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I was expecting it all to be fun, but I was wrong. Day 1 of tears, I headed up the stairs, reaching to my grandparents' house which I reluctantly followed as I was forced to go there by my parents. [it happened on Saturday]
The night was rainy and thunder began stricking, but I did not care. Something happened to me on Friday night, and I was told deep down inside my heart, that it will be left unknown, and unacknowledged. [thus, im not telling any of you out there]
I received amazing reviews about this movie , SECRET . I always thought that Jay Chou's products sucks. But I was wrong. Despite the deafening sound of the thunder piercing the atmosphere, I put in the CD and of course, played it.
I was crying. Crying so dreadfully that I even thought I was at world's end. Memories of the togetherness between him and I rushed into my head. It was the first time I'd cried so badly in my 13-year-old life. My siblings stared blankly at me as every tear streamed down my eyes. The pain stinging in both my eyes and heart were painful. Very painful.
My uncle, who was also watching told me that there was nothing to cry about. "It's just another stupid movie," he told me. I wanted to tell him that it wasn't the movie that made me cry, but I just simply couldn't.
I didn't understand that movie, at first. But the plot was more or less the same like my life. The powerful vibe of the movie had resulted me crying, which I never did the same in years. That female character died for her love, and it was worth it. Its always the stupid male ones who'll carelessly make one dumb mistake which will actually create a chaos. [ okay, i exaggerated a lil]
Hours after the movie ended, I was still crying, quietly in my bed. Thinking of the sacrifices, I felt it was all worthless. I hate to say it, but , I can't let all my efforts drain down the Lake of Useless-ness.
Day 2 of tears, It was today. A terrible loss occured. I lost one of my friends. He died 3 hours after he was sent into the emergency ward. It was all messy and tearful. He was my friend, he was lanky, he was handsome but he was precocious.
He was not approved by any authority to drive a motorbike, but he did. He set the wrong foot in this mess. He sped and died in a road accident. He was young, only 2 years older than I am. We weren't close, but we met each other incidentally. He was my dad's "anak buah". He was more or less my brother.
But his death wasn't entirely blamed on him, the victim himself. Some blamed his dad for not taking care of him. Some blamed the person who lent him the motorbike. I didn't blame anyone. Instead, I blamed myself for not telling him to take care. It was a blessing. And I knew blessings were powerful.
I don't know how, but I just knew that something was wrong. Ever since the day I shed my first tear in this week, I knew something was wrong. First the ferry that was on fire and now this. Something was awaiting for me. Somehow, I know it was going to be me, the next one. Marked to be I-don't-know-what.
Rest in peace. Although he was a Malay, I always treated him as an equal.
