Torn apart / Bludgeoned

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T o r n  a p a r t .

It was back to Paya Lebar last night. My grandma wanted me to leave earlier but I wanted to watch Tangled with my little brother, so I could only leave at 9.30. Mom insisted I took a taxi but I didn't want to waste the money, and I liked to be on a bus or train anytime anyway.

I'm not sure why I got so sad as I was walking down Elias Road, down to the bus stop. The whole lane I walked was part of my childhood, how my mom and I walked that same path every Wednesday to hail a cab for my ballet lessons. I'm not even 19, yet my childhood feels like decades ago.

Must be the shit I've gotten myself into. I kept thinking, God I'm only 19. Why have I gone through so much? Why had I been abandoned by my parents, why had I gotten my innocence stolen by someone who was using me, why had I been fooled to love someone who left in the end? Are these just the pains of youth? Will this pain disappear once my age doesn't start with a 1 anymore?

Couldn't help but let the tears slip down my face, like I always do. Holding back the tears were causing me more harm than good, although it just made me a lot sadder to cry like that. Just like how you have to let go of someone that's hurting you, even if it pains you as well to be without them, right?

I tried not to cry on the MRT, though I had a fun time crying like shit from EW1 to EW2 [I saw my reflection in the window opposite, I remember how horrible I looked], but at Paya Lebar's bus stop and on bus 70M, I had to curl up and resume crying crying crying like shit.

So I decided to walk around the petrol station, because there is a little pathway that I can take to my block. Turned out, that pathway and the other was closed due to construction works, and I had to walk around the entire site in the end. Of course, halfway I started to sob for whatever reasons, and more and more fucking tears escaped out of me.

Terrible night. Terrible, terrible night. I felt so torn apart. When can I stay somewhere forever? But hey, I survived. And I'm still alive today. Therefore, I am a strong person.

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B l u d g e o n e d . 

I was running along an alleyway that turned here and there, I was getting chased by a horde of... people, though I'm not sure if they were alive or dead. Someone was in front of me, holding out to me and asking me to hurry, that we'll make it. That someone was my only motivation in getting me to run quicker.

There was something heavy tucked in the back of my jeans, though it was only later that I saw it was a parang.

Cut to the next scene, where the camera zooms out of the tree, and pans across the enclosed concrete path. There's a house far up in the north, a little parking lot to the right, little benches propped against a rectangular bed of flowers that stretched across, and this huge flight of staircase that goes higher than you can see down in the south, facing the west.

There's a little boy, about aged 10, with his parents. His parents leave him alone for a while and go to their house, the longhouse at the end of the enclosed area. This is where the game begins.

A group of children, also about aged 10, enter the area from the parking lot and begin running around. The little boy from before go running after the other children, presumably just wanting to join in and play with them.

Every other kid runs away from him screaming, even before he picks up the stray parang on the ground. They scream even before he chases after them and bludgeons them to death. Even when a kid isn't moving anymore, he continues hitting until they are in pieces and there is blood and body parts everywhere.

One left standing, the last fat kid sits on the big staircase crying. The main character stands before the flower bed, supposedly deciding whether he should kill this last kid. His decision is made when the fat kid runs toward him; he violently swings the parang across his head, and as his body drops to the floor, he repeatedly hit him again and again, til it was just a mess of meat and bones and blood on the ground.

The boy looks to his right, and the camera zooms out and shoots the house in the distance, where his parents can be seen in the kitchen through the window. He runs to the house, but the camera angle stays where he was standing.

The camera zooms back to the tree from before, where I realise that, leaning against it, is my very own purple backpack with my Squirtle keychain hanging from it.

I don't know which is scarier; the fact that I was the boy, and killing all those kids... Or the fact that I was there and that I might be the next victim.

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Maybe, in that beginning scene, I was that 10 year old boy, but as a teenager, thus the same parang being tucked into the back of my jeans. All the people who were chasing me were probably dead, or simpler said, zombies. My murdering them was what made them chase me; maybe it was also what made them come back alive. To seek revenge on me.

To relate that to reality, it's probably just telling me that whatever I do now will all come back to me in the end. If I want to think negatively, I'll have to consider the bad karma. But if I want to think positive, which I should, I'll have to think about how someday some guy will do for me more than everything I've done for that asshole who dumped me.

Hah, after I prayed for God not to give me any dreams and just a blank night, I get yet another dark dream full of bloody murder.

Guess I'll blog about my dreams more regularly now on, because you can't deny that they're so damn interesting.