» わたしのこと «

The writer does not intend to but tends to make silly remarks that make others laugh. Sometimes she enjoys this unintentional trait of hers, and sometimes she detests it. But nevertheless, she loves to laugh at silly things, both good and bad, mostly little silly things, because she finds that life is too short to spend it sulking away. She also tends to be sarcastic with her words because the subtlety of dry humour makes her laugh even more and lightheartedly at those who "just don't get it."

» ぜんかい «

How to Measure Life?

Doors of the New Year

A Christmas Raptor

Mourning and Miscellaneous

Escape

My Imaginary World

December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
July 2008
March 2009

» ともだち «

Adrian - Aloy - Cat - Daniel
Dawn - Druce - Faith - Jim
Karen - Kim - Kyoko - Matt
Miss M - Nicholas - Nova - Sel
Sherina - Tuna - Verbalme
Xiaohui

» おしゃべり «

» かんしゃ «

Sara - Blogger

Her Little Secrets

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

On a rainy day not unlike today, she stared as the drizzles of raindrops fell on her windowpane like all the tears she had shed before. She recalled what was called, ‘her little secrets’, simply because they were hers and they were untold. Ever since she was a child, she did not tell her little secrets because most of what she could remember were bad memories and she did not like bad memories. She had acquired the habit of mentally blocking all the bad memories; a habit which gradually evolved to a task so easily done, it became unconscious to her as she grew older.



She cried the day her mother took her to the hairdresser’s when she was six.

“It’s only a trim,” her mother said.

Her mother had lied. The trim became a clean snip that severed half the hair she had dearly loved. It was compulsory, her mother had explained later. She did not understand what that meant. It was not the word, “compulsory” that she did not understand, it was “why compulsory”.

A few days later, she stepped into Primary School for the very first time. She did not cry. Other girls were sobbing hard, refusing to let go of their parents’ hands. Instead, she told her mother to go home. She looked at the other girls and she finally understood why. In the sea of white and blue uniforms, every girl looked almost identical in their bowl-shaped hairstyle.



A year later, her mother told her she had to move to a new Primary School because they were shifting to another area and no school bus was available from their new house. She did not understand why she had to leave her friends. She lost her best childhood friends as a result.

But she did not cry. She knew it wasn’t for her to choose. Besides, what she lost in one area, she gained in another. She had learnt this early in life.

Her parents wanted a better life for the kids and had decided to purchase a landed property. They could now afford better food instead of the daily meal of sticky porridge with soya sauce that made the porridge resemble brown gruel. They could now afford to have presents for the kids twice a year, during birthdays and Christmases, so that every six months, she would carefully plan what to get within the restricted budget because opportunities like these were few. They could also afford to go on a family trip to America. To a girl who had never been further than Malaysia in all her eleven years of life, America was the world to her. It was her first real trip abroad.

On the first day of her new Primary School, she was regarded with much curiosity initially and later disdain. Her classmates were comfortably settled in their own groups so she bounced around the groups. The bigger girls taunted her even though she wasn’t very small for her age. They disliked her weird ways. She kept to herself, avoiding answering questions in class even though she had no problems doing that in her previous school. She decided to befriend a plain, four-eyed girl in her class, who was perpetually salivating and whom the other girls shunned and called her names. Despite that, they became best friends.

Making friends became easier after that. She had learned the skill of choosing her friends. That was how she survived Primary School.


She hated her Secondary School at the start. She did not ask to go to a school which was an hour of bus rides away from her home. But she was posted there because her grades were not good enough for the better schools in her area. She hated not being good enough for anything. She promised herself that she would score much better the next time round and go to a better school. And she did, eventually. She topped her class every year, with the exception of the first year when she came in second. Her grades were a breeze to her. Her social life, on the other hand, suffered.

She isolated herself because she felt that her aim in this school was to score better grades, not to make friends. Her classmates found her weird and avoided her even more because of her grades. Eventually, she found a group of friends, some of whom were rowdy and popular in school. She trusted them and did not even discover until the end of Secondary School that they were the culprits who played a nasty prank on her. She cried when she realised that she had been stabbed in the back by the people she considered friends. They apologised and she forgave them but through this she had learnt something that she would never forget: the important lesson of betrayal.


Through her early experiences of interacting with others, she had learnt that they did not condone strangeness. So she learned to keep two faces: one of a cheerful and friendly smile and the other containing all her sorrows and eccentricities.

However, as she grew older, she realised that the two were swiftly entwining with each other because only in their fusion can her true character be manifested. Despite her constant fears that others will ostracize her when they discover her true self, she has learned that she cannot and will not please everyone.

Therefore, she has since decided to write this story, a story of truth and most importantly, of her little secrets.

8:06 pm
クロサギ