Why I am who I am.

When I was young, I wondered why I only have mops, and why I took on her surname.

Kids in school bullied me because they knew there was no one to back me up. I was shoved to hit the wall, and they yanked at my hair. There were 3 of them. I will always remember the face of the person who almost pulled out my hair. I will always have a grudge on people of that race.

The menace of the household was released from prison when I was in Primary 5. I remembered the first time I saw him after returning home from school. Life was never the same again since that day.

Parangs wrapped in thick newspapers were stashed at different corners in the house. The household was filled with the most vile language. I was exposed to all the profanities that can be found in an encyclopedia of profanities (if there was one).

He would always threaten to beat me up when he came home drunk. He almost did once. I put a pair of scissors to his throat, and I almost jabbed it in. My hands were trembling, I was frightened. I couldn't remember what happened after that. I was only in Secondary 1.

When I learnt how to stand up to him, he threatened to beat up gramps and mops. I had to learn how to stand up for the three of us collectively. I developed a temper that will frighten everyone, including myself if I went out of control. I also developed the strength to hurl a chair across the living room.

In the midst of all these, I always felt that mops hated me. I was caned with all the things you can find in a household. The cane, feather duster, bamboo pole, broomstick, and the classic scene of the badminton racquet. New scars replaced the old, newer scars replaced the new scars. I still remember how the splitting flesh looked and felt like. She would hug me and cry everytime after she hit me. I guess that was how she coped with the stress of having to raise me by herself.

And all these years I continued to sleep with a pair of scissors hidden underneath my mattress every night. Life at home was only normal for the fleeting periods where he was put back into jail again.

When I was in Secondary 4, gramps became real sick. He was 70 at that time, and he was still working as a welder. No one gave any attention to his hacking coughs in the middle of the night.

I took on the responsibility, and dragged him to the polyclinic one fine day. He was immediately referred to the hospital. I took a cab down with him, it was just the both of us. That was the first time he was brought into the A&E. The doctor diagnosed him with kidney failure. I was alone in the waiting area when they broke the news to me. I was the first to find out.

I had to break the news to the family that only reached the hospital after I called them one by one.

Gramps refused to go for a dialysis. Everyone in the family let him be because no one wanted to go against him. Gramps developed pneumonia from fluid accumulation in the lungs soon after. The doctors told us that he wasn't going to make it unless they removed the fluid from the lungs. I made the decision for gramps to undergo dialysis and I forced him to sign on the dotted line. I ignored what everyone had to say because I knew that it wasn't a time for wishy washiness.

I also told gramps that he needed to let them start him on dialysis because he's really ill and the dialysis will really help to make him feel better. I also lied to him and left out the part that dialysis is a life-long treatment.

Up to this day, I still feel the guilt of bringing him to the polyclinic on that fateful day. I still feel the guilt of forcefully putting him on dialysis for the rest of his life. I still wonder if I did the right thing. I wonder if he ever blamed/ hated me for the pain that he has to go through. I still wonder.

The day that I had to tell gramps that he will have to go for dialysis for the rest of his life.. was one of the worst, if not, the worst day of my life.

Gramps couldn't work anymore since then. I emptied my savings to pay for his dialysis. Mops used up all the money that we had before she could find a job. We were so poor we couldn't afford to buy a loaf of bread.

I became obsessed with the power of money since then.

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If you have known me for years and never knew about any of the things mentioned above, it's because I never told anyone about my past.

Will this change the way you see me from now on?