10th grade As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me. She was my so called "best friend". I stared at her long, silky hair, and wished she was mine. But she didn't notice me like that, and I knew it. After class, she walked up to me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before and handed them to her. She said "thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why. 11th grade The phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears, mumbling on and on about how her love had broke her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn't want to be alone, so I did. As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of chips, she decided to go to sleep. She looked at me, said "thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why. Senior year The day before prom she walked to my locker. "My date is sick" she said; he's not going to go well, I didn't have a date, and in 7th grade, we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would go together just as "best friends". So we did. Prom night, after everything was over, I was standing at her front door step! I stared at her as she smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes. I want her to be mine, but she isn't think of me like that, and I know it. Then she said "I had the best time, thanks!" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why. Graduation Day A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it was graduation day. I watched as her perfect body floated like an angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn't notice me like that, and I knew it. Before everyone went home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and cried as I hugged her. Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said, "you're my best friend, thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why. A Few Years Later Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married now. I watched her say "I do" and drive off to her new life, married to another man. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn`t see me like that, and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and said "you came!". She said "thanks" and kissed me on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why. Funeral Years passed, I looked down at the coffin of a girl who used to be my "best friend". At the service, they read a diary entry she had wrote in her high school years. This is what it read: I stare at him wishing he was mine, but he doesn't notice me like that, and I know it. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love him but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why. I wish he would tell me he loved me! I wish I did too... I thought to my self, and I cried. i love u





While smiling for a picture to be taken with his friends, his mind was on other things. He was off in his own world again. He was like that a lot. He dreamed of sharp jagged edges, blurred visions, bygone memories and impossible realities. Being stuck in the mundane bored him to tears. He was so lost in his imagination, he barely noticed the light tap on his arm. He snapped back quickly but took his time to turn around. He hated to be caught unaware and hated even more for a person to know it. So he exaggerated his casualness and looked back. He almost wished he hadn’t turned back. That ole punched in the gut feeling came and went with all the clichés that, that implied. He looked at her and she looked at him. The awkward silence stretched and he opened his mouth to say something, anything. “Hello.” He cursed himself for his inarticulate tongue. “Hi,” she replied. And the silence stretched on and on after that. It was not that they didn’t have anything to say. It was just that it was too difficult to talk about anything more than surface chatter and superficial goings-on. A gulf of I’m sorry’s and it’s ok’s yawned between the both of them. And so they carried on with small talk. It was the only acceptable thing to do. Anything else was something they couldn’t and didn’t want to handle. Not now certainly. The ordeal, thankfully didn’t last long. His friends walked away and he quickly bid his goodbye and made his excuse and his exit."I love you too much to ever start liking you, so let’s just let the story kinda end.I love you too much to ever start liking you, so don’t expect me to be your friend."Bitter sweet, joyfully sorrowful, bleakly cheerful and memories just don’t end anyway.





I had never seen her so depressed. Tears were running down her face as I walked toward her. She seemed oblivious to my presence, probably thinking still, of the recent trauma she went through the past week.I sat down beside her on the edge of the dusty pavement. Acknowledging my presence immediately, she tentatively wiped off her tears and turned to look at me. Her eyes were red and puffy from the crying and her lips were quivering, as if unsure of what to say to me.She had contracted a rare sarcoma disease called Angiosarcoma. This disease is usually found in the internal organs and she, unfortunately, developed 22 tumors at the most important place of her body, her heart. Because of that, the doctor had told her that it was terminal, stating that she would not live anymore than a month. She never knew what was coming until it hit her. ¡°Feeling better now?¡± I asked gently. She nodded her head slightly. I knew she was lying as her hands were clasped round her knees so tightly that the blood in her veins could be seen clearly flowing underneath her nearly translucent skin. She was trying to control her emotions, her tears, held back desperately. My heart ached for her. My mind spun with dilemma, not knowing what I could do to ease her pain.