(a sequel to Angry Samaritan)
Bitch. That's what most of my guy pals called her when I told them my silly encounter.
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7th Jan 05
Kenneth accompanied me in the event of looking her up to demand the money back. Kenneth knocked on her door with me out of sight. After a few moments of silence, Kenneth tried the door, and it swinged open to display a vacant unit. Red walls and a seemingly dusty mattress laid in the centre of the living room, and nothing else. The switchboard above the door seemed pretty loused up as the dim room was only lit by the street lamps outside the windows. It echoed lightly as we called out for the bitch. (we called out her name, not bitch...)
So we decided to turn to the neighbours. The chinese lady on the right side had just moved in months ago, and she stated she had never seen her neighbour before.
Then we followed up with another neighbour on the left side. A malay man in his forties answered the door. Behind him were his kids, two to three of them, watching TV. We began to question about the bitch. On the mention of the neighbour, he turned his head behind and shooed his kids to go back to their rooms. The typical pot-bellied uncle then unlocked his gate to come out to the corridor with a pack of cigarettes. He went on to talk about this bitch in greater details...
She was recently released from the locked-up, followed by the release of her husband. They had three daughters. The malay uncle had helped in taking care of them as infants some years back. He claimed that I was not the first victim of her fraud. The previous man had lent her $450, and the bitch had even gave him the wrong address. She gave him the address of the unit next to hers. With that, I conceded that the chance of getting back the money is as good as nil.
We proceeded on to the policce station, intending to lodge another report on the incorrigible bitch. I was told to contact the Investigation Officer, but he had not got back to me til today, after 2 days... I wonder if he really gives a damn about it.
9th Jan 05
It was 10 days since I had survived without cash. A few lendings here and there had allow me to pass on the days indulging mostly on soda cream biscuits dipped in Milo, and instant noodles. This very Sunday, dinner was the only meal for the day. Coincidentally, it was so for dad and bro as well. Dad had slept his day through to wake up in time for dinner. Bro was sleeping as he had exhausted himself after a whole day facing the computer screen. Dad was going to eat out, and I tagged along. Scrapping the last $4 in my wallet, dad and I went separately to order our food. He had chicken rice while I had claypot rice. As we ate, I found things were not right. We did not order drinks. This was the first time I saw dad eating without his usual cup of kopi-o. The claypot rice was scorching my tongue. But still, we did not bother to ask each other what drinks to order. Or actually, we could not.
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While I can easily conned into believing in people's words, I am not swayed by beliefs and superstitions. I do not give in to religious beliefs, neither do I trust that good deeds eventually results in good returns. I don't agree that evil-doers suffer retributions. Retribution, to me, is an act of coincidence. Fate is a easy explanation for everything that happens on earth. I can only pray that the police do put in effort in hunting down the bitch, and prevent further recurrence of the fraud. I would not be surprise to see her get away scot-free. But before that, I would like to say to Farra, 'Fuck you bitch.'
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