Family Business

[Some say that the pen is mightier than the sword. This is definitely a more peaceful way of revenge. :)]

He hated it when they yell at each other. The things they say to each other were so precisely crafted, they hurt like a slow knife, carving deep into the heart. Of course they would always call a truce few days later, but he often wonders how they can look each other in the eyes and accepts each other’s overused “I didn't mean it”. He knows that they meant it in some ways. He is certain that they know that they meant it too. Moreover the truces they've ever called were just rest spites during which they rearm themselves with even more cruel statements and the setting of moral traps for each other.

The fights are not easy for him to endure. When hostility commences, sooner or later, he would be dragged into it, assuming the position of a judge. He dreads the job, dreads to have to pick a side that is in the right. How can he? He loves his parents way too much to do anything to harm either one. Not to mention the fact that they both have very valid arguments that are, in their own ways, right.

He knew, of course, that if he is just brave enough to talk to his parents about it. Just by telling them how much their fighting upsets him, the ordeals would stop. He knew, also, that they both love him as much as he loves them. He knew that they would do whatever for him. Whatever that pleases him. He knew if nothing else, he can stop the arguments before they are passed the point of no return. Oh he knew, he is just not brave enough to take action, and he hates himself very much for it.

One night his worst nightmare came true. It was the war to end all wars. The most vicious one he has experienced by far from his parents. The volume of their voices stunned him. Not sure what to do, if anything at all, he locked himself in his room and crouched in a corner, and started shaking.

His mind was grasped by a sudden urge to run downstairs to stop them from going any further. It took a while, but he ultimately had picked himself up and dragged his body to the door. He cracked the door open, but slammed it shut almost as quickly as he had it opened. The sound of shattering glassware had hit him like a sledgehammer. He was knocked right back to the same corner where he was too slow to act.

“Coward!” he called himself as he plugs a pair of ear buds in. Feeling lost and not giving a fuck, he irrationally slides the volume bar all the way up.

His ears were pulsating with pain, but he could've cared less. A question drifted into his consciousness, he wonders if they are really oblivious to the fact that whatever they are doing hurts him. But he was too tired to think any longer. He soon fell asleep.

He woke up early next morning with a stream of blood running out of his ears. He laid there for awhile until he noticed the familiar sound of his mother making breakfast was missing. He repeated the phrase “hopefully it’s just my ears” as he dresses to check on his parents.

It was a cold February morning, quite beautiful too. A snowstorm came through just the night before, leaving the neighborhood a smooth white complexion. Outside the children awoke early building snowmen and making snow angels. Everything looked so serene and harmless, but if one was to look closer, he or she would've noticed the two freshly made tire tracks in place of the usually late waking Haldemans' van and a hint of red was splattered on the windows of the master bedroom. And perhaps one would've also noticed the emptiness of the house from which a faint but definitely audible scream came.

But the children were busy having fun and the adults even busier preparing for the long day ahead of them.

Good Bye 2012

Since I've not been very festive about the last few holidays, I might as well hitch a ride on the bandwagon into 2013 while the chance is still present.

***

2012. Pretty routine. Other than the load of tests I had to take in the middle of the year and the internship thing. It would also be my first time of experiencing betrayal.

For the internship, all of us have to do a tri-fold presentation. It wasn't the kind that you have to present in front of everyone, not that we'll have the time for that anyway. All the tri-folds were put out on the hallways of our school for the teacher parent conferences and open house, and was taken down right after. They really were just obstructions after they served their purposes, and they don't benefit us in any shape or form.

We were given three weeks to finish the project. It was difficult because I'm not very interested in making artsy shit like fancy poster boards that shoots fireworks. Art I like, but poster boards, that is so 3rd grade. Not to mention the only things I have to make art with at home were a pair of scissor, a bottle of glue and a pack of color pencils my cousin gave me seven years ago. I wasn't exactly in the shape of making anything artsy and a betrayal from my intern partner didn't do anything to help either.

That fucker agreed to work on this poster board with me when I asked him during the internship. His job was to take all the pictures for the poster board and we'll split the work equally among us. But on the day we were given the rubric he flatly denied to anything of the sort and stated that he will refuse to work with me because he paid for the pictures he took to be printed on nice photo paper. Prick.

***

Now that 2012 is behind us, shall all the memories connected to it be gone with it. Lessons learned will be forgotten, emotions felt will be suppressed, shits happened will be disregarded. Older, fatter, more mature. I don't expect 2013 to be any different from 2012. Stupid worthless projects will still be given. Another Chlamydia outbreak at my school. And more the DOs and DON'Ts from our counselors.

(I'm still curious as to how exactly did the proper authorities found out about the outbreak.)

2013 will be the same, or as my friend had eloquently put it, "Same shit different year".

To stay festive: Happy new year to you all! Have a great 2013!