My face

I was feeling troubled.
I wanted company for reasons I can’t explain.
I helped myself to the empty extra bed in sis’s room.

“Please la, let me sleep here. Not like I’m disturbing.”
“No. GET OUT.”
“Why?”
“No reason. This is my room and I want you OUT.”

Months later, I was pacing back and forth in my sis’s room.
Like a repetitive nightmare, I was experiencing anxiety yet again.
But I didn’t dare say anything.
I went to my room and hid under the covers.
My sis knocked the door and asked, “You want to sleep in my room?”
I nodded earnestly.
“Then, say so lar! Only show your stupid face!”

I told my father about a government doctor’s disrespectful treatment towards me.
I was 17.
“You know, you have a very unpleasant face. That’s why people tend to have a bad impression of you.”
If he had said anything else, I wouldn’t know because I wasn’t listening anymore.

Everyday only show your black face! That’s why we have such bad luck in the house!
My mother said many other things of course, but it’s irrelevant for my posting here.

"Do you understand? You have such blur face."
My teachers always say this. My ex-classmates would readily nod to this memory.

During my temporary stint as a waitress back in my teens, my colleague always asks me if I’m alright. I ask why I wouldn’t be.
“Because you always have such worried face.”
Then she did an impression of me that made me laugh.
She’s real sweet. Subsequently she told me a real life sob story that was supposed to make me feel better.

I was waiting for a friend. She’s late as usual.
I was walking back and forth.
Two jolly men walked towards me, “Ah Moi, are you okay?”
I looked up very surprised. I smiled and nodded, looking really confused.
“You looked really sad. Why lar? Young people should be happy.”
I beamed, not knowing if it was for his sake or mine.

I cried back in the psychiatric ward.
A friend there wrote this to me. http://teasips.blogspot.com/search?q=vince