Happy Mother's Day, Doriati Abdullah. My Mom.

So today I realized it’s the second week of May, which means…Mothers Day. Not my fault should I noticed it late, as this 2 particular days had been spent with countless efforts to patch up my group’s unorganized duties.  Not meaning of self-empowerment, but it is an occurrence I often expressed in disgrace on the social network, where no one gives a damn.  People who manipulates and slobbers around, how are they qualified for university entrance? Very frustrated, but this entry is not about those nonsense.  It’s about the person who constantly being shrouded in conflicts, my beloved figure called MOM.  As it’s Mother’s Day, I had sent her a message prior (admit, I thought it falls on last Friday, so I mentioned it early) at 4.58 a.m., after my suffering ends.  Today, she constantly called me from early morning, so I thought something’s amiss. But today, she colours up my so-tangled up reality.  This entry is about an experience that I had during my 6^th former year, back to 3 years ago.  So, reminder: THIS STORY IS AUTHENTIC, NO FALLACIES.  

During those days of me in Form 6, I’m always shrouded in dilemma, as I’ve literally lost will to continue those harsh mornings where I got yelled, and kicked for just preparing to school.  It’s an experience I don’t want to remember, as it’s the bastard’s deed that shapes up my other side of darkness.  So, I often experience migraine during those days as I’m adjusting my timetables to the WORST adjustment studying people may encounter.  People’s wee hours became my active timings, where I usually sleeps at 10.30/11.00 p.m., then wakes up again at 3 a.m. to do work.  I find that those hours are the most tranquilizing, as the utter silence enables me to focus on my tasks better than when humans linger around.  My migraine worsens as my family constantly (I used a lot of “constantly” this time, notice?) quarrels like hell.  Believe me, like I mentioned earlier if other teenagers experience it before me, they’ll be long time vanished from this world.  So, I’m absent a LOT from school, missing those Economy classes that I failed to catch up until the end.  People always wonder why my absentee becomes a consistent variable.  Furthermore, teachers had started to treat me differently, like I’m some sort of retarded adolescent.  Well, I can take it.  This happens after the PLKN incident, so I’m used to when people try to call me an oblivious idiot of society.  There’s a few accounts where my best pal (her name is Wong Kin Yap, we get along SUPER WELL during those STPM study weeks) informed me about the happenings in my class during my absence.  Teachers acknowledging my family conflicts, even my so-called “best pals” (it’s the top scorers in my class, don’t want to mention their initials, however we’re still bonding now and not that intimate as before) called me a “SENILE RETARD OF SHYNESS”.  I mean, if they acted like that during my presence, I’ll give them a beating, ignoring their genders.  It’s passed by my own self already, lived on these 3 years.

So, the incident happened during 1 of my family quarrels, on a Sunday.  I was so tensed by the commotion that I nearly fainted.  My mother just allowed me to lay on the couch (it was 10.30 p.m., on a Sunday) and asked me to be patient.  I almost blow my brain nerve that time, literally.  The second day after that, I found myself deprived of mental efficiencies to even attend school.  So, I once again being ABSENT from the thorny compound they called “Safe House”.  I laid on bed, unnoticed that my body is burning with fever.  My situation worsens until my mom eventually returned from school, about to attend to her second occupation: the tuition centre.  My mom asked the bastard should he acknowledge that my situation worsened.  And you know what did he say? “He’s lying to you, he did that so he could lay in bed whole day.  Useless…”.  I almost awoken in anger, as the MAN is the beast that’s shrugging my mental perception every day.  My mom gave me some medicine, besides instructed me to lay in bed until I feel better.  My condition got better that night, however not the migraine.  Right about 11 p.m. that day, my fever burned to the extent that I clamped under 2 thick bed sheets to escape the coldness of humidity that’s 28 degrees.  Imagine that.  My mom worried and asked the bastard to take some of his medicine (which she believe would be more potent as it’s an adult portion).  When he did fetched them, my mother fed them to me right away.  Actually, he fed me his HEART ATTACK MEDICINE.  I checked the bottle and, not surprised.  That night, I feel like dying I tell you.  Like my life’s going to end at that particular spot.  Listening to my own weakening breath, shivering below 3 pillows, shielded below 2 blankets, I haven’t found a soul mate yet.  I don’t want to die young, not knowing what caused my suffering.  So I prayed silently to God, having mercy of all my sins in all my livings, even towards that animal. 