¡°Why is this happening to me?¡± She asked suddenly and not waiting for an answer, she continued, ¡°I mean, I didn¡¯t do anything wrong, I did not commit any crime or create any trouble, why is god giving me such a big punishment?¡± On that note, she broke down all over again.I slowly and gently wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. She did not resist but instead, welcomed it with gratitude, hugging me back even more tightly, her sobs muffled against my shirt.¡°You still have me, don¡¯t forget, and I¡¯ll stand by you always, no matter what.¡± I assured her. She responded to my assurance by holding me even tighter, so tight that I was afraid she would hear the pounding of my heart, which by now, was beating very fast at her closeness.We were like that the whole night and I did not sleep while she did. The sun rose slowly against the horizon, welcoming a brand new day and to the two of us, a day of truth. I riveted my gaze from the beautiful sight onto Selena. She looked like an baby sleeping, seeming like she was oblivious of the sufferings around her, a face of peacefulness and contentment. Her light blond hair swayed gently in the cool breeze of the morning air. Her long eyelashes on her closed eyes produced a tiny silhouette against her skin, which gave an earthy glow, illuminated by the rising sun. Her mouth, cherry-shaped was slightly parted in slumber. I had never studied her so closely before and holding her slight figure in my arms now, I thought how much she had changed, from a young bubbly girl to a sensitive and beautiful young lady. I withdrew myself from her gently and lifted her up slowly, taking extra care not to wake her up. In what seemed like the longest journey, I carried her back into the hospital and finally reached her room. The forbidding figures of the hospital bed, tables and chairs stood out like dangerous thorns and it pained me to know that Selena was to stay in such a surrounding. I slowly lay her down on the cold mattress of the bed. She still looked like an baby, only this time, with hell as backdrop, the only pure essence in a place of sins.I walked over to the window and drew the curtains. Sunlight streamed into the room. Selena moved from her sleep and her eyelids fluttered and opened, revealing her ocean blue-green eyes, still in drowsiness. When she saw me, a slight smile revealing her dimples crept onto her pale face, warming my heart almost immediately. I smiled back and walked to the side of the bed. Our hands found each other and clasped together in unity. I looked up to the clock on the plain sand-brown wall. 6:26a.m. Thirty four minutes before her operation. I looked back at Selena. Her eyes were closed again but the smile on her face was still there.We held hands like that until a nurse came ten to fifteen minutes later and signaled me to leave the room so she could change Selena into her surgery gown. Selena opened her eyes slowly and gave me a smile of assurance. I reluctantly released my hands from her¡¯s and left the room, out into the now busy hallway. Nurses with clipboards in their hands, doctors with hands in their coat pockets and patients pushing their IV tubings on a roller as they walked, came and went. I watched the scene in a mindless daze until the wait for Selena came into an end when the nurse came out, pushing her on a mobile bed out of the room. I immediately rushed to her side and held her hands as we moved towards to operating room. Selena gave me another smile again, seeing my worried look.¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be fine.¡± She said softly to me. I nodded my head but in my mind, I knew I wouldn¡¯t stop worrying until everything was over. Knowing that I was her only nearest kin as she was an orphan, it pained me to think that she had to go through this alone.¡°Jared? I¡¯ve got something to tell you¡_¡± she said suddenly.¡°Yes?¡± I asked anxiously but not knowing why. We were getting nearer to the operating room. It was just a few steps away.¡°I love you.¡± She said softly and a tear escaped out of the corner of her eye. Before I could answer, she was pushed into the room and I was left alone outside. The operating light went on.The wait was agonizing and the last words she said to me kept spinning in my head. She loves me, she loves me! I love her too! I thought. Millions of other thoughts bombarded my mind as well, and it took me great effort to clear my mind to peace. I sat down on a bench against the wall outside the room and went through the longest moment of my life.Finally, four hours later. A doctor in surgical mask and gown came out. I immediately rushed up to him and asked anxiously, ¡°How is she?¡±The doctor avoided my eyes and took off his mask. ¡°Are you related to Selena Nolan?¡± He asked monotonously.¡°I¡¯m her¡_,¡± I stuttered unsurely and then Selena last words popped into my mind once more and suddenly, it all came to me. ¡°I¡¯m her boyfriend.¡± I said.The doctor finally looked at me and gave me a sympathetic look and I knew at that instance what the answer was. I let him go on anyway.¡°She didn¡¯t make it, we tried our best, we really did but we¡¯re sorry.¡± He said sadly and giving a light pat on my shoulder, he walked away.Tears started following uncontrollably from my eyes but I managed a smile. The only thought in my mind now was, Selena might have left this world in pain, mine and hers but she had emerged with love, an angel. I knew I would always love her and she would too. Our love would be undying, whether in this world or the other, we would always always be one.





