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Friday, July 5, 2013

Finale [fiction]

But you don’t know what I feel. You never do. You always yell at me about every little thing; how my hair is frizzy; how your tea is too hot, and how its not warm enough; how puffy my eye bags are; even how noisy it gets when I open the door. You always complain about everything, You always tell me to read more books, watch more news, eat more vegetables, drink more milk. You always tell me to do this and that.
I feel more like an investment that you need to prepare in every particular thing than your servant. You try to fix everything about me so that I’d be your good stake until you are ready to sell me anytime you want. What actually do you consider me as? Your son? Or are you just bored and need something to play with
Anyway I know you have been secretly dating my father. I always know. Do you know that I know?
When my father first brought me to your house, I was happy. I have never seen such a lovely house. Your house is this big building made from woods and have a big grass yard and is surrounded by pines. I love woods, I always do. Okay, I also love grass. And pine. I love your house. This house is just.. lovely. No better word. He said we would live here as your servants. Do you think I would buy that crap? Never did, never do. I used to think it was strange. It was just yesterday when I saw the news about that billionaire who fell sick and was disabled due to the stroke. The next day my father took me to his house, and introduced me to the wife. Suddenly, we all moved here. It was strange, but now I know why. I know how my father sneaks out almost every night and comes back in the dawn from your room. I see how you two look at each other. I know it. You both are disgusting.
Just now, I saw you both holding hands. I was just delivering tea to your room again (after you complained that you did not like the cup, whatever) and my father was there. Holding your hands. I intentionally dropped the cup, and ran out from the room. I just could not stand the idea of you two being together. How sick is that? You have a husband, for God’s sake! And you both are like, what, a hundred years old? Don’t you guys have other things to do beside feeding your lust like, I don’t know, praying or knitting or watching tv or playing chess for example?
I slammed the door and I did not care.
Today is my birthday, and you both have just ruined it.


I bet he doesn’t know what I feel. I can tell by his eyes that filled with hatred. I always yell at him about every little thing; how his hair is frizzy; how my tea is too hot, and how its not warm enough; how puffy his eye bags are; even how noisy it gets when he opens the door. I always complain about everything, I always tell him to read more books, watch more news, eat more vegetables, drink more milk.  I always tell him to do this and that.
Of course, I love him.
I want him to grow up to be a gentleman. I want him to be clever, and handsome, and healthy. I want him to be able to take care of his own. I want him to know how to act. I want him to have a wide knowledge. If only I can do it nicely.
When you first bought him to me, I was shocked. And thrilled. And confused. And happy. All at the same time. I could not believe I finally met him. The last time I saw him was when he was still a new-born. You directly took him away and both of you were gone. I know that it was something we both agreed at, but that did not mean it did not hurt. You always say how he has the same taste like me; how he likes the house, how he loves to arrange everything, how he loves to control everything, even how easy for him to be angry. He is indeed just the same as me.
Anyway, I know he knows you are my lover. Why would I not? He always pouts everytime I speak to you. Let him, I once said to you. Let him know and let him wonder, because what he does not know would not hurt him. At least not now. Perhaps it is better if he does not know at all, right?
This noon you came into my room. You looked so tense. I know what you were feeling; you were still in doubt. I smiled, and held your hands. Honey I love you, and I want you to do this for me, only you, I said this for the hundreds time. I ensured you how this was the best for all of us. You rejected. Your eyes looked teary.
He just dropped the cup and slammed the door.
Okay honey, if you don’t do this, you will lose us both, I said.
Anyway, happy birthday, young man.


She is crazy. I have been known from the very first, but still this is the craziest thing she wants me to do. Isn’t it enough for us to be together? What else does she possibly want?
Unless she has bought us all tickets to be together there, I’m not gonna take her to afterlife.
I decided to meet her this noon, I said it all. I said, honey this is finally a peaceful moment for us. Finally we can get your husband off of our back. You tried so hard to induce his stroke so that he is the same as dead for these years. I finally got in the house. I finally got to be with you. We finally live together. Aren’t these enough for you?
Of course, honey, she answered. Honey I love you, and I want you to do this for me, only you, I said this for the hundreds time. I ensured you how this is the best for all of us.
She kept saying that from the first time she asked me and I never did understand. I never do.
He just dropped the cup slammed the door.
Okay honey, if you don’t do this, you will lose us both, she said.
I stood in silence. You gazed.
Honey I am old. I am sick.  This cancer has been eating me, and I really really dislike the feeling of being sick. I am weak. I hate being weak. These pills that they give only cover the pain. They don’t cure me, honey.
She held me hands tighter, meaning she did not want me to interrupt.
I have nothing left to lose now. I made a mistake, honey. I should never bail on you. I should never be married with him. I should have been able to stand up against my family. I thought by having a baby with you, my mother would accept us. But I was wrong.
Reconnecting with you was my sweetest sin. After me and him got married, I never thought I would see you again. Years gone by. I finally gave him a daughter. I thought that was it; I thought me, him, and her would live just like that until the end of time. But then you came back. Telling me that our son was alive. I thought he was dead, you told me he was dead! So I have a daughter from him, and I also have a son from you. It makes me happy in some weird way, honey. I have always wanted to have a pair. Aren’t we?
Honey, I beg you. I beg you to do this. I have written a letter saying that my legacy will be divided into two, my daughter and my son. Yes, it may come as a surprise for everyone that I actually have a son but I think it is time for people to know the truth. Take it as his 20th birthday gift. Quite an angry boy we both have, no? I also need you to explain everything to him. Tell him I love him, and I’m sorry for being so hard on him. Tell him I regret every minute of us being apart. Tell him it kills me everyday to know I once threw him out of my life. Tell him sorry, but I just cant bear to look at him without feeling guilty. I am mad. I am pissed to myself, but I throw it all to him. I am really sorry fot that. Please tell him.
She held both of my hands, and had her final words.
Honey, please kill me.


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