Welcome To My Hectic life...

Chapter One..... Allah hates me?

  Chapter One..... Allah hates me?

     In a huge, lovely bungalow house, there is a mother who is cleaning her kitchen. The rest of her sons and daughters are organizing their stuff- taking it out from the boxes and placing it in their right places. Everyone has dark circles under their eyes from the restless sleep they all got from the day before. Why is this?

     Finally, after a couple of minutes of eerie silence - which hardly happens with this family - as they all are set and self-occupied with their own task, Mother sent a task to her oldest daughter who happens to finish faster than the rest.

     Eyes like a hawk, Mother said, "She comes. That evil uninvited guest again. You know what to do..."

     Yes, it's her. She and her family who has been this family's enemies for ages. They had killed many of the family's ancestors, and the family had killed many of them in return. A life for a life right?

     "You want me to kill her," the Daughter asked, faking innocence and amusement. The truth is she has longed for this day to finally kill her. This, monster, had almost killed her once. She was a survivor and because of that she can finally have her revenge.

     Her mother gave her a plain stern look. She knows how much her daughter wants this.

     "Stop joking. Now go avenge us," Mother turned back to her unwashed dishes, "and spare no pity!"

     The Daughter smirked.

     Who is this evil, vengeful and murderous Daughter? It's me. Yes, this is my mother, my siblings and my new home. These disgusting monsters don’t seem to want to leave us alone to live in peace and harmony. They caused this, they brought it upon themselves. Their penalty is death!

     Don't worry; this murderous killing is not prohibited in my country, Singapore. It is fairly legal. In fact, it is encouraged.

     There she is. I let out a satisfied creepy laughter. I see her. She's in our living room, roaming about in the air, searching for new victims to suck blood from. She doesn't seem to notice my presence as I hide behind the cemented wall, spying on her like a ninja assassin.

     She is fragile and could easily be killed but the problem is that she is quick so she can make a run for it. How should I kill her? With a book? No, using my hands is enough and more gratifying.

      With a one quick, tight slap on her tiny body that once gave me the deadly dengue fever that almost took away my life, I had successfully smashed her to her death.

     Eww. Her body is still squashed, sticking to my hands. I went to the window to blow her dead-mosquito body away from my left hand. That will teach her. I hoped for the impossible that the other mosquitoes were watching this, fear us more, and leave us alone. But I know for a fact that they will never learn and will soon come attack us again.

      I and my family had moved in to this Bungalow house just yesterday. I have to say, this house is beautiful! We finished loading the boxes from the truck at night, it was exhausting. We fell asleep soon in this one particular room. Yes, we all slept together. This might sound weird to you, but we are accustom to this kind of living since we once lived in a small cramped house and use to sleep together all the time; it's actually a nice feeling to sleep together as a family.

     But our sleep was cut short brutally. It wasn't because of my dad, Hamzah's harsh snoring like a thousand crickets in action, but we were too exhausted to care. In my case, I was awaken by a one tight slap at my right cheek that sent me jumping off the bed with both my hands up, ready in stance to fight back anyone. Man, I almost had a heart attack! It was my own mother, Karimah, who slapped me. She said that she only did that to kill the mosquito that was at my cheek. She didn't want the mosquito to disturb me.