The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as it careeneddown the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap, afraid itmay be kidnapped by the wind. She was not used to such speed, with trembling hands she pulled the seatbelt tighter but was careful not to touch thepatent leather seats with her callused fingers, her daughter had warned hernot to dirty it, 'Fingerprints show very clearly on white, Ma.'Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silver mobile phone using big words the old woman could barely understand.'Finance' 'Liquidation' 'Assets' 'Investments'... Her voice was crisp andimportant and had an unfamiliar lilt to it. Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was speaking in an American accent. The old lady clucked her tongue in disapproval. 'I absolutely cannot have this. We have to sell!' Her daughter exclaimed agitatedly as she stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto the steering wheel in irritation. 'I can't DEAL with this anymore!' she yelled as she clicked the phone shut and hurled it angrily toward the backseat.The mobile phone hit the old woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap. She calmly picked it up and handed it to her daughter.'Sorry, Ma,' she said, losing the American pretence and switching toMandarin. 'I have a big client in America. There have been a lot ofproblems.' The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big and important.Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wondering what she was thinking. Her mother's wrinkled countenance always carried the samecryptic look.The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerful digital tune, which broke the awkward silence.'Hello, Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.' Elaine. The old woman cringed. I didn't name her Elaine. She remembered her daughter telling her, how anEnglish name was very important for 'networking', Chinese ones being easily forgotten.'Oh no, I can't see you for lunch today. I have to take the ancient relic to the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.'Ancient Relic. The old woman understood perfectly it was referring to her. Her daughter always assumed that her mother's silence meant she did notcomprehend.'Yes, I know! My car seats will be reeking of joss sticks!'The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her hands gripping her plastic bag in defence.The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple's roof. The old woman got out of the back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall.Her daughter stepped out of the car in her business suit and stilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she made her brisk way to her mother's side.'Ma, I'll wait outside. I have an important phone call to make,' she said, not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense.The old lady hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick, she knelt down solemnly and whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods.Thank you God of the Sky, you have given my daughter luck all these years. Everything I prayed for, you have given her. She has everything a youngwoman in this world could possibly want. She has a big house with a swimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too clumsy to sew or cook.Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich and handsome angmoh man. Her company is now the top financial firm and even men listen to what she says.She lives the perfect life. You have given her everything except happiness.I ask that the gods be merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of success.What you see is not true, she is a filial daughter to me. She gives me a room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me onlybecause I affect her happiness. A young woman does not want to be hindered by her old mother. It is my fault.The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half-burnt joss stick into an urn of smouldering ashes.She bowed once more.The old woman had been praying for her daughter for thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the temple and prayed that it was a son. Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped out of her womb, bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but unmistakably, a girl.Her husband had kicked and punched her for producing a useless baby whocould not work or carry the family name.Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tied to her waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and haveeverything she ever wanted. Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would never have to depend on a man.She prayed every day that her daughter would be a great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. A woman with nengkan; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A woman who commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth to speak, precious pearls would fall out and men would listen.She will not be like me, the woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her, speaking a language she scarcely understood.She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl, to one who openlydefied her, calling her laotu; old-fashioned. She wanted her mother to be 'modern', a word so new there was no Chinese word for it.Now her daughter was too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that. The gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success that poured forth so richly had buried the girl's roots and now she stood, faceless, with no identity, bound to the soil of her ancestors by only a string of origami banknotes.Her daughter had forgotten her mother's values. Her wants were so ephemeral; that of a modern woman. Power, Wealth, access to the best fashion boutiques, and yet her daughter had not found true happiness.The old woman knew that you could find happiness with much less. When her daughter left the earth everything she had would count for nothing.People would look to her legacy and say that she was a great woman, but she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the ashes of burnt paper convertibles and mansions.The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopes andprayers for her daughter; now she had only one want: That her daughter be happy. She looked out of the temple gate. She saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger and worry. Being at the top is not good, the woman thought, there is only one way to gofrom there - down.The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out a packet of beehoon in front of the altar.Her daughter often mocked her for worshipping porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully and expect pieces of ceramic to fly to her aid?But her daughter had her own gods too, idols of wealth, success and power that she was enslaved to and worshipped every day of her life.Every day was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the life out of her and leave her, an empty soulless shell at the altar.The old lady watched her joss tick. The dull heat had left a teetering grey stem that was on the danger of collapsing.Modern woman nowadays, the old lady sighed in resignation, as she bowed to the east one final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadays want so much that they lose their souls and wonder why they cannot find it.Her joss stick disintegrated into a soft grey powder. She met her daughter outside the temple, the same look of worry andfrustration was etched on her daughter's face.An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil of her wants looking for the one thing that would sow the seeds of happiness.They climbed into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this time not as fast as she had done before.'Ma,' Bee Choo finally said. 'I don't know how to put this. Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move out of the big house.The property market is good now, and we managed to get a buyer willing to pay seven million for it. We decided we'd prefer a cosier penthouseapartment instead.We found a perfect one in Orchard Road. Once we move in to our apartment we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can have more space to ourselves...'The old woman nodded knowingly.Bee Choo swallowed hard. 'We'd get someone to come in to do the housework and we can eat out-but once the maid is gone, there won't be anyone to look after you. You will be awfully lonely at home and, besides that, theapartment is rather small. There won't be space. We thought about it for a long time, and we decided the best thing for you is if you moved to a Home.There's one near Hougang-it's a Christian home, a very nice one.'The old woman did not raise an eyebrow. 'I've been there, the matron iswilling to take you in. It's beautiful with gardens and lots of old peopleto keep you company! I hardly have time for you, you'd be happier there.''You'd be happier there, really.' Her daughter repeated as if to affirmherself.This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offerings to clingtightly to; she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it wouldprotect her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep into the leather seat, letting her shoulders sag, and her fingers trace the white seat.'Ma?' her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for her mother. 'Is everything okay?'What had to be done, had to be done. 'Yes,' she said firmly, louder than she intended, 'if it will make you happy,' she added more quietly.'It's for you, Ma! You'll be happier there. You can move there tomorrow, I already got the maid to pack your things.' Elaine said triumphantly,mentally ticking yet another item off her agenda.'I knew everything would be fine.'Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother would make her happier. She had thought about it. It seemed the onlyhindrance in her pursuit of happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern woman ever wanted; Money, Status, Career, Love,Power and now,Freedom, without her mother and her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down...Yes, she was free. Her phone buzzed urgently, she picked it up and read the message, still beaming from ear to ear. 'Stocks 10% increase!'Yes, things were definitely beginning to look up for her...And while searching for the meaning of life in the luminance of her hand phone screen, the old woman in the backseat became invisible, and she did not see the tears.





