Wednesday 4 April 2012

I wonder why things didn’t go my way...


Written by: Norazita Abdullah 5University of Leeds, 2010

                 " I wonder why things didn't go my way..." I told the magic words to my father, then he raised his eyebrow. His dimmed eyes were much colder now. I thought of my Graduation Day from the high school, two weeks left from today. The day was in a complete sadness when the three of us gathered in the solemn room. It was a damn cold morning when the tiny drops of rain scattered to the window, sparkled like thousand diamonds. Mother was leaning on the bed, her lips moved slowly and her breath gone incoherently as she saw my glistened eyes with unshed tears.
                    "Please be strong, mom. I want you to be there, on the Graduation Day!" I whispered to her numb ears. One of her frozen hands was locked in my father's while another one filled the gaps between mine perfectly. My father took her extremely cold hand to his chest, warmed it with his heartbeats of love. My mother started to gasp for air but nothing had eventuated. Her eyes bulged and her mouth agaped while her chest started to growl loud pitch of the sound of the pain. She breathed her last breath and slowly, her eyelids became smaller until all I could see was tiny slid, hiding the light that was sparkling into her eyes. There was nothing we could do now. Time had telescoped. The death had knocked on our door.
                I leaned my head on her breasts and buried my face onto her chest as I heard a great cried from my father that echoed the entire solemn room. Copious tears streamed down my face and I started to wail. I sobbed until my entire body was vibrating with it. I was accelerating with numbness and I was vulnerable with the sudden loss. I kissed her good morning on her cold forehead and to the both sides of her sunken cheeks. Things would never be the same after this. It never would because little did I know that promises pivoted on nothing but lies. Little did I know that love was fragile. Little did I know that all the things left behind were nothing but cried. Little did I know...
                After the great loss, my father who was on the top of the most people who had the sense of humor ranking in my life had become like a wild animal. He was almost better than Tom Bergeron in the American Funniest Home Videos before but he had turned to be a person who rather stayed awake when the others were sailing to their dreamlands. Eye bags were drawn on the lower part of his eyes. All of the things that happened in my life after the death of our beloved significant figure in the house made my sorrows multiplied as the clear image of mother suddenly crossed my mind. Vodka bottles were rolling on the floor and the sharp smell of liquor was spreading through the air. My father never touched those things before. If I could stay strong, why he should be so breakable?
              That night, when my father was gone for his another bottle of beer to the nearby shop, I entered his bedroom, actually, my father and my beloved late mother's bedroom. I unlock and opened the closet. I took one of my mother's most favourite black 'kebaya' and crushed it smoothly on my face. I closed my eyes and I could smell her scent now. I closed my eyes again and tried to concentrate in the mother's fragrance that was still on the 'kebaya'. I felt like she was locking me in her warmed embrace now. I undressed and wore the black satin kebaya. I felt like she was much closer to me now. I heard the uneven steps on the floor and I hurriedly buttoned the kebaya like I had been caught poking around in somebody else lingerie drawers when my father appeared on the door. I shouted for him not to enter the room but he had opened the door.
                  "Daddy!!" I tried to protest but I froze on the floor as I saw he was quivering in anger and I could hear the growling sound was building in his chest. I was too shocked to remember how to move. He staggered towards me with those groggy steps. He threw the giant alcoholic drink bottle to the wall. The crushing glass spread on the floor nearby and the foaming water was splashing on my face like it had been sprayed from a hose. The night was darker than the other night and the clouds were too thick for the moon to shine through. I still could hear the incoherent growling sound from his chest. His eyes were wild and the shaking rolled through him until I saw he was vibrating. His shape blurred.
               I recoiled as he slapped my right check. I held it with my right hand. It was warmed and hurt. He had become more aggressive. As the pain shot through me, I burst into tempered. He pushed me to the bed and I kicked his stomach by using both of my legs strength. He dumped onto the cold floor. The groaning sound of pain came out of his bruises lips. Thin streamed of blood came out of his lips. He stared at me wildly and he seemed cannot remember that I was his daughter that he had promised my mom to take care of.
He stood on his feet and began to crush the things on my head. My forehead was bleeding when he acted like an animal. 
                 "Darling, you're back. Welcome home..." he whispered to my ear the pressed his bleeding lips to my cheek then down to my throat. He made the circuit two times before I grabbed his baseball bat beside the bed and with all of my strength, I knocked it on his head. He stopped doing the ridiculous thing to his own flesh and blood when the great streamed of blood flow through his forehead, down his face. He fell beside me on the bed.
               I started to hum my lullaby that he used to sing it to me when I was a baby, according to my mother. He stopped breathing. I remembered of my oncoming Graduation Day. Tears refused to wet my cheek and I did not know why. I circled my hands across his chest and buried my face there, listening to the beatless heart. I fell asleep.
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