What have I done? It was one of the most heart-breaking days in my short life. After so many years away from home, I finally got the long-lost home welcoming fight to help me familiarize with my own family again. When I opened up my diary this time, I, experiencing a déjà vu, understood the reason why I had put my mode on top of every single page.Love me like this; hate me like this.
As I turned my loosely connected uncles and aunties down, I also turned down my granny, and as I defended myself, I also humiliated my dad—which is why I got scolded by granny. I finally ripped off my pretending smiling face and intended politeness, revealing my true, ugly, ferocious, evil self in front of them. My dignity, pride, if there is any in me, smugness, as well as self-centeredness, all buried under my knees the moment they collapsed on the ground with floating dusts.
The sunlight, sarcastically, was as blindingly bright as the one in my darkest memory that I seal in the corner of my brain...
Threatening me with death is so not working but only making me nauseous, because begging people for sympathy shows nothing but one’s own weakness. Beside, this is pertaining to some moral values. Sentiments concerning death and past people are scary but not dramatically moving, because they are supposed to be remembered and mentioned with family honor, love and nostalgia, not guilt or punishment. Besides, when the name is mentioned, it should be mentioned with a smile but not tons of tears from different sockets.
Where has the perfect little girl disappeared to? Tracking back my own diary, I regret to say that she was never there. Deep underneath my cover, I am, and have always been an ungrateful devil that causes all kinds of problems in this shattered family. But sadly for me, having hurting so many people including myself, I still can’t see my mistake.
