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared for the worst. He looked up when he heard

the loud creak of the metal grill that led to the inside of our house. His

eyes were round with shock followed by relief. His stained white shirt was

messily tucked in and his hair sticking out in different directions.

"Eh hi," Matthew greeted with a smile on his face. "You came out to see me,

I knew your texts were just a joke."

_248_

Through the bars of the autogate I could see his expressions clearly, but maybe he couldn't see mine.

"It's not a joke. I think we should stop being friends," I replied. The smile

on his face fell but his stare was unwavering. Suddenly I was too con-

scious about my red-rimmed eyes and clothes from yesterday. Obviously

unchanged from the wrinkles and creases.

A long silence.

This seemed like a common re-occurrence, but it doesn't make it any less

uncomfortable. The sun is starting to shift from warm to scorching, making

the air between us even more uncomfortable. I hope this conversation ends

so I could escape the sweltering heat, and of course the awkward confron-

tation.

Matthew let out a scoff, a look of disbelief on his face. "And here I was

thinking to give you a second chance."

A second chance? What was he talking about?

"Check your phone," he snipped.

I lifted my hand to take a look at my lockscreen. Sure enough, the doz-

en messages were variants of Matthew saying he would give me a second

chance and he will see me in school the next day.

_249_

"Why are you giving me a second chance?"

"Cause I know you don't really want to end the friendship," he laughed. "I

mean come on lah if you're not friends with me who else do you have? And

what does your sister know? It's not like she is part of the friendship also."

I wanted to have a good defence to that statement, but I had nothing. He was

right, I had no one else.

"Who has been the one eating break and lunch with you?" he asked.

"And going home with you, picking you for their team during PE," he con-

tinued when met with silence. "There's nothing wrong with this friendship,

you're just overthinking. You always do that."

I shifted from one foot to the other, the late morning sun now the least of my

problems. Unlike Matthew who moved so now he is under the old mango

tree. His confidence stance back.

"I can even compromise with you if you want," he said as if he was doing

me a favour. "I won't say mean things to you anymore. I'll change lah if

that's what you want."

He moved forward to put his hand through the metal bars for a handshake,

"What do you say? Friends?"

_250_

I stared at the extended hand in front of me. He'll change? He has said it before, but he looks serious about it this time. Maybe he really will change,

my heart now lighter with relief and happiness.

"Did you _ponteng_ class to come here?" I asked, fingers fidgeting where it

rested by my side.

"Of course lah, what are friends for. Correct or not?" he responded as a

matter of factly.

I couldn't help the small smile that lifted my cheeks. Friends.

A few months had passed since that day. True to his word, he stopped

making sharp mean comments. He also texts me weird things he found on

the internet. For a while, I really thought he had changed, that we were going

to have a friendship that went both ways. I know _Jie_ still doesn't approve

and ma and pa were still oblivious, but I was happy. I had a friend again.

I should have known it was too good to be true. Eventually he stopped

texting, the only time I see his name light up on my phone would be him

asking for answers.

It was lunchtime and I was eating my food at the canteen, when suddenly

Matthew appeared in front of me.

"Thank God you have food bro I was starving," he said as he slurped down

my bowl of _bihun_ sup, snatching the chopsticks from my hand. "I'm going

_251_

for football after this and I didn't want to play on an empty stomach."

He put down the bowl with a burp of satisfaction. "Thanks bro, you're the

best."

The words left my mouth before he could leave, "You said you would change,

but all you care about is still yourself."

_252_

_A lonely spirit in December_

She took off her round glasses to rub at her eyes before taking the last gulp

of her pint after looking at the pendant of her mother that she always carries

around. "Ah Moi, we're going to close soon, better go home ah," the bar-

tender stated with a drawl in his voice. Lilith walked out of the bar, past the

glaringly bright fluorescent lights of the tomyam shop. Hearing the shouts

of fans hollering at the projection of a football match on the big screen,

she began to reminisce about the first experience she had with the gift that

she possessed. Her father used to be a mortician and carpenter for a funer-

al parlor and her mother passed away from cancer when she was only 4.

Lilith always carries the pendant of her mother's picture around her neck as

protection and to commemorate her.

