Melonsoylia

05/04/21

One of the darkest days in the universe of my life. Can of worms opened when my most trusted person casually said yes I think you could have handled it better.

This story started from childhood like all of mine seem to, my older brother eating the snacks I'd bought on the supermarket trips with my mother. Extended to my youth, 17 when nothing in my life was going right at all. I'd bought a six-pack of Vitasoy only to find out he had drank a few boxes when I'd only got to one.

Now imagine using your own school allowance on this, only to be stolen from your older brother, who at 21 could definitely afford his own? Twitter had to bear the brunt of my rantings, because I'd already figured out by then that talking to my parents about him was useless.

I'd also like to add that on top of stealing my consumables, my money was also being stolen. This I did talk about with my mum, and she would defend against any accusations of my older brother. It went two ways, either she was really adamant on protecting him, or it was her. I never knew which was worse.

Fast forward to age 25, 2020. More dark days in the form of circuit breaker. A niece and nephew screaming in the living room, scooters banging against your bedroom door. Every single day. Making your migraines worse and what remained of your mental health depleting. Why do I have to live like this? 

The year of age 26, 2021, they finally moved out. You would think I didn't have to deal with things like that anymore. Living with parents and a younger brother who wouldn't drink the things I did. I could finally feel like my things were safe when I bought them. But of course when have I ever been right?

This was also the period where both my parents weren't talking to me because of wedding-planning issues. Where my father was slamming things on counters whenever I walked into the room. Leaving the dining table when I sat at it. Your younger brother, the one friend of the house, at camp most days of the week and nobody to come home to. Something you thought only teenagers went through, not a working adult two months from marriage.

My older brother tended to pop by the house on his Grab errands. Maybe I should have thought of that, like a proper victim would. On one of those times, his kids were there too. More than one Vitasoy gone, plastic wrinkling against the fridge door. The ONE good thing I had in that house. Everything had accumulated, but of course it was my fault for letting it. 

I really did cry so hard in the bathroom after that. You can imagine how hard it is to be as *nice* as possible when you can't breathe but you really want to fix the gaping hole in your chest that is a few boxed drinks. I'd post screenshots if I didn't have this thing where I don't put pictures in my posts.

Me to my sister-in-law, in the midst of tears: Did naqib take my vitasoy?

Sis: Alamak that's yours!! I took it sorry2!! I thought papa bought it! 

Me: Please pay me back

Sis: Okay can how muchh?

Me: Ask him to buy 1 packet and bring it here next time

Sis: Okay anything i'll update you when it's there

Btw you want the same flavour or choc

Me: The melon

I'd decided to leave the house to the biggest library in the area, found an armchair by the window on the highest floor. A few hours went by and I was already calmer, lost in the blurry words of books I'd just hoarded.

My older brother: Eh cibai kau kurang ajar message kak nabilah macam tu. Just becos of air melon? Fuck it i dont want to be ur wedding witness!! U cN fuck off!

And of course I went back to crying in front of those dank shelves. A very loyal fiance who came down looking for me, but the childhood brokenness wasn't his to fix.

Some bit of faith in my mother made me text her, but it only disappointed me and made things worse. Finally I sent her screenshots, both conversations with brother and sister-in-law, honestly telling her that "if your son ever kill me I know you will just say it's my fault for making him angry" and "that's how much you love him and how much you hate me". Things I now feel so heartbroken to read again. 

It didn't end there, I wish it did. But the next time my then-fiance visited to talk about the wedding, my parents brought it up. And they actually told him off for my behaviour. 

"It's just a small thing", they said. A small thing that has amounted from childhood and youth and the optimism from difficult days. "He wouldn't react like that if she didn't text first", they said. "Her brother has never said he hates her", they said. Ignoring the fact he had said those words with the kicks and punches he blew throughout my life. 

I constantly laugh about all my pains but this is the one incident I could never joke about. Maybe not yet. Melon soy tastes so bitter to me even though I could now flood my own fridge with boxes and they would remain untouched. 

This one ties with another story, if I could bring myself to revisit and write it. But a witness is a clue. Maybe someday, when her time comes. I was once so close to carving her name on my tombstone, it would be nothing to write her deeds.