A few days after my weakening state, my mother shouldered me to the clinic, accompanied by that guy who pretends that his work is everything, telling us to finish the appointment in 15 minutes as he needs to rush for work.  He’s loitering there, I noticed that a long time ago.  If else, how does he need to  inquire me to type all his tasks, those Excel & Word tasks that an officer should be savvy in performing?  We went to our usual family clinic, where the doctor from my perspective is quite unreliable (because every medicine that he gave me in the past doesn’t suit its purpose), perform the routine…bla bla bla. You know the usual clinic medical ethics.  As the check-up finished and I got to engulf some 7 medicines (just like when I checked at our university’s clinic 2 weeks ago), my mother shouldered my weak and wobbly body to a chair, where she herself stands by the bustling crowd.  I really admire her courage to take a leave that day (she’s a teacher, I mentioned it before).  She NEVER took it even though she’s heavily sick, as she had a perfect attendance record in school.  I feel so sorry with the situation.  You know what the bastard, who disappeared from our sight did while we’re gone? Chatting with some stranger “it” met at the roadside.  I, almost fainted and blacked out, struggled to rise from the chair to allow my mom to have a seat.  I know she’s tired, taking care of me (feeding me, walking me, monitoring my health progress during those wee hours) but still courageously stood like her own stern self that propels her through what she’s in today.  Then, the bastard came slowly, asking should we go eat breakfast as he’s empty.  My mom shrugged, directing him to send us straight home.  Then, what pissed me to the boiling point is what he said after:”I’m hungry, I don’t give a damn about you people.”.  What despicable God’s creation he is.

Precisely 2 weeks after that, I forced myself back to school, as I thought that my weakened state would only leave my mom strained with overload works.  I pushed myself, even though I couldn’t focus in most of the lessons.  I’m busy answering “press conference” about the factors behind my 2-week absence.  Well, I’m “popular” prior my entrance to UPSI.  Can’t wait until the 12.45 p.m. bell rang.  It finally did.  So, I walked slowly, crutch by my own figure, slanting to the wall’s side while empowering myself to the school gate.  Then, I saw that bastard already awaiting for me there.  Must be my mom who’d sent him to fetch me.  As I exited the school compound, he effortlessly snatched my bag pack, holding it from the back, tilting it upwards like he’s helping a handicapped child.  Everyone’s glaring that time.  He continuously performed that funny act all the way until we reached his car.   By that time, we already invited quite some crowd.  My face turned red tomato in the spot.  I f you don’t want to help, why act care? Why feign kindness?  I tossed the thoughts aside as I can’t wait to reach home.  When we eventually overcame the 10-minute peak hour traffic, I was relieved to stepping into the ceramic floor that is my home.  You know what did that guy did? Throw my bag to the ground, while running to the kitchen, filling himself in less than 5 minutes.  Is he that hungry? Even up until now, when I’m having semester break, he’s still doing the same like he’s working at 3 construction site of some sort.  Could anyone be THAT HUNGRY? My mother, like expected, stared at his commotion while kindly attending to my wobbly state.  I mean, at that moment I realized that nobody’s that dedicated to attend to your well-being, like Mom did.

So up until now, whenever I saw my mother being ordered around into performing idiotic decisions pertaining that guy, while suffering and crying every single night, praying at the bedside before we resides to sleep, I feel miserable as her children.  Except my salary, helping her with house chores & school tasks, I never give her anything special.  So, I pledge that my convocation is the best gift I could think of (sounds dramatic, but it’s TRUE).  For this entry, I regret that I MISJUDGED YOUR DECISIONS.  You are just trying to protect the fate of this corrupted family.  So, as the most eldest I presume (my elder sis’s PHD won’t guarantee that she’ll be our house’s supporting pillar, and my brother, well, he’s quite a bit lost in his reality) to my little brother’s side, I will try to lift this burden from your shoulder no matter what it takes.  Mom, you are my precious 1.:-)

HAPPY..............................................

 MOTHER’S.......................................

DAY............................................

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                                ALL......................................

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