Chapter 2 Little Secret Turns Ashes 1

• SILENCE THEY SAY KILLS WHEN we fail to let out the ghost that haunts us. When we hide inside our fear and discriminate our true self for the world to know who we really are. I was a victim of that and I'm afraid of pulling the veil of my silence down, because of the feeling that the consequence shall be catastrophic. Because of this, I decided to keep my life from public eyes. Nothing about me was reveal until now. Will I say is fear or what? I can't tell. Or maybe it is. Or that I am afraid of myself?
• Or may be not? Maybe is something I can't continue to be silence about. Or pretend is saving for me to hide in the frock of my style. In my second thoughts, it won't serve any good if I began to tell my self lies that all is well and fine, that all is gorgeous like she when it is not. When I know it is he that broke the membrane of my art, leaving holes in a memory I cannot be silence about. When this silence is ulcer in my brain, I find it hard to forget the memory of it all; despite I try to let the wind blow all off.
• And being my first love is he, it is something my loneliness can't kill because of the weight of it in my head. And how it has hid inside the corner of me, I can't hide for too long. Thus, it will be unnatural to burn this part of my life and let silence strangle me in the middle of my sleep when it all starts mid-2022. It was a great joy in my life that I will be in dormitory school, away from my Mr and Mrs that frown at me whenever I think, contrary to what they think -- free, to feel free was the word for me.
• I feel gall when they talk. They say things that are offensive. Things that are worthless and makes me bored. Things that most times when l listens to, tune me and makes look at both as birds nestling each other. My Mr is a disciplinarian and a traditionalist. He doesn't take shit from anyone not even his wife. He believes everything he says can not be question. Everything about life, human nature and human thinking -- if strange -- is abomination. He believes life is ultimate and must be so.
• The same with my Mrs who is not a disciplinarian but moralist and a Victorian, who doesn't question the odds that fences life, perhaps, believes everything about life is ultimate as my Mr that is full of rage whenever earth is dry. Despite my Mrs is dawn in our home, making everything wakes with smile even when crack is our life. Yet, she doesn't think outside the box of seeing what makes the world of gold is, stealing not praying. She believes our life can get better when we pray.
• Both of them, despite they are different in thinking, however, I see both -- Mr and Mrs -- as birds nestling each other in the same nest. I see those things they say as wasteful to wet the heart of the heartless that doesn't give a damn. My reason can't question theirs but obey, for the fear of being punish. I try to imagine whether those things my Mrs says are possible to gulp. My Mr will always say I am a child with too many scrubs in my mind, growing taller to touch the sky.