Where should I begin?
It started in one lovely moment when I was in the second grade of elementary school. I was such a cute, fat-but not that fat, and happy girl. I was happy 'cause the moment I remember is when I ran around the school yard with my friends, playing cat and mouse. I was in the perfect white and red uniform with white socks tucked in clean shoes. I ran around and laughed till at the same day I had the biggest question ever that I asked God until now: why?
I don't understand why God creates us a whole package of life but we only could remember some happenings that occurred in our life? I mean.. I remember bad things too much -- it doesn't mean that I don't remember any good moments to remember, but I always remember the moments that I would know I'm going to remember for the rest of my life.
And every time I remember how everything turned out into gray, I couldn't help myself. I was hurt. And, still.
It was actually year 1994.
I was only 5 years old when my parents sent me into elementary school. My kindergarten headmaster said to my mom,
"Ma'am, she's almost good at everything. Reading, writing, maths, drawing, even controlling herself."
What she said was the first good thing I've ever heard.
But then I hoped that she would swallow back her words and let me stay for one more year spending my childhood as a kindergarten student. I didn't mind being wrong all the time, if she thought that I was always right. I didn't mind being alone for one year straight as it always be without my mom inside the class, helping me with my drawing or maths.
Well you know, I was almost alone.
I had friends, of course. Boys, girls, but I forgot who they were. Except a boy who lived near my kindergarten. He was my best friend, but I forgot his name. I don't care about his name.
Then as it should be, I started elementary school when I was five.
It only took five years of my life for tragedy to arrive. He later knocked on my door and brought the most evil smile.
Here I tell you:
I didn't hate myself. I didn't hate people around me. I just hate how the situation turned out to be. And no one to blame, 'cause everyone is innocent. It happened as it should be and I opened myself up and agreed.
But some spot that was left behind will always be remembered. It bothered me and it will always. I couldn't clean it. I could see it but I couldn't touch it.
So if you ask me to go time travel, what is the time it should be? It's 1994. It was everything had started and ended.
I'm trying to face it.
words in red: Details in the Fabrics by Jason Mraz. I'm drowning in my tears every time I listen to the song.