It was the year-end school holiday of 2011, Lilith was planning to apply

for a tuition class to prepare for her PMR next year. The sky was gloomy

and it looked like it was about to rain, Lilith quickly pulled on her raincoat

and carefully tread towards her father's funeral parlor that wasn't too from

her house. She kept cursing inwardly because she didn't want to help in the

shop but her father insisted her to work there for one week otherwise her

allowance would be cut. She managed to reach the shop before it started to

pour. She noticed a middle-aged couple walk into the shop gingerly placing

their umbrella in the stand holder. The lady's eyes were puffy and red. "Lily,

go see what they want," whispered Mr. Swee to Lilith. She was hesitant,

they looked like they were in a very fragile mood, but what choice did she

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have if her allowance was on the line?

Lilith didn't think much and walked over to the couple. "Good Morning,

Mr. and Mrs.." she trailed off. "Lim, Mr.Lim," the man replied with a low

and throaty voice. "Can I help you?" Lilith asked. The tears in Mrs.Lim's

eyes started to flow as she looked at Lillith's face. "Why did this have to

happen to him? He was such a sweet boy and he was taken away from me!"

Mrs. Lim 's throat felt swollen and she stuttered as she tried to speak the

words in her head. Mr.Lim silent held her in his arms, though he was not

crying, the devastation in his eyes was as clear as day. "Our son met with

an unfortunate accident you see, and we want to show him our love one last

time," said Mr. Lim, trying to maintain the steadiness in his voice.

"My boy's about 130cm with a medium build," said Mrs. Lim shakily as

she wiped the tears from her face. "Generally, we have caskets and coffins

and the difference between the two would be the cost and the material used.

We have two types of coffin in our shop, my dad can show you later, it's

at the back. Other than a coffin, we have caskets, burial casket and crema-

tion casket depends on your choice. If you opt for a better quality one leh, I

would suggest you to choose casket over coffin because- uh it is constructed

of better quality wood one and got higher standards of workmanship, but

of course, the price will be much more expensive la than the coffin," Lilith

replied after checking her notes on the counter. "We want the best for our

son, can we have a look at the casket available after we discuss other details

for the funeral?" Mr.Lim replied gently. "Yes, sure. I will ask my father to

explain more about the details of the funeral, wait a moment." Lilith replied

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while making eye contact with her father to signal him.

"Good Morning, Mr. Lim and Mrs. Lim, you can call me Ah Swee. The first

thing you guys have to decide now is whether you want your little boy to

be buried or cremated. If you guys choose a burial funeral, we will provide

a package with a burial casket, embalming, and preservative dry ice. Like-

wise, if you choose cremation, we will provide a cremation casket, an urn

as well as the cremation and retrieval of ashes service. You can choose to

place him at a columbarium wall or have the ashes scattered at a significant

place." Mr. and Mrs. Lim looked at each other. "A burial service would be

enough," said Mr. Lim as his wife continued to shake and weakly sob in his

arms.

While leading them to choose the casket and other additional stuff for Jamie,

Mr.Swee explain to them about the procedures of the Taoist ritual. Lilith

followed her father along when he leads them to pick some joss papers of

materialistic items and paper clothes for Jamie. She also suggested them to

choose two puppet maids and a paper palace to burn for Jamie during the

last day of the funeral because she always thinks they're cute. "Okay, Lith,

go ask Uncle Tang and the rest to prepare 10 packages of joss sticks, 10

packs of Heavenly Gold and money, we have a new case. You should get

ready too, you are coming with us," Mr. Swee instructed Lilith.

She turned around and walked towards the counter. She then saw a pale

young boy with just the exact body build that Mrs. Lim just said standing

next to her father's office window and staring outside as if he's searching

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for something. He had a light blue aura around him. Her heart was racing, she knows that that's Jamie standing there yet her curious nature made her

approach him. "Hey-y-y-y, a-a-are you oka-a-ay?," she stuttered. He turned

around and smiled, a somber look in his eyes and said, "Yeah, I'm fine it's

just that I am looking for a way to speak to my parents again, I don't like

to see them like this," he said in a low voice. Even under the inexplicable

distance of worlds between them, Lilith could feel his disappointment deep

in her heart, rumbling away like a million black moths trying to buzz their

way out. She then took his hand and told him to take a walk with her. When

they're about to reach the main gate, Jamie stopped and said, "I've tried, I

don't know why but I can't go any further than this." Lilith assumed that

this may be because Jamie's physical body is in the house. Lilith said, "

Alright then I'll see you in a couple of days. Maybe, I can try and help you.

We'll see la how if I see you again ok?" On her way home she remembered

how she always wanted to give her mother a last goodbye when she died

of cancer but she didn't have the ability to do so yet and somehow mirac-

ulously she's able to see things from another world now. She plays around

with her mother's pendant while telling herself that she will do what's right,

something she can do right now, determination running through her veins as

she began to think of ways to help the young boy.

