end of innocence part 3

my dad called last night, for the 2nd time in about 3 days. and for the 2nd time in 3 days, i have cried again to him on the phone, something that seems to be occurring the entire last week. the sad part is, i have no balls to tell him the truth behind my weepings, other than being homesick and being under stress.

the sadder side to it is, he is trying to comfort me and console me as best he could. if only he knew, he might get so fucking angry that he might have a heart attack and pass out. i don’t think i can risk that now because as it is, i am still recovering from the last death. my brain might split open if anything happens to my own family.

in my family back then, there was a lot of ambiguity with regards to money. my mum had leech money off the pockets of my dad’s because he had leave his pants around the house with all the money inside it. How my mum puts it to the family is often very clear though. “his money is mine, my money is mine.” that was how she had go around telling everyone.

the 50 dollars that i found though, and back in those days it was quite a huge sum, not just because we were poor, but 50 dollars for a 6 years old is a HUGE thing, and i decided that it was mine since i found it.

i brought it to school the next day and started showing it off. Like i said, it was a HUGE thing to have a 50 dollar note in hand for a 6 years old, and no one has really seen a 50 dollar note in my class before, so i started showing it off. Being theft upon was never an issue for me, because i have never really thought that people would bother to steal from me any ways, it just wasn’t… like something i knew well.

thieves only occurs in story books and tv, or so i thought.

so, i started splurging on my new found “friends” because everyone crowded around me. i bought lotsa silly stuff, like pretty erasers, scented erasers, mechanical pencils (they were rare back then, everyone sharpen their lame wooden pencils), flutes and shit. some were for me, but i reckon i spent more on my friends than anything else.

back home, my mum obviously discovered she lost 50 dollars because when i went home, she started searching frantically for her missing 50 dollars and started chanting about it. i started getting scared because i realised what i just did:

i blew her 50 dollars on stupid stuff like giving shit to my friends and buying stupid stuff for myself.

in my fright, i did not dare to tell her what i did. i kept quiet and sat in my corner.

The next morning though, she came into my classroom, to pass me a book that i left at home. suddenly peoplpe start going up to her, asking her when is she giving me another 50 dollar allowance again.

i paled in mid stand.

then, suddenly, a whole bunch of people started lining up, claiming that i owed them money. 5 dollars, one dollar, stupid amounts of money that they never usually have because most of us have barely enough to go to school with, despite the difference in riches. but still they claimed they loan me that much.

my mum acted nice to them, eyebrows raised at me. i didn’t dare to sit in the car after school.

the entire ride home was full of shouting and pinching, tears and pleading. when i reached home, dad was home, which obviously was a sign of how bad the situation has become. i told my dad that i found it, but he still caned me and said that i was a liar and a thief. he made me apologise to my mum, and i plead her for forgiveness, despite knowing that i did NOT steal it.

well at least not in my opinion.

then my mum kicked me away. and told me to get lost.

i think that was the start of when i started hating my mum.

all these years, i have been striving for nothing but her approval. i was on my knees, begging her to forgive me, BUT SHE KICKED ME AWAY. she has always pushed me aside, like i didn’t matter.

when everything cooled down 2 weeks later, our family was going out on our usual sunday treat. mum said something real mean to me, which i can’t remember now what it was. i got upset, and ran a little bit, before jumping up and landing a tight harsh slap across her face, and told her to go to hell.

oh yes, the rebellious little me. it was starting to show that i had enough of her and her abuse. of course dad was not happy about it, but i didnt care. he told me off and slapped me too, but for all that was worth, i had slapped her and left my mark. and that, somehow was satisfying.

in the car later on, i said my first ever threat to her when she started going on again about how retarded i was.

“if you are not careful, i will throw you into an old folk’s home when you are older and just dump you there.”

this just in, and i don’t know why i keep laughing about it. Chemistry building in uni just went bang, and now smoke’s everywhere and alot of people were evacuated from the nearby buildings, which extended all the way to union court, which is about 500 meters or more away.

that’s why i have started believing in karma again.