this is so many weeks since i last blogged.haiz.. gotta so many things to blog dat i din know where to start..hmm i've lost A and B..i dunno why..i cried wen i was bathing jux now..received an sms.. "im busy, talk to you later" wad's dat meant to b? ok..i know i sud b hateful of C..but its not her fault.. im e one to b blamed for the happening of this result.. i've oni myself to blame..i take some time to spend wif A but was not appreciated..n i know im not e oni one feeling this way.. others told me bout this too..but im already trying my best..den i neglect B..n everything is not goin well now..so its best to turn myself to studies to stop myself from thinking..isnt it pathetic????=( cheer up gal.. at leasti've stil got lai lai, kh n many others.. yean ling william n all.. dun think dat all of u play a small role.. if ur r not here.. life wouldn turn out this way.. all of u are significant!!! =)





From the very beginning, girl's family objected strongly on her dating this guy, saying that it has got to do with family background, & that thegirl will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be withhim.Due to family's pressure, the couple quarrelled very often. Though the girl loved the guy deeply, she always asked him: "How deep is your love for me?" As the guy is not good with his words, this often caused the girl to be very upset. With that & the family's pressure, the gal often vent her anger on him. As for him,.. he only endured it in silence.After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated & decided to further his studies overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the gal: "I'm not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family, I'll trymy best to talk them round. Will you marry me?"The girl agreed, & with the guy's determination, the family finally gave in & agreed to let them get married. So before he left, they got engaged. The gal went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails & phone calls. Though it was hard, but both never thought of giving up.One day, while the gal was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. when she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realized that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sigh. she had lost her voice....The doctors says that the impact on her brain has caused her to loseher voice. Listening to her parents' comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down. During the stay in hospital, besides silentlycrying,..it's still just silent crying that accompanied her. Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart everytime it rang. She does not wish to let the guy know. & not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent millions & millions of reply, countless of phonecalls,.. all the gal could do, besides crying, is still crying.... The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything & be happy. With a new environment, the gal learn sign language & started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her friend came & told her that he's back. She asked her friend not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn't anymore news of him.A year has passed & her friend came with an envelope, containing a invitation card for the guy's wedding. the gal was shattered. When she open the letter, she saw her name in it instead. When she was about to ask her friend what's going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her.He used sign language to tell her "I've spent a year to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I've not forgotten our promise. Let me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You." With that, he slipped the ring back into her finger. The gal finally smiled.





John woke up early in the morning, with a bad hangover.He forced his eyes to open...found a glass of water and painkillers on the table besides his bedand his work clothes tidily-ironed and folded on the other side of the bed.He took the painkillers and fond a note underneath:Honey,I'm going for shopping. I've made you breakfast.Have it when it's still hot.Love you~~He went to the dining table and found his fav brekky plus a morning paper.He asked his sonSon,tell me what happened last night?The son answeredErrr...You came home at 3 walking zig-zag and shouting to us so loudbreaking some furniturethen funnily banging your head to the wallthats how you got the black eye...He didnt understandBut, why now the house is so clean, where is those breaking furniture?and your mom isnt angry at all and also making me a great brekky? The son smiling at him, repliedRight...See, mom was pissed off to see you come home deadly drunk last night.She dragged you to the room and tried to change your dirty clothes.When she took off your pants,you yelled at herHey, MissyYou'd better stay away from me!!!I'm married! ...Conclusion:Drunk - $2,000 Broken furniture - $15,000 Breakfast - $250 Say the right (or sweet) thing - PRICELESS