She came back the next Monday and as usual, she's reading the newspaper

on the counter right after she finished helping her dad set up the shop. She

didn't really expect to see Jamie again as it had been so many days and she

was wondering if it's even real or not. She felt a sudden gust of wind blew

past all of a sudden, but it didn't creep her out, instead, she felt excited

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as she feels Jamie's presence in the wind. As expected, Jamie appeared in her father's office, he fades into form and smiled and greets Lilith. "Hey,

I didn't expect you to be back so early, I've been so bored these past few

days." "Hey, why don't I bring you some of my favorite comics after lunch

later so we can read them together." She then held his hand into hers and

cupped them gently, "Why don't you tell me what you wanted to tell your

parents and I'll see if I can help." "I want them to know that it's not their

fault that I'm dead, and that I will always remember the time we spent our

time together." Jamie paused and sighed, "I really miss them. The days when

I would help out my mother's florist after school and how my dad would

always come to the shop to pick us back home every day after 7. Sometimes

when he works late we would watch a movie together and eat the grapes in

the fridge. Mom knows I love grapes so she would always stock the fridge

full of them so I can eat them when I come back from school. My dad would

always bring us and our dog, Lulu, to the nearby park to jog every Sunday

and we would get ice cream together after that. I miss them so much." Lilith

then took him for a tour of the procession and told him about the process

of it and see if it could suit Jamie perfectly. "I feel so unreal, it's like what

I see in the movies," Jamie looked up to the sky standing beside a window.

"Being dead, being a ghost, seeing my own funeral's procession. I think

this is like what my mom told me. She always said 'son, get ready to be

surprised.'" Their laughter ripples through the hall while Lilith showed him

how the day of his funeral is going to be like. "It just that - this surprise is a

bit overwhelming, " he said while looking dead into Lilith's eyes as if he's

trying to get hold of something.

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Lilith asked Jamie what flowers he likes. Jamie told her he likes chrysanthemums and lilies. "They are my favorite flowers as they represent all the

things my mother is. Chrysanthemum blooms during fall, it symbolizes a

thriving beauty despite an oncoming winter," he said this, while looking

at the flowers on the altar. "And in China chrysanthemums are one of the

most common flowers and because of how similar they sound in Manda-

rin, chrysanthemums also symbolize a long life." Lilith was impressed by

how well he knew the flowers and asked him why. Jamie shied away and

started talking in a very soft tone, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"It's because I don't really have many friends in school.. a-a-and I would

always read the book about flowers that's in my mom's desk's drawer."

Lilith hugged him. "it's okay I understand because of my father's profession

i don't really have many friends too. That's why I spent all my time read-

ing comics hahaha." Jamie started following her wherever she went. They

spent time looking at the rain, disturbing their father by having Jamie move

things around the place and playing with the trip switch, they also talked

about the things Jamie wished to have done when he was alive. They also

tried to walk out the gates of the funeral home, thinking why Jamie can't get

out. Lilith thinks it's because Jamie's body is not buried yet and it's in the

funeral home- which is why he can't get out. Lilith tells Jamie that he will

be freed once the body is buried.

"Do you want to decide yourself when to be freed?," while bringing Jamie

to a table to get a calendar. Using a Faber Caster blue ball pen to point up

and down at the numbers on it, "Thursday, Friday or Saturday? My dad al-

ways called these days as golden days in the Chinese calendar," she chuck

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led. "Friday or Saturday sounds good to me. I feel like staying here for a few more days, it's really peaceful and there are no neighbors, so I can do

anything I want," he said while looking out the same window in his fa-

ther's office again. This time, Lilith realized that he had been staring at the

swings across the street and she realized what she had to do. She brought a

thick rope out of the basement and she cleaned the recycled tyres her dad

would put plants in. She combined them together, tied it onto a tree in the

front yard and turned it into a swing. She then called Jamie out and brought

him to try it out. She placed both of Jamie's legs into the hole of the tire

and asked Jamie to hold the rope tightly. "Try to feel the wind, Jamie." She

gently pushed him forward and she saw Jamie smiling from the edge of his

lips. This is the first time Lilith saw him smiling genuinely. "I'll go faster

then, alright?" "Alright!" Jamie had never been so happy in life before.

