I do not have a good childhood. The only memorable time I could remember it was when I sat behind the closed door, a door closed from all connections of human, scratching my forearm till little red bumps starts to appear on it.
That moment was the moment I felt alive.
Ever since young, even till now, I had little self-esteem. Well, there are days where I feel fabulous like Beyoncé too, however, those were the rare days. Well, I am a plain Jane, an average Joe, who excels at nothing but being average. If you were to ever met me on the street, you wouldn’t even bother to take a first look at me.
One thing for sure, I know that was not average was my out of proportion buttock. Before hitting puberty, I have a rather normal body, where everything was in proportion. Once it hits me, my buttock decided that it’s time for them to shine. BOOM, they’re big now.
There was this one time I went to Malaysia to visit my maternal side of the family. My Grandparent owns a business. They sold Kuei along the road side and had a lot of regular customers. Some of them even bought Kuei from them for years! There will be a few customers who would buy Kuei in bulk for their own business. Sometimes if I’m feeling helpful, I would wake up in the middle of the night and help them out.
And then there is this particular customer.
He is a half a century old Chinese uncle who drove a van that a pedophile would drive. The very first moment I saw him, I disliked him immediately. He was so friendly to my Aunt who was helping out. Then, he saw me. My Aunt quickly introduces me to him as the Singaporean kid who was having holiday. He seemed pretty impressed to know that I’m a Singaporean, I mean, which Singaporean kid is willing to help out with business in the middle of the night right.
For the next few days, I went down to help my Grandparent and without fail, he would be there to purchase Kuei in bulk. Every time I see him, fear and feeling of disgust grew. He was like that overly-friendly obese uncle who would try his best to have himself around you, except that he was not obese.
I was minding my own business, then…
I felt a firm grip on my buttock. A grip that was obviously not mine, a grip that sent me to a state of shock.
I stare unbelievingly at nothing, my jaw dropped, but no sound was heard. My eyes widen to disbelieve. Slowly, I turned to my right, only to saw a face that I would kill to not see it for even one. He was looking back at me with a blank smile, a smile that would send anyone’s spines to chill.
I walked to my aunt and told her what happened, hoping to find justice in the matter, only to have my hope all crashed.
"Come, touch one time for $50."
For the whole time later, I was helping out like nothing happen, needless to say, it was all an act. I was trembling terribly inside.
Once I reached home, I went to the room immediately. Door shut tight, locked, I sat against the door in the cradle position. His smile was plastered in my mind. Slowly, I held my hand to me, baring the forearm. With another hand, I started to create long, thin, red scratch marks. Every scratch marked was like erasing the scenes of the horror. I sat there, scratch, and scratch and scratch.
What happened again?
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It's an assignment by this module called Story Telling. I didn't sign up for this shit.
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