Cruel misunderstandings one after another disrupted the blissful footsteps to our family. Our original intend of having Mother enjoy some quiet and peaceful moments in her remaining years with us went terribly wrong as destiny's secret is finally revealed at a price, every thing became too late.Just two years after our marriage, hubby brought up the idea of asking Mother to move from the rural hometown and spend her remaining years with us. Hubby's father passed away while he was still very young. Mother endured much hardship and struggled all on her own to provide for him, see him through to a university degree. You could say that she suffered a great deal and did everything you could expect of a woman to bring hubby to where he is today.I immediately agreed and started packing the spare room, which has a balcony facing the South to let her enjoy the sunshine and plant some greenery. Hubby stood in the bright room, and suddenly just picked me up and started spinning round and round. As I begged him to put me down, he said: "Lets go fetch mother." Hubby is tall and big sized and I love to rest on his chest and enjoy the feeling that he could pick me up at any moment put the tiny me into his pockets. Whenever we have an argument and both refuses to back down, he would pick me up and spin me over his head continuously until I surrender and beg for mercy. I became addicted to this kind of panic-joy feeling.Mother brought along her country-side habits and lifestyle with her. For example; I am so used to buying flowers to decorate the living room, she could not stand it and would comment: "I do not know how you young people spend your money, why do you buy flowers for? You also can't eat the flowers!" I smiled and said: "Mum, with flowers in the house, our mood will also become better." Mother continues to grumble away, and hubby smiled: "Mum, this is a city-people's habit; slowly you will get use to it."Mother stopped saying anything. But every time thereafter, whenever I came home with flowers, she would ask me how much it costs. I told her and she would shake her head and express displeasure. Sometimes, when I come home with lots of shopping bags, she would ask each and every item how much they cost, I would tell her honestly and she would get even more upset about it. Hubby playfully pinched my nose and said: "You little fool, just don't tell her the full price of everything would solve it." There begins the friction to our otherwise happy lifestyle.Mother hates it most when hubby wakes up early to prepare the breakfast. In your view, how could the man of the house cook for the wife? At the breakfast table, mother facial expression is always like the dark clouds before a thunderstorm and I would pretend not to notice. She would use her chopsticks and make a lot of noise with it as her silent protest. As I am a dance teacher in the Children's Palace and is exhausted from a long day of dancing around, I do not wish to give up the luxury of that additional few minutes in the comfort of my bed and hence I turned a deaf ear to all the protest mother makes.From time to time, mother would help out with some housework, but soon her help created additional work for me. For example: she would keep all kinds of plastic bags accumulating them so that she sell them later on, and th! at resulted in our house being filled with all the trash bags; she would scrimp on dish washing detergent when helping to wash the dishes and so as not to hurt her feelings, I would quietly wash they again. One day, late at night, mother saw me quietly washing the dishes, and "Bam" she slams her bedroom door and cried very loudly in her room. Hubby was placed in a difficult position, and after that, he did not speak to me for that entire night. I pretended to be a spoilt child, tried acting cute, but he totally ignored me. I got mad and asked him: "What did I do wrong?" Hubby stared at me and said: "Can't you just give in to her once? we couldn't possibly die eating from a bowl however unclean it is, right?"After that incident, for a long period of time, mother did not speak to me and you can feel that there is a very awkward feeling hanging in the house. During that period of cold war, hubby was caught in dilemma as to who to please.In order to stop her son from having to prepare breakfast, mother took on the "all important" task of preparing breakfast without any prompting. At the breakfast table, mother would look at hubby happily eating his breakfast and cast that reprimanding stare at me for having failed to perform my duty as a wife. To avoid the embarrassing breakfast situation, I resorted to buying my own breakfast on my way to work.That night, while in bed, hubby was a little upset and asked me: "LD, is it because you think that mum's cooking is not clean that's why you chose not to eat at home?" He then turned his back on me and left me alone in tears as feeling of unfairness overwhelmed me. After some time, hubby sighed: "LD, just for me, can you have breakfast at home?" I am left with no choice but to return to the breakfast table.The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by mother and I felt a sudden churn in my stomach and everything inside seem to be rushing up my throat. I trie! d to suppress the urge to throw up but I couldn't. I threw down the bowl and rushed into the washroom and vomited everything out. Just as I was catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumbling very loudly in her dialect, hubby was standing at the washroom doorway staring at me with fire burning in his eyes. I opened my mouth but no words came out of it, I really didn't mean it.We had our very first big fight that day; mother took a look at us, then stood up and slowly made her way out of the house. Hubby gave me a final stare in the eye and followed mother down the stairs.For three days, hubby did not return home, not even a phone call. I was so furious, since mother arrived; I had been trying my best and putting up with her, what else do you want me to do? For no reason, I keep having the feeling to throw up and I simply have not appetite for food, coupled with all the events happening at home, I was at the low point in my life. Finally, a colleague said: "LD, you look terrible, you should go and see a doctor."The doctor confirmed that I am pregnant. Now it became clear to me why I threw up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floated through that otherwise happy news. Why didn't hubby, and mother who had been through this before, thought of the possibility of this being the reason that day? At the hospital