Letter in Distress - Uncovered 2 Years Later

Dad has always been my hero. As an infant, I remembered his red Nissan. He drove me to Chong Shan Primary School in his grey Honda Civics. My friends awed as I alighted the dark grey BMW to Mayflower Secondary School. He subsequently drove a navy blue Benz which I never got much chance to sit in. I'm not acclaiming my dad to be my hero for his ability to change cars so often. From Malaysia, he came to Singapore as a amateur in woodscraft. Hard work paid off as he then started his own furnishing company by downgrading to the 2-room flat in AMK. The model of the car was corresponding to the sucess in his career. We moved to the current 2-storey apartment in Woodlands. It all came to an end, abruptly.

Misfortunes combo as the family splitted up. Betrayal. Mistrust. Perhaps a retribution, I almost convinced myself. What happened to mum almost 15 years ago, it was recurring on dad. This incident had lacerated me deeply. My 2 years in JC, especially the 2nd, was a rough period for me and my family. Many nights I had sat outside dad's room, in fear something terrible would happen. Recently, I just uncovered a letter I wrote during one of the nights, in distress.

I'm staring at the door. I dare not sleep, dun wana sleep, cant sleep. I fear they might set fire in the room, or jump out the window. This ain't the first time I'm sitting here, and it would be til morning again. Stepmum has been part of the happy family for the past 10 years. Aged only 12 years apart, we cliqued well.

One night dad came home, and told me," from now on, you must learn to take care of yourself." That same night, she bashed into my room, shouted for me, and his behind me, under cover. It was a night of emotional breakdown not only for the two of them. I had the shock of my life. It was a violent night. Everyone wasn't himself anymore. As if hibernated beasts were awakened.

Soon I got to know the insides of the story. Each of them told me a terrible fact about the other. I was disappointed at them. It's ugly, awful, heart shattering. Only I knew what had happened. Bro had no idea at all. I chided at my own naiveness. Once, she asked for my opinion. She said she was very unhappy in the family. She was utterly stressed out. Tired. And what an idiot was I to tell her, "everyone has the right to seek their own happiness. Deem which is the happy way out, and go for it... ..." What a damn bloody FOOL I was to tell her this. I did not realise marriage is bracketed by the legal bonds, finance, and commitments. Things that not a utterance of "seek your own happiness" can blanket over. In the pursuit for happiness, please take a look around. Would it bring the adversity to the others?

The following months were devastating. Death threats, suicidal thoughts, tears, anguish... They roamed the two-storey apartment unit. The house never looked so melancholy before. An incident nearly left the house charred if I had not stopped a impulsion to set a fire in the nick of time. The lighter was already lit. I can never dismiss the vivid scene of throwing away the oil-soaked clothes. I was near tears. Holding the hand with the fire, I exhorted, "why burn them? We can just throw them away!!"

Another night, I was at Gan's house overnight. The next day was a test. A call came at 3am. Fire threat, again. This time, my nerves seemed to have accustomed the shock. I pretended a worried, almost sobbing tone to calm him down. I did not want to go home after the test next morning. I did not wish to see fire engines and people crowding around my block, staring black smoke emitting the window at eighth floor. I sat in school, troubled. Til evening then did I pick up the courage to go home. When I reached the estate, I was relieved to see people jogging at the park, and kids playing soccer at the void-deck.

For the subsequent months, the sound of opening of the windows from his room never failed to speed up my heartbeat. Pressure was piling up inside me. I once broke down during GP lesson, desk overturned, chair fell, door slammed. I let it all out, bursting out suppressed tears, in the gents. That should have left the class astounded. And that had left me utterly disgraced.

2 years later... Things have definitely settled down. The saga reminded me of the 911 incident. The building collapsed. It was a tough time for the soul and mind. It wasn't easy accepting the reality. The debris snowed the area, waiting to be cleared. He had a rough time picking up himself, rebuilding the confidence he once proudly upheld. Years past as heartstricken people who never will forgive and forget. For him, things could never be the same again.

For me, things had changed over the years. Our relationship evolved into a stage whereby we don't see each other often. Birthdays and other special occasions are not celebrated. I do wonder why my friends would want to celebrate family member's birthdays. Wouldn't they feel akward? Sometimes I considered this running away, but I seek warmth in friends and look for love elsewhere. I'm happy when I see my friends and their blissful family, however, not envy. I can't help but sometimes feel that spending time with family is taking away time from me to spend with my friends. I feel quite bastard. Even though conscience stricken, I rather stick to having fun outside home. Anyway, no one is home most of the time. I know dad returns home every night only to face the walls. I felt his loneliness. I still don't make time for him though. Why is this so?