crappy

I remembered when I was a child. The world seems humongous. The bed is like a swimming pool where imagine I was a wrestler, wrestling the pillow. I was born with a really fair skin. Hard to believe, isn’t it? When I was born, the whole community wondering why? Some of them would congratulate my parents to have such adorable child. But some of them, envy every little bit of my family. I can’t explain why, but I suffered a really disgusting skin disease that makes a really good impact towards my parents. My mother wept and my father seems to ignore me. But a weird thing happened when my parents wanted to name me. Never before my grandmother wanted to name her grandchild, she wanted to add a name to me.

For 5 years, I can’t speak but I can read. I’ve tried to speak, but nothing came out of my mouth. I can’t even make friends with others. My mother worried sick of her child. My life is purely lonely at that time and the TV is my best friend. But a best friend is not always perfect. I’m terrified of commercials. I close my eyes and cover my face whenever it appears. That’s not all, this one disgusting thing I like to do, a dirty little secret I assume, that is nose picking. Not just an innocent nose picking, no. Needless to say, that I ate it. The creamy, salty and a bit texture make it addictive. I wonder, that’s why I have no friend at all.

Just imagine a house with a wooden wall. Not the properly align, hard and cheap wood. Just a thin cardboard wood as the wall and blocks of unused furniture wood as its frame. The roofs are made from zinc and the earth as the floor. The house has only living room and a kitchen. The bathroom is the contaminated river at back of the house. There are many houses that are attached to each other and it is located near a big city. That is the house I grew up until I was 4 years old.

Every morning my grandmother and my sister go out to find leftovers at the nearest garbage disposal site or bought it at the nearest market if we had some money, before she left for school with my brothers. It sounded like I pretty much lying the whole thing. Why would I lie? To get your sympathy? What I wrote is just ten percent of what I’ve been through.

I skip ahead when world seems pretty nice. We moved out of our old house and end up at the place where I live now. A normal two storey house and bathrooms. The neighborhood was nice and it is a proper place than before. I started to speak when I was 5 years old. Kindergarten was the fun place to be at my age. Until I had my own bicycle. My priceless possession at that time. For the first time I be able to free myself from the house. I started to hate kindergarten. They were all learning what I have learned. How to spell, ABC’s and stuffs. Later, I stop to go to kindergarten and stayed home. At home, I started to learn how to steal. I steal from shops and even my mother. I stole stickers, tiny hot wheels car and much more. The bad habit was gone until I had an accident with my bicycle. That’s is the worst thing possible I can write, here. I'll continue later.