Book 1: Guns, Love, Roses

Chapter 1 - Love

Love, the strongest emotion in the world. To fall in love, and to love knowing that it's wrong in so many ways. It is truly a feeling like no other; taking years to build, and only seconds to destroy. Where I come from, this feeling of falling in love is rare because it can and will kill you. I grew up loving those who raised you unconditionally; those you call family. No matter what I was going through; whether I was on a date with the most gorgeous girl in the area, or as sick as a cancer patient, it was an obligation as a relative to look after family. To experience that warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach whenever you see that special person, or to truly spoil them with nothing but your attention and passion because I was head over heels for them is what I'm searching for; and will put myself in harms way just to find it, or even taste it.

I grew up with two older brothers who never failed to give me a hard time on a daily basis, but it was their way of showing tough love in dark places of our lives where we were didn't have time to show any affection at all living in Laos. We were barely shown attention growing up with Ma, and we didn't blame her considering she missed dad who was never home due to serving in the Laotian military. We helped Ma in the rice fields when we could, and during the evenings we would go and pick on other kids or throw rocks at Thai soldiers who were occupying our village.

Questions begin to arise whether or not it were possible to maintain this unconditional love for family, as temptation continuously surrounded me to both test and break what values held dear to me in Melbourne. What caused a personal predicament was whether not I was able to fall in love with a girl and resolve affairs at the same time. This posed a bit of an issue, and one that would forever challenge the values I believed in. I thought about it this way; where if my family were forced to put up having to raise both me and my brothers in a war torn country where the conditions were harsh, violence was rampant, and having to deal with the immense poverty that was cast upon us, then surely; if for some miracle I had survived, I would be mentally ready for a girl.

Thinking back, I could have easily been left to the wolves, but wasn't; and if not for how I was raised, I would not be here both alive and as a devious trouble maker. The only way to fall in love is if my Ma approved, and must I reiterate her high expectations. If I were to ever see a girl behind Ma's back albeit casually, was considered dishonourable and I would be disowned. Ma thinks the girls here in Melbourne have no discipline, lack manners, and have no respect for their parents. If the girl I wanted to be with didn't bother to fit in or demonstrate traditional family values then I was to remain single and pray to the Gods that I would cross paths with someone who would. The unrealistic pressure from my parents didn't bother me much however, as I considered this my sole mission to convince them otherwise, and to prove to that one lucky girl that I was worth the almost unbearable effort. Being told to marry a girl from Laos, a girl who has experienced hardship from not only a third world country, but also a war torn country would be a fitting wife; but we all know the life that our parents want for us may not always be fitting, thus adding to the already immense struggle to know what was right and what I wanted as well.

My family and I left Laos and sought refuge in Melbourne after the Australian government struck a deal with families who were affected by the war against the Thailand expansion; that being all fathers were to stay and fight, so our family took that deal. We moved to Melbourne when I was eight, but was constantly moving schools; reasons being that my brothers and I would always pick fights with other students due to being teased at not being proficient enough at English, and our poor financial position. Feeling sorry for Ma as she had to work overtime at the local dumpling store, the three of us could barely afford groceries to make or buy lunch; usually picking fights with kids we didn't like at our previous school for food or running troublesome errands for students who had money owed to them. These tedious errands would evolve to afterschool activities where we would help students get money from kids either at different campuses or hustled kids when told to; ignoring whether or not it felt like we were robbing them. Either way, if we could earn money by beating kids up or intimidating anyone who deserved it, we did it and couldn't care if people used us for that purpose. It wasn't long until we found out we were good at doing it.