My everyday’s cycle of life once roll at the fingers of anyone.

I really don’t know why, but, I must.

 

 

Pretty amateur; since, I really don’t know what they’re saying, telling. Their faces are huge, smiling, happily, looking back at me, for their hands that I'm seeing is moving above at my head. I can feel the warmth that I’m seem secured.

 

Approximately, I’m now at the floor, staring at the flowers. Children, I now recognize, are happily playing at the vacant lot. Somehow this child’s hand, near my vision, want to grab those playmates I'm seeing.

                                                                                                             

My feelings rise, warmth that I seem jealous; however, heaven knows, this desire won’t happen.

 

Woken up from that dumb dream, I'm seeing the now I've recognized brother. He’s so silent with the plane thin white something; and the yellow stick on his hand. He’s at the table.

 

A female that I always called ‘Ma’ twisted my brother’s ear. I can't understand what they’re doing.

 

I've found some stick and grab it. For some reason, alongside these some papers with lines below the scribbles, I draw those scribbles inside the lines.

 

A female I've recognized related to me was shock and called my ma. For some reason, many persons in my vision that I recognizes are surrounding me happy, while gracefully warmth feelings widen my chest.

 

Too fast that now I’m at a table, I know I’m writing. My parents taught me some knowledge about school and animals. I’m currently sketching fish and cat to link them to their name. By the time my chubby a grandma teacher turns to write something at the green board, I duck myself under the table and my classmates behind my seat chuckles.

 

Slowly sneaking, until I see someone skirt. I grab that skirt as I bury my face to that white…

 

She jerks up and she tries to push me away by her hand.

 

Laughing, cheering surrounds the air as she starts gripping my hair whereas I’m pushing her shoulders away from me. She scratches my face, whereas, now I’m trying to remove her hand.

 

Our teacher stops the commotion, and she sends both me and the girl outside, squatting. No talking as awkwardness I've felt, and she’s mad.

 

Whenever I look, she does avert her face.

 

I disobey the punishment and grab her hand. Her face turns confused and afraid. Looking for things so that I could grab her attention, I gain her approval when my finger point at the ball and the court.

 

Playing, dribbling using both hands, and throw the huge ball full force. We both laugh and sit at the floor. It won’t even reach the ring net. The lights shine upon us as her smile attracts my attention. It grabs my heart.

 

I sit near beside her, we're now talking nonsense. Laughing as the topic changes, escalating, exaggerating.

 

Our teacher finds out and back to squatting again, whereas; books are weighting on our wrists.

 

After the class; now, my mother twists my ear; but, that girl’s mother didn’t. Instead; the girl tells something to her mother. Her mother is so happy.

 

My mother instructs me to apologize and I'm crying. Everyone is watching. I've begun mumbling, can’t even glimpse at the girl face.

 

It so hurt, embarrassing. But, words of apologize, slowly spit out from my lips.

 

Each day that passes, my and that girl’s communication is so friendly, but my habit on sneaking for someone skirt won’t disappear.

 

 

As I open my eyes, it's so dark, silent…

I glimpse where I clearly see an image.

Someone is lying at the floor. I’m guessing it's my mother.

 

I crawls out, only to realize I've crawled out under the bed. My mother is bathed with some sticky fluid. I've shoved her many times but she won’t wake up. I'm afraid as I yells, nobody reply. I’m now scared.

 

I've stood and I walk. Trying to reach the doorknob; finally I manage to twist it.

 

I'm now standing inside the living room, what a quite mess up. Dividers are slanting on the chairs. Glass table is broken to pieces. T.V is prone to the floor. The door outside is open.

 

As I've walked near the door, I see father lying in the kitchen, bath with some liquid, that I can’t clearly identified. I’m so scared. No matter how I shake him, he won’t wake up. My will is shaken, and I cried many times. I really don’t know what’s happening.

 

Tears pour much while I'm crying. I become alone that no one is around to stop me; a warm caring voice, where I’m feeling secured, reminds me. I lean sitting at the column, and lean my head on my wrists. My heart started to cold, and my tears dried on my cheeks.

 

I stare at the dawn light on my feet…