I opened my eyes this morning. Looked at the ceiling. Saw a dark brown spider spinning its little web. Oh yes, it was a HUGE spider with busy eight legs, knitting a new palace to trap the innocent passer-bys. It is the law of nature that the strong prevails and the weak, spun in a web of deceit with death being the only sweet release.

I wriggled all ten toes and wrapped myself deeper into my duvet as the sound of rain splish splashed down from the skies. I could hear the occasional cars driving pass during the morning rush. The ceiling fan rotated at a slow speed, creating a gentle coolness in the deep purple bedroom of mine.

My mobile buzzed.

“I’m up, I am up.” I said.

“Well would you like breakfast at the usual place?” My father asked.

“Sure, I’ll see you there in half hour.” I replied.

I kicked the duvet off. Arched backwards and stretched my lazy bones awake. Oh it felt good, had a dream of going home with Seven to Kota Kinabalu, I thought to myself. I closed my eyes. Dear God, I pray that you will guide me and help me through today. Show me Your ways and grant me favor among men. Amen.

Had a lingering shower, only to rush the rest of my morning rituals. I looked at the clock. Shit, I had another ten minutes to dress and arrive at my father and my usual breakfast spot. The rain stopped as if it knew that while I loved it, I wanted to be dry when I reached the breakfast café in my azure blue beaded high heels. I beeped the car open, looked left, right, left again (courtesy of good kindergarden education) and ran in the drizzle. I laughed throughout the ten meter sprint, through the front door, pass the gate and hopped right into my car.

The drive was short. It was less than five minutes drive away, consisting of a right turn at the first junction, a short probably two hundred meter drive along the main road and a left then after. Today’s drive was no different, excepting that all cars were driving in a less than usual way.

I noticed a dog lying in the middle of the road, on the opposite side. It laid on its side, its legs kicking. Tears welled up. I am such a wuss, I can not see pain. I signaled to the left, alighted from my car and locked it. I stopped a car on my side of the road and ran towards the other, towards the dog. I could hear the poor baby yelping in pain. I saw blood trickling from its big brown body when I reached it. A man on a motorcycle ran towards us and arrived a few seconds later.

Tears filled my eyes. I patted the dog and whispered to it repetitively “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay. It’s okay, everything is going to be okay.”

I chocked on my words as I looked into its eyes. It tried to give a bark but nothing came out. The man who arrived and stood next to me, left me comforting the poor dog. A few seconds later the dog was still and nothing that I could do would have mattered. I continued to pat it as if it would bring the dog back to life. I only stopped when the Malay man took off his red helmet, bent over and tapped me on my shoulder.

“Come, miss. Let’s bring the dog to the side of the road.”

The stranger smiled. Together, we carried the lifeless dog to the side of the road. Cars were driving by and traffic resumed its speed. I bent down, looked around to be sure that it was dead. The Malay man who got off his motorcycle about twenty meters away shook his head.

“The dog’s dead, miss. Let it go. I will call the town council to pick the carcass up. You go on your way. Don’t worry, I will take care of this.”

I whispered thank you to this stranger. I tried to give a smile. He smiled in return, looked me in the eye and said, “It’s okay, miss. I will take care.”

I walked back to my car. I could see the Malay man standing by the dog. He was calling the town council using his mobile telephone. I closed the car door and drove on to meet my father. The morning was no longer the same. My hands felt wet but it was not the rain.

It was pain.


***
Dear readers, if you saw a dog, broken on the road, would you not have stopped to help? Would it have made any difference if it was a man or a dog?


***
“Go away!” He screamed.

The house was dark. It was pass seven in the evening, the sun was no longer shining and there were no lights lit in the house. Music from the stereo engulfed the whole house and him. I could only see a tall shadow of him pacing back and forth between the sofa and the dining chairs. He had a bottle of Paraquat in his right hand and a knife in his left.

“Come out, Damien.” I said. I begged him to come out. “Come out, please come out.”

He paced up and down the living room. The television was switched on and random advertisements flickered, its reflection danced on the marble floor. He did not say a word. He walked to the back, towards the kitchen area. I ran through the block of terrace houses, to the back of the house. Through a small slit between the windowpanes, I could see him sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the white kitchen cabinet.


***
The kitchen cabinets were installed approximately four months beforehand. The previous cabinets were old, as old as the house that was built approximately ten years ago. Damien had intended to have new cabinets installed for the coming Chinese New Year celebration but he had them replaced more than six months ahead of schedule because he had broken most of the doors. He kicked and broke most doors in a fit of rage during an argument a month ago.