Lilith then took out a piece of A4 paper from her father's office then went

back to Jamie who's still on the swing. "Let me write down the things you

want to say to your parents, okay?," she says, writing with the same pen she

used before. "Okay," he was still wearing his school uniform. He sits on the

swing swinging forth and back, "Actually there's not much to talk about, I

just don't want them to blame themselves for my death." "Yeah, but still it

would sound more convincing and I'm sure they would feel better too if you

wrote something only you guys would know right?" Jamie stares blankly as

he thinks, moments later, he opened his mouth. "Alright then I guess we'll

write a letter to them then." Both of them sat down and under the cassia tree

and Jamie started dictating.

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_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_This is Jamie, I am able to write this letter thanks to my new friend, Lilith._

_Somehow I am able to see and talk to her. Mom, Dad it's not your fault that_

_I'm gone, don't blame the guy that hit me, I'm sure he felt bad about it too._

_My favorite color is yellow because it's bright like the sun. My favorite food_

_is grandma's fried chicken when we go back to Ipoh to visit them. Mom, do_

_you remember how every day you would pick me up after school and we'll_

_go to your florist and you'll tell me the story and the meaning behind each_

_flower. And sometimes when dad is late to pick us up, we'll watch a movie_

_while we eat the grapes you brought from the supermarket every morning._

_And sometimes I would just fall asleep in your arms and you would be so_

_scared to move as you don't want to wake me up. And dad, do you remember_

_how you would bring us and our dog, Lulu to the park near our house every_

_Sunday morning for a walk and we would always get ice-cream after that._

_Can you take care of Lulu for me? Pleaseeee dad. I wished that I could've_

_spent more time with both of you. I love you, mom. I love you too, dad. I_

_hope we'll meet again someday, somewhere._

__

_Your son,_

_Jamie._

It's Wednesday already. 1 more day left before the burial on Thursday. Ja-

mie's mother had been at the funeral home since 7 am as that day would be

the most important day of the whole process, it's the day to double-check

everything, the day to make sure that the funeral will be carried out without

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any issues... Lilith followed them around when they're going through the

placements of flower vases near the coffin. Lilith accidentally overheard

Mrs. Lim saying that she isn't sure which flower to choose as Jamie likes all

of them equally. She stepped in and said "White lilies and chrysanthemums."

This shook Mrs. Lim as she realized that Lilith was right. Jamie really once

said that they are his favourite flowers. Mrs. Lim turned and looked at her

discombobulated. "H-h-how did you know that?" Lilith answered quickly.

"Oh, it's just a lucky guess! Haha!" Mrs. Lim also brought a large basket

of Jamie's clothes as it's a tradition to burn several of the deceased favorite

clothes because the Chinese believe that, when they die, they will be able to

wear them in the afterworld. Lilith saw Ms. Lim struggling to choose which

one to burn for Jamie. Jamie was there with them too. Jamie then pointed

towards his dinosaur jumper and a white graphic T-shirt with 'I am Super-

man,' a pair of blue shorts and lastly, his favorite ADIDAS slides. Lilith

then pointed out exactly to which one to burn to Mrs. Lim. Mrs. Lim was

surprised as these were usually worn by Jamie every time they went out or

when they were traveling. As Mrs. Lim was about to confront her again, she

was called by her father to get to the counter in front.

Today's the day. Jamie's funeral. The air is so tense it feels like a wrong

breath could cause meltdowns. Lilith could feel it. Jamie's presence was

ever-present, but it felt weaker. As much as she wanted to blame it on being

used to seeing him, even she had to admit that the glow surrounding him

was starting to become faint. The piece of paper in her hands felt heavy but

her heart was heavier from the moral battle raging behind her eyes. Was this

the right thing to do? What if Jamie's mom hears her speech and has a

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mental breakdown in the middle of the graveyard? What if the stress goes

to her brain and gives her a stroke? What if Jamie's father got agitated and

struck her in front of everyone? He seemed to have a temperament from

what she heard from Jamie's mom. What if her father stopped her before she

got to give her speech and Jamie's parents never get closure from the event

and their marriage collapses causing Jamie's mom to grieve even more and

\- Lilith had to stop overthinking it. She made a promise to Jamie and she

intended to keep it. "Nervous? You know everyone can tell from a kilome-

ter away, right?" piped Jamie into her ear. She didn't flinch this time, she'd

gotten used to Jamie's tricks by now. "Of course I'm nervous, I don't want

to be the reason your mom has a public freakout!" Lilith whispered harshly

as to not attract attention to her and the specter no one else could see. Jamie

flashed his smile, even though the dim glow emanating from him, his smile

was as bright as ever. "Don't worry about it! I'm sure she'll be relieved to

read and nothing will go wrong! Hehehe," Jamie teased. Lilith rolled her

eyes slightly to Jamie's underestimation of the situation, but she couldn't

suppress the small smile that crept up on her.

