I used to think their strained relationship was my own problem... but is a bad relationship between parents really the child's fault? After discovering their little secret they were hiding from me, I kept wondering if my existence was the root cause of their discord. I was born into a family with both parents, and from birth, I thought I was a lucky child. I had a happy family; I have two older sisters and two older brothers, but they are all half-siblings, so to them, I was a lucky child. But that's not how I see it...
From birth, I believed that as long as I could maintain their relationship, they wouldn't divorce. Those years were fine until I was ten years old, when things took an unexpected turn. Although I didn't witness the entire process with my father and her, and only saw their chat history, those pictures and those ambiguous short sentences were enough to show that their relationship was not simple. I also hope that my dear mother can know about this; after all, I feel she has the right to know, and she must know.But I hesitated to speak up. When I was ten, I was naive and thought that if I just tried to salvage their relationship, I could go back to my previous life. But things weren't as simple as I thought.
So I didn't say anything, like a coward, and got used to their noise. They thought their room was soundproof, little did they know I could hear everything clearly from the next room. My most vivid memory is seeing them argue so fiercely for the first time. I was completely dumbfounded. It was nine o'clock at night when they woke me up. I heard what they were discussing, and for some reason, tears welled up in my eyes. I didn't want to cry.Because I was instilled with the idea from a young age that crying is useless and you have to think about solving the problem... But as a ten-year-old, how was I supposed to solve this? My mind was a mess. Without thinking, I grabbed a knife. That was the first time I had ever cut my wrists. I cut them quite hard, and blood gushed out immediately, but it stopped bleeding after a while. Their arguing finally stopped too. I don't know how I fell asleep. Early the next morning, I was on the cold floor when my mother woke me up as usual to cook breakfast and take me to school. Like a heartless robot, hahaha. That analogy should be okay.
My dad is Malaysian and my mom is Chinese. I can't imagine what she felt when she first married into the family. I also think my dad was a bit ungrateful. When my mom first married into the family, she worked hard alongside me. My dad worked in an old grocery store. After I was born, I didn't look down on them. I enjoyed my life at the grocery store. There was an uncle who especially liked me like a treasure. I remember he was very young then; now I guess he must have a full head of white hair... I really miss that life now, haha. The New Year these days is losing its festive spirit. That's how I spent my long and repressive childhood...