I let Mr. Liew, an old carpenter into the house so he could measure and build the new cabinets. He was amazed that the doors were as broken as they were on the day that he saw them. He asked me whatever had happened. How do you tell a stranger that someone you love broke each and every one of them in a fit of anger?

I did not know how, so politely I smiled and looked away.


***
His lips were moving but I could not hear a thing. It was getting difficult to see what he was doing in the house as light gave way to the night. He shook his head, then nodded. He mumbled and cried. He knocked his head against a cabinet door.

“You don’t want me anymore.” He said.

“No, no. I want you. We’ll be together.” I said. “Just open the door and come out.”

Damien hugged himself. He screamed and kicked the kitchen cabinet. He pounded his fists against the white doors. I took a deep breath. He might have changed the cabinets but he was still the same. Months later he was still relentlessly banging on them again. Six months earlier I told him that I could no longer cope with his anger issues. I asked to end the relationship and he asked for my patience while he changed.

He enrolled into a counseling session with our church pastor. Damien prayed to God every day, asking God to help him. Pastor James held our hands and prayed, “Change this man, O Lord. Give him a new spirit. Guide him and help him control his rage.” Each night before I slept, I asked God to help me and help him. Make Damien a new man, change his heart and help him manage his anger. I whispered to the omnipotent God, please help Damien. Please help me.

Another emotional storm brewed and blew last night. We had an intense argument and his temper flew, along with our dinner and cutleries. During dinnertime, he expressed his wish to exchange his five year old car with my less than a week old Proton Wira. I told him he could borrow it for a week but he had to return the car to me at the end of the week. I believe those were not the words that he had wanted to hear. I crouched as he threw my car key against the pale blue wall and broke the mirror. He not only broke the mirror, he broke the reflection on the mirror. He broke my soul.

“I really can’t do this anymore. I am sorry.” I said. I took my car key, my bag and walked out last night. I went home and it was pass 0300 hours by the time I laid in bed. Five hours of sleep for countless of days has finally caught up with me and I was late for work this morning. It was the fourth time this month as I stayed up to soothe and comfort Damien during his emotional breakdowns. Last night was the end.


***
Damien ran his fingers through his hair. He let out a loud scream. The kitchen cabinet took another kick. I drew a deep breath. I looked at my watch. It was almost 8:00 p.m. Two hours passed since I arrived there, after receiving a telephone call from a suicidal Damien.

“Open the door, please Damien.” I cried. “Please open the door.”

I broke down emotionally and sobbed. I turned around and slowly slid down. I could hear him cry inside. I could hear myself cry. I was exhausted mentally and physically. My spirit was broken. I did not wipe my tears away. Let the earth receive each tear drop.

There was silence and all I heard were crickets.

I stood up and peered into the kitchen. No longer could I see Damien. He was no longer leaning against the kitchen cabinet. I looked to the left of the kitchen, towards the sink and the stove. He was not there. I stretched myself a little more and looked to the right. It was the row of cabinets with the refrigerator at the end. Damien was nowhere to be found.

I squinted my eyes and tried to make sense of the dark kitchen. Finally I saw a shadow of him, lying very still on the floor, face down along the wall nearest to me. I called him softly. Damien did not move.

“Damien?” I said. “Damien, are you asleep?”

I screamed when I noticed a pool of blood seeping through his body. I banged on the back door again and again, asking and begging Damien to wake up.

“Wake up, Damien. Please wake up and open the door.”

It turned frantic and I wailed away. A man staying in a house on the other block opened his back door. He ran towards me and all I could do was bang on the door and scream for Damien to open the door.

The man peeped between the windowpanes. He looked worried and hurriedly he ran back to his house. I slid my right hand through the kitchen door and tried to reach out to touch him. He was too far away. He was not moving and I could no longer control my tears. He must be dead, I thought to myself. And it was all my fault.

A locksmith came to open the back door. I rushed into the kitchen as soon as the door was opened. I rushed towards Damien. I turned him over. I could see crimson red blood flowing from both wrists. He cut himself deeply and there was a gash on each wrist. Neighours were whispering worried words. The old lady staying next door shook her head. I clung onto Damien and hugged him tight. He was not moving. He did not utter a word. His eyes were closed.

In the dark, I rocked his body back and forth.

“It’s okay, everything is going to be okay.” I repeated those words as I wiped blood from his now serene face. I tried to stop the tears from falling. I took a deep breath and calmly said to Damien, “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay. I'm sorry, I promise I will never ever leave you.”


***
When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

~ an excerpt from Fix You by Coldplay




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