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Thursday, June 22, 2006

:: Broken :: [VS SA1, Paper 1]

The bell rang, calling the day to another abrupt end. Along with many others, I packed my bag quickly while the teacher issued last reminders about the upcoming tests over the constant chitter and chatter of the students. 'Like anyone would listen,' I thought. 'At least not me.' I swung my Von Dutch bag over my shoulder and left the room, shirt untucked and unkempt.

I paced the distance to the school gates. Five hundred and seventy eight. That was the shortest route I found. A shorter and quicker way to freedom. But I know, deep inside, that the pacing was pointless - it was far from accurate. I did it anyway. It killed time.

'Where to?' I thought out loud. I did not want to go home. Did I even have one? Well I remember having a small little concrete cage; An empty shell. If I wanted to be optimistic, an empty house was ideal, and lucky to have. For when it was occupied, I would be caught between a crossfire of vulgarities and expletives. I would rather go home to an empty house.

My sleek silver nokia buzzed to a syncopated rhythm. It was my 'brothers'. They were the ones who bought me the phone.

'Eh bro! Come PP. We got good stuff for you.'

'K. gimmie 5' I replied the SMS and boarded the bus service 197, which had just arrived. In l than give minutes, the buss pulled over into the bus bay at the bus stop and almost everone, including myself, streamed out into the Parkway district. There were my 'brothers', waiting for me.

I met the three of them about a month ago at the LAN shop, Zion, while playing DOTA(Defence Of The Ancients), a popular online game. They accepted me in to their trio after i displayed my skills at the game. All of them were impressed and we 'hung out' together ever since.

'Eh brother, come. We bring you go enjoy!' the gang leader told me, and the four of us went to Zion for a few games. They pulled me to a corner of the shop and offered me a tube of clear liquid. I drank it without thinking. And as the liquid entered my body, there was a sudden release of adrenalin that surged through my body. Gosh, it felt good! My 'brothers' smiled at me and commented in hokkien, 'He seems to like it alot.'

Within the next few hours, I took three more doeses. I was extremely high, and barely controllable. The next few minutes however, was a blur, and too fast for my drugged mind to register.

My brothers vanished. Three policemen took their places. The next thing i know, i was at the police station. Still, i was too high to feel worried or scared; too drugged to realise that my life was about to fall apart; too weak to shake myself out of exstacy's grip.

My mother cried. My father cared not. And my sister was probably having sex with one of her boyfriends. That was the family i had. I was detained, waiting to be sentenced. I knew i was going to the Boys Home but somewhere inside me, i was hoping my brothers would save me. Fat Chance. That was to dream, and i knew that well.

The stroke of the hammer etched a police record into my life. That simple action sent me away to hell on earth; that simple stroke engraved a mark into my mind; and that simple thud hammered a blow into my heart. Lament. How i wished that it would help. Regret. It would not bring me anywhere better. There was nothing i could do but wait till the term was over.

So here i lie, dead and lifeless. Scarred. Broken.

Family, broken.
Heart, broken.
Trust, broken.
Friendship, broken.
Life, broken; shattered.

All, never to be mended or healed.

They say time heals all wounds. They're wrong.

written by MitZukin Mrvica