The funeral parlor slowly became more crowded as more and more people

trickled in to pay their respects to the Lims. Lilith felt her anxiety skyrock-

et, wow this really is a lot of people, until a firm hand clasped itself on her

shoulder. "Lilith, I didn't know you would be coming today," said Mrs.

Lim, her eyes still puffy but somewhat less red from the last time Lilith had

met her. "Hello Mrs. Lim, yea I'm here to uh, help my dad here there with

the small small things," she said, gripping the note in her hand tighter ever

so slightly. Mrs. Lim was about to ask Lilith a question before a sudden

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"Lilith! Come help! Now!" came from the back of the parlour. "Sorry ah

Mrs. Lim, Dad is calling and he'll be angry if I don't go, I'll see you later!,"

she said as she scurried off to help her Mr. Swee with whatever it is that he

needed.

The procession began soon after. A solemn silence hung in the air as prayers

were recited and reminders of how Jamie is in a better place. "He was too

good for this world, too kind, God took him away before he could get even

more hurt by the cruel world," said Mr. Lim to his wife, trying to comfort

her as she returned to the all familiar shaking, sobbing form that Lilith was

used to seeing in the shop. She stood by her father as the funeral went on,

occasionally glancing at the form of Jamie in the casket, and glancing at Ja-

mie's spectral form, sitting next to his parents, putting a hand on his mother's

back, hoping that the near non-existent weight of his small hand would be a

source of comfort for his grieving mother. Lilith gave him a small smile, a

small inscrutable smile that would remain unnoticed by anyone but Jamie.

As the people began to get up one by one, exiting the parlour to go to the

burial grounds, Lilith caught up to the Lims before they left. "Mrs. Lim

could I see you for a bit?" said Lilith as she came up behind Mrs. Lim. "Yes

girl, what is it?" she asked quizzically. Lilith halted when she saw the look

on Mrs. Lim's face, memories of how broken Mrs. Lim was in the shop,

how raw her sobs sounded, how her hands could barely grace the cloth of

Jamie's clothes without remembering how she'll never see him in those out-

fits ever again. Lilith began to question if what she was doing was the right

thing if this would somehow make things much much worse than it already

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is. What felt like a century of doubt, a clear voice in her head cut through all the thoughts.

_She needs to know, give her the letter_

"Mrs. Lim, I have something for you. I don't think I can explain it, but I

feel that you should have it," Lilith stated in a steady voice that was just as

surprising to herself as it was to Mrs. Lim. Lilith held out the note to Mrs.

Lim, firmly holding it being careful not to crinkle it. Mrs. Lim slowly took

the note from Lilith's small hands, her eyebrows raised in confusion as she

unfolds the note.

Tears began to flow from Mrs. Lim's eyes, but not in a way where Lilith was

familiar. These tears were not sad, but they weren't exactly happy either.

Acceptance? Melancholy? The voice in her head, was it Jamie? Was it her

conscience? Lilith couldn't tell, but what she knew was that she had done

the right thing.

With a trembling hand, Mrs. Lim weakly pulled Lilith closer."How? How

did you... These things...How?" she asked, in curiosity and grief.

"I, well, I didn't know, he told me," Lilith explained.

"Why couldn't he tell me himself?? His own mother?? Why would he tell

you?"

"Because I can see him, I wish I could prove this to you but I can only see

him. Aunty, why would I lie about this?" Lilith said, trying to convince the

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grieving mother that she was telling the truth.

What happened next, Lilith couldn't recall, the only thing that was burned

to the back of Lilith's mind was how she had felt when the clear voice rang

through her distraught mind. She had hoped to experience again but her as-

sistance towards the undead had been scarce lately.

_Watch out._

Huh? A loud honk had aggressively pulled Lilith out of her own head and

caused her to step back. She hadn't realised that was about to cross the road.

Not that she was too far out to the road, nor was the car close to her, but the

local drivers loved honking their horns like a toddler would love to squeeze

toys that made sounds.

That feeling. She recognized it. "Jamie?" The name escaped from her mouth

without her realizing as she frantically looked around.

Nothing.

Of course, there wasn't anyone there, dead or alive. Why would Jamie come

back? He'd been gone for years now. "You're just crazy," she grumbled

softly to herself, but she couldn't stop the small smile that crept onto her

lips. "Or maybe just special," she said. Speaking to no one in particular, but

she knew that deep down, it was nothing crazy or special. Simply different.

Yeah, different.

_265_