entrance, I saw my hubby standing there. It had only been three days, but he looked haggard. I had wanted to turn and leave, but one look at him and my heart soften, I couldn't resist and called out to him. He followed my voice and finally found me but he pretended that he doesn't know me; he has that disgusted look in his eyes that cut right through my heart.I told myself not to look at him anymore, and hail a cab. At that moment, I have such a strong urge inside me to shout to my hubby: "Darling, I am having your baby!" and have him lift me up and spin me round in circles of joy. Wh! at I wanted didn't happen and as I sat in the cab, my tears started rolling down. Why? Why our love couldn't even withstand the test of one fight? Back home, I lay on the bed thinking about my hubby, and the disgusted look in his eyes. I cried and wet the corner of the blanket.That night, sound of the drawers opening woke me up. I switched on the lights and I saw hubby with tears rolling down his face. He was removing the money. I stared at him in silence; he ignored me, took the bank deposit book and some money and left the house. Maybe he really intends to leave me for good. What a rational man, so clear cut in love and money matters. I gave a few dried laugh and tears starting streaming down again.The next day, I did not go to work. I wanted to clear this out and have a good talk with hubby. I reached his office and his secretary gave me a weird look and said: "Mr Tan's mother had a traffic accident and is now in the hospital." I stood there in sho! ck. I rushed to the hospital and by the time I found hubby, mother had already passed away. Hubby did not look at me, his face was expressionless.I looked at mother's pale white and thin face and I couldn't control the tears in my eyes. My god, how could this happen? Throughout the furneral, hubby did say a single word to me, with only the occasional disgusted stare at me. I only managed to find out brief facts about the accident from other people. That day, after mother left the house, she walked in dazed toward the bus stop, apparently intending to go back to her old house back in the country-side. As hubby ran after her, she tried to walk faster and as she tried to cross the street, a public bus came and hit her...I finally understood how much hubby must hate me, if I had not thrown up that morning, if we had not quarreled, if...In his heart, I am indirectly the killer of his mother.********Part 2...Hubby moved into mother's room and came home every night with a strong liquor smell on him. And me, I am buried under the guilt and self pity and could hardly breathe. I wanted to explain to him, tell him that we are going to have our baby soon, but each time, I saw the dead look in his eyes, all the words I have at the brink of my mouth just fell back in. I had rather he hit me real hard or give me a big and thorough scolding though none of these events happening had been my fault at all.Many days of suffocating silence went by and as the days went by, hubby came home later and later. The deadlock between us continues, we were living together like strangers who don't know each other. I am like the dead knot in his heart.One day, I passed by a western restaurant, looking into the glass window, I saw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he very lightly brushed her hair for her, I understood what it meant. After recovering from that moment of shock, I ent! ered the restaurant, stood in front of my hubby and stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes. I have nothing to say to him, and there is no need to say anything.The girl looked at me, looks at hubby, stands up and wanted to go, hubby stretched out his hand and stopped her. He stared back at me, challenging me. I can only hear my slow heart beat, beating, one by one as if at the brink of death. I eventually backed down, if I had stood that any longer, I will collapse together with the baby inside me.That night, he did not come home, he had chosen to use that as a way to indicate to me: Following mother's death, so did our love for each other. He did not come home anymore after that. Sometimes, when I returned home from work, I can tell that the cupboard had been touched - he had returned to take some of his stuff.I no longer wish to call him; the initial desire to explain everything to him vanished.I lived alone; I go for my me! dical checkups alone, my heart breaks again and again every time I see a guy carefully helping his wife through the physical examination. My office colleagues hinted to me to consider aborting the baby, I told them No, I will not. I insisted on having to this baby, perhaps it is my way of repaying mother for causing her death.One day, I came home and I saw hubby sitting in the living room. The whole house was filled with cigarette smoke. On the coffee table, there was this piece of paper. I know what it is all about without even looking at it.In the two months plus of living alone, I have gradually learned to find peace within myself. I looked at him, removed my hat and said: "You wait a while, I will sign." He looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes, just like mine. As I hang up my coat, I keep repeating to myself "You cannot cry, you cannot cry..." my eyes hurt terribly, but I refused to let tears come out from there.After I hung up my! coat, hubby's eyes stared fixed at my bulging tummy. I smiled, walked over to the coffee table and pull e paper towards me. Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and pushed the paper to him."LD, you are pregnant?"Since mother's accident, this is the first time he spoke to me. I could not control my tears any further and they fell like raindrops. I said: "Yes, but its ok, you can leave now." He did not go, in the dark, we sat, facing each other.Hubby slowly moved over me, his tears wet the blanket. In my heart, everything seem so far away, so far that even if I sprint, I could never reach them.I cannot remember how many times he repeated "sorry" to me, I had originally thought that I would forgive him, but now I can't. In the western restaurant, in front of that girl, that cold cold look in his eyes, I will never forget, ever. We have drawn such deep deep scares in each other's heart. For me, its uninte! ntional; for him, totally intentional.I had been waiting for this moment of reconciliation, but I realized now, what had gone past is gone forever and could not repeated! Other than the thought of the baby inside me that would bring some warmth to my heart, I am totally cold towards him, I no longer eat anything he buys for me, I don't take any presents from him and I stopped talking to him. From the moment I signed on that piece of paper, marriage and love had vanished from my heart.Sometimes, hubby will try to come into the bedroom, but when he walks in, I will walk out to the living room. He had no choice but to sleep in mother's room. At night, from his room, I can hear light sounds of groaning, I kept quiet. This used to be his trick; last time, whenever I ignore him, he would fake illness and I will surrender and find out what is wrong with him, he would then grab me and laugh. He have forgotten that last time, I cared for him and am concerned becau! se there is love, but now, what is there between us?Hubby's groaning came on and off continuing all the way till baby was born. Almost everyday, he would buy something for the baby, infant products, children products and books that kids like to read. Bags and bags of it stacked inside his room till it is full. I know he is trying to use this to reach out to me, but I am no longer moved by his actions. He has no choice but to lock himself in his room and I can hear his typing away on his computer keyboard, maybe he is now addicted to web surfing, but none of that matters to me anymore.It was sometime towards the end of spring in the following year, one late night, I screamed because of a sudden stomach pain, hubby came rushing into the room, its like he did not change and sleep, and had been waiting for this moment. He carried me and ran down the stairs, stopped a car, holding my hand very tightly and kept wiping the sweat off my brown, throughout the jour! ney to the hospital. Once we reached the hospital, he carried me and hurried into the delivery suite. Lying on the back of his skinny but warmth body, a thought crossed my mind: In my lifetime, who else would love me as much as he did?He held the delivery suite door opened and watch me go in, his warm eyes caused me to managed a smile at him despite my contraction pain.Coming out of the delivery room, hubby looked at me and our son, his eyes tear with joy and he kept smiling. I reached out and touched his hand.Hubby looked at me, smiling and then he slowly collapsed onto the floor. I cried out for him in pain... He smiled, but without opening that tired eyes of his... I had thought that I would never shed any tear for him, but the truth is, I have never felt a deeper pain cutting through my body at that moment.Doctor said that by the time hubby discovered he had liver cancer, it was already in terminal stage and it was a mira! cle that he managed to last this long. I asked the doctor when did he first discover he had cancer? Doctor said about 5 months ago and consoled me saying: "Prepare for his funeral." I disregarded the nurse's objection and rushed home, I went into his room and checked his computer, and a suffocating pain hits me.Hubby's cancer was discovered 5 months ago, his groaning was real, and I had thought that... the computer showed over 200 thousand words he wrote for our son: "Son, just for you, I have persisted, to be able to take a look at you before I fall, is my biggest wish now... I know that in your life, you will have many happiness and maybe some setbacks, if only I can accompany you throughout that journey, how nice would it be. But daddy now no long has that chance. Daddy has written inside here all the possible difficulties and problems you may encounter during your lifetime, when you meet with these problems, you can refer to daddy's suggestion... Son, after writing! these 200 thousand words, I feel as if I have accompanied you through your life journey. To be honest, daddy is very happy. Do love your mother, she has suffered, she is the one who loves you most and also the one who loves me most..."From play school to primary school, to secondary, university, to work and even in dealing with questions of love, everything big and small was written there.Hubby has also written a letter for me:"My dear, to marry you is my biggest happiness, forgive me for the pain I have caused you, forgive me for not telling you my illness, because I want to see you be in a joyful mood waiting for the arrival of our baby... My dear, if you cried, it means that you have forgiven me and I would smile, thank you for loving me... These presents, I'm afraid I cannot give them to our son personally, could you help me to give some of them to him every year, the dates on what to give when are all written on the packaging..."Going back to the hospital, hubby is still in coma. I brought our son over and place him beside him. I said: "Open your eyes and smile, I want our son to remember being in the warmth of your arms..."He struggled to open his eyes and managed a weak smile. Our son still in his arms was happily waving his tiny hands in the air. I press the button on the camera and the sound of the shutter rang thought the air as tears slowly rolled down my face...The end...

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