I always thought home is the place that gives you peace when you are facing a lot of stress and problems, I always thought that home is where you can rest and sleep the best because it is where you belong. I always thought that family are those that will give you a hand when everything fails and when everyone turns their back on you, you can still count on your family. I always thought I knew that family are those that will stay by your side and gives you a pat on the shoulder even when you fail on something, and I thought that family are those that loves you most.
I never asked for anything, I have always trying to be that perfect daughter that everyone wanted, I always tried so hard, to be the best, only to get a pat on the shoulder, a hug, and a smile, telling me that I did a good job. But I can never be the best, at least not at their eyes; I can never get that smile, that pat on the shoulder that I always long for, even after how hard I tried.
I understand the situation of my family, so I never asked for luxurious life, I never asked for branded cloths, handbags, or shoes. I always used my own money for everything I wanted. At times I lied that I still have money while I only have 2 ringgit in my purse, hoping that I can try to minimise the family’s burden.
Always, instead of peace, when I get back home, I always gets screaming and shouting, that’s why I always go home late when everyone is asleep, to avoid that noise that I’ve always hated. But they never understand.
I always envy my friends, to have great parents that they can chat with, that they can hang out with. I never got such chance, I never know how it feels like, to go shopping with your mum, sharing the same cloths and shoes; I never know how it feels like, to have breakfast served nice and warm on the table, with your mum telling you how she baked that wonderful smelling muffin or how she learned a new recipe and is going to try to do it. I miss those times, when every weekend I and my parents will go to the movie together, and then we will buy food and walk around the street before the movie starts. Then, everything disappear, like thin air, those happy feeling is no more there, leaving the screaming and shouting to take its place.
My friends always tell me how great it is to have parents that let you go anywhere you want, and you have all the freedom you want. But I rather have my parents calling me everyday at 10 o’clock, asking me where am I than knowing everyday and someone will be up waiting for me; than when I get home, what I see is that four cold wall and that dim little yellow light.
I hate outside food, it’s unhealthy. But I hate going home realising that there’s no food for me more. At times I really felt like I’m just renting a room at their place and home is the place where I sleep and bath. No warm looking smile, no freshly baked muffins, no yummy home cook food, no hug, no pats on the shoulder, no dinner, no LOVE.
What is family? What is home? I lost the definition.
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