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Papa came home one day with a big wound just above his left eyebrow. He was bleeding, He was driving from Kajang town back to Sg Sekamat. He was 86. He fell when he was walking to the car and his forehead hit a small rock. He was bleeding and yet he drove home. I was 16. He had 15 stitches because of that. baby darling, sambung kat sini Click Here to Read More..

I switched off all my memories from the day Mama passed to the day Papa passed. All 12 years. I remember fractions of it. It’s like I moved it into another compartment in the memory, locked the door and threw away the key. I don’t know why I do it. I guess I get tired just reminiscing the family I once had, the what if’s, the regrets. It’s tiring, you know? It is not only the memories of my parents, it’s also of my friends, school, etc. I lock them away. Everyday was some kind of a battle for me. To go to school, to deal with emotions, to keep things to myself. I was so lonely. Those years were lonely. Click Here to Read More..