2004-03-29||8:10 p.m.

::\Welcome Home, Mum!/::

I get off the bus and automatically turn left. I head towards the traffic lights, thinking of what else I had to do. Piano lesson. I trudge across the street as the man turned green. I cut my way through the small patch of grass and crossed the next road. I walk down the short stairs to the neighbourhood and head straight. When I come to the T-junction, I turn left, and as I do, I unconsciously turn my head to my right, trying to see if Ling is home.
I have been doing that for a few months already. I know she may not even be living there now, but I don't know. Lost contact with her a few months ago, but I've still been doing the same thing. I miss her. She was nice. To me.

Well, anyway, I turn right at the end of the road into the small neighbourhood or eight houses or so. I see a house with a few little kids playing in the garden. I smile to myself inside, remembering how I used to play in mine when I was little. I walk to the end of the short stretch of road, then turned left into the little alley. As I walk through the alley, I feel as if I am preparing myself to enter my neighbourhood. I have no idea for what reason I do that all the time. It is as if my neighbourhood is some sacred place, and you do know how you have to prepare yourself before you enter a sacred place and all. It always feels like that.
I enter this sacred place of mine and breathe in deeply. The beauty of the park takes me by surprise for a split second, and then, I recognise the familiar features of it once more and I smile. The trail of stones, the fitness area, the playground, the shelter. I pad up the slope, admiring the beauty of the playground as I go. I feel, as the familiarity wraps around me, a sense of security and safety. I feel as if I am truly home.

To tell the truth, I wouldn't know what I would do, if I were to shift permanently from this house. This house, this neighbourhood contains memories of my childhood. And well, most of my childhood memories are almost forgotten, so yea, the ones left I hold closely.

After my piano lesson, I get on my bike and pedal off. I steer the bike through the winding roads of the neighbourhood, flying down the slopes and slogging up the other side. The wind rushing past my ears sound like a storm, I want to soften the noise, but cannot seem to. I ride past a man walking up a slope, and as I see him walk serenely up the road, I cannot help wondering why he can't hear the freedom I am hearing. I ride past my primary school and I smile as I see students heading back home.
The thought of my mom at home, only a few metres away propels me forward. I ride with vigour, with strength, with speed. I shoot through the street,turn right into my neighbourhood and ride down the final slope. I stop in front of my house, panting for breath. I press the doorbell and wait impatiently as my sister opens the gate.

Finally I am in. I ask hastily where my mother is and dash up the stairs. I call for my mother and hear her surprised answer in return. A smile immediately forms on my face and I fling myself into her open arms. Tears almost come, but I hold them back. This is not a time for crying, it is a time for rejoicing.

Welcome home, Mum!

Fayes

tide in || tide out

::\The End/:: - 2004-04-04
::\Thank You & Goodbye/:: - 2004-04-04
::\Guaranteed Promises/:: - 2004-04-03
::\Forgive Me/:: - 2004-04-02
::\A Prayer to the Angel of Tears/:: - 2004-04-01