Memento (1/1)

I jerk the sack out to see what is beneath it. I didn’t think much … my heart momentarily stopped. Memories suddenly rush back. I was two and I was playing in the garage when I saw this red motor bike, it is all rusty. I never see the old man using it so I assume that it was broken then. For some bizarre reason I feel like I wanted it so badly that I am willing to speak to the old man, which I never do. My feet moved on its own to where the old man was, with my heart still pumping with excitement. I found the old man reading a newspaper in the kitchen, I took a deep breath and walk towards him. He took a glimpse of me then continued reading “Can I have the motorbike in the garage?” I whispered. Suddenly, as the words flew out of my mouth so was the excitement. After being intoxicated with this ‘wanting’ feeling, I am left with nothing but fear. The old man might just find another reason to detest my existence. I was staring at the floor with my knees trembling. I was going to run away but my little feet would not move. I hear the old man sigh deeply; I was strengthening my heart to be reprimanded. But then before the old man can utter a word grandma came to the rescue “Have you seen my glasses?” grandma waltz in the kitchen. My heart sank in confusion. The red bike looked new … but I’m pretty sure this is the same old rusty bike I wanted back then. But if this bike is not the same bike, then to whom does it belong to? If it’s in my room, does it mean that it is mine? I sat in front of it trying to solve this puzzle, because if its mine, I will definitely use it… ah! But if I am going to use it, I wonder where the key is? I abruptly stood up, look around the bike, turning the sack over just in case it was accidentally stuck there. When I turned the sack upside down, there was this envelope that flew away. The key might be there. I rush to get it like there is another person that will fight me for it, even though I am the only one in the room. Blood rush to my vein in excitement, I nervously open it. The key was wrapped inside a sheet of papers. I would have just ripped the paper off but the paper has my name in it, all in bold letter. I opened the paper… the key dropped on the floor. I never knew how loud a dropping key can make. I  looked at the letter but was scared to read it. I am afraid for my heart; its strength is swaying ever since the old man’s death. My hand was shaking as my eyes on its own sort through the letter. It was from the old man. ***When you were 8 you ask me whether you can have this old bike. It was the first time that you ask me for anything, I was so happy. I know I’ve not been a good father to you and I know this won’t make up for anything, but I wanted to grant your wish when you were 8. Please be safe. I know you like to do things your way and then end up hurting yourself. I worry that the next time… it will really be serious. I know you are a very strong girl … but I am your father, I think it is my job to worry. I think it was a mistake to have you learned all those martial arts … but then again, I want you to be able to protect yourself. I blame myself for not being able to teach you how to be a proper lady; I hope you can be more like your sisters. But no matter what… you are my daughter; know that I am so proud of you. Congratulation on your graduation***                 Before I knew it, water suddenly started flowing out of my eyes like crazy. I keep wiping them away but it won’t stop like a leak on broken faucet. Dang it! My chest hurts so bad that I can’t stop the sound from coming out… like a howling dog.                 I am not sure how or when, I opened my eyes and took a shock. I was in front of the old man’s grave gripping the letter on my chest. I stared momentarily at the old man’s tomb, I just cried… I hate the old man for dying so soon, I could have said ‘Thank you’ at least once.                 The rain was pouring down my face over the now muddy ground before the old man’s grave, and the tears started pouring again. I wonder when these tears will dry. I am not sure how long I sat there crying by myself, I really don’t care.                 I didn’t know how long I was sitting there… all I remember is seeing Erik’s exasperated face running towards me. He may have thought I looked pitiful at the time; he ran towards me and put his arms around me. I thought he would make fun of how dirty I looked, but he just hugged me. Erik sat beside me the entire night, in front of my father’s grave. He didn’t say a word, just quietly sat beside me, gripping on my hand like he was afraid I am going to disappear.                 When the sun finally came up I realize that I spent two nights in the graveyard. That sent chills down my spine. I look beside me, and saw Erik head on my shoulder. So that is the reason why I feel stiff, this jerk. I jerk his head off my shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes, then his eyes widened and shouted “wahhhhhh”, it was annoying. “What the heck?” I shouted at him. Erik looked around as if not sure where he is.