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“Desire is not for the naked eye to see, but for the heart within.”

HoA - Childhood times

Before I was 10 years old, I could see the world through my mind. The world was so bright and colorful. With a thought, flowers bloomed. Timeless creations appear before my eyes with swing of my finger.

I could see things that weren’t logical. Sometimes, there were voices whispering in my ears pulling me awake during the night. When I was 12, my parents taught me they were called a child’s fantasy. That those dreams will disappear when I grew up. I didn’t believe them.

At the night before Mother’s Day, I begged my father to bring me to the store to buy some food. I was still a 13-year-old boy trying to please my mother then. So when I saw a trail of glitters on the floor, I thought it was a road leading me to a magical world. I pulled away from my father’s grasp and ran off not knowing that my father wasn’t aware of my missing presence.

In the eyes of the little boy, the shelves of the supermarket started to mold into a spiral twirl. My mind screamed adventure, there were mysteries to solve and nothing’s going to stop me. I could feel my giggle echoing back at me.  When I looked back, the scenes behind me started disappearing one another. It was scary. Like a black endless pit catching up on me. My light pace broke into a terrified sprint. The short legs I run with felt so slow as my body started getting heavier.

It was like a dream back then. I kept running and running. When I opened my eyes, I was already outside the store. There were people running to me with panicking faces. Someone picked me up. I was scared but I knew whatever that was trying to eat me was gone. Sleep was all I could think of. There was no energy left to fight back the heavy eye lids. That night, I dosed off in the arms of a stranger, and also the last time I saw my father.

~~ (Beware of the 10 years’ time jump):

My name is Alan, an old part-timer working on a design project due tomorrow. I’ve been living in this worn-down apartment after getting kicked out by the last landlady for the stinking smell coming from my room.

The work was eating the life out of me. I glanced up at the pile of dump that was nibbling away at the corner of my room. I’ve been careful not to eat food that will leave a rotten smell after leaving them at the corner. Soon enough, water and electricity will stop coming in if I don’t step out this room and pay my bills.

When I say old part-timer, I meant the shut-ins who never step foot outside of the door. I do what people with a lot free time usually do. I play games, watch movies and sleep through the day. Sometimes I would receive a phone message from my mom telling me she would come over tomorrow. And the best part about that is my room would finally have a clear path from the door to my computer.

I picked up the book under my desk and a cracking sound came along from my back. “Ouch.”

I glanced at the bottom of screen. Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. Come to think of it, it has been a long time since I told my mother about it. It was also the same day my father died under the crash 10 years ago. There was an unpredicted earthquake occurred around the area that night that crushed the building and trapped my father under it. There were few injured but death count was only one. We were told that my father didn’t come out from the store as the building was collapsing.

My mom cried endlessly when we received the news that day. Being hugged by my mother felt like I was getting choked by guilt. I knew, that my father went searching for me. And I knew, everything was my fault for running off by my own. Even after being told it was a miracle someone found me outside of the store that night, the lingering guilt didn’t go away.

I stood up from my chair and opened my wallet deciding that I would get food for her when she comes over tomorrow. Or so I hope after seeing my penniless wallet. I let out a sigh.

“Would a cup noodle do well as a Mother’s Day gift?”

I mentally slapped myself.

Turning the door knob felt strange, I had no doubt that I’ve become a strange human being. I walked out of my apartment then turn to the corner at the end of the road.

It was dark out and the dim streetlights aren’t giving any help to the people walking at night. I tugged my hands in my pockets and breathe in the chilly night air.

The night was silent. I walked at my own pace peacefully down the road. From far ahead, I could hear fast approaching footsteps. I stopped on my track and curiously turn around to see a man with a black coat heading toward my direction.

The man had bloodshot eyes and shouted, “Sneaky bastard, I told you to give me the money!”

I took a step back, confused.

Everything went by so fast.  My body froze up when that man came up close to me. Next second, I could hear his maniac laughter blazing through my ears. I took a few steps back.

"Ah-h--" was all I could let out. I unconsciously clutched my stomach and looked down. My eyes popped out at the bloody stain on my clothes. As if losing my mind, I let out a high pitch cry and fell to the ground.

A dark shadow loomed over me and his face came closer to mine. He spat on my face, "You got what you deserved, asshole."

My senses have started to feel numb, I could feel myself losing touch with the pain. The crazy man lifted his legs above my stomach, and shot down with his heavy boots. And down again. And again. Until he was sure his victim was no longer breathing, he stopped.

"…I want to see you again, mom.”

--

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