I used to blog this true story in my old blog. However, today is a remake with a novelistic approach. Some parts were exaggerated by my recollections, but mostly I tried to stick to the original story line.
It was quarter past two, I remembered. That day seemed aridly hot, despite the circling air spewing from giant rattling fans rotating within the space of four walls, surrounding us.
Tia*, her hair were shining ravenblack. Her eyes were forlorn, as if smiling in pain. I've always found here eyes intriguing, mysterious.
We were sisters. We weren't gay, though we were from a girls' school. She was like a younger sister I never had. Music was our passion, that's what brought us together. We would share our passion for this melodic mathematical art off school hours and the other things - which were less signficant.
Seconds passed so slowly, sound of the clock's ticking seemed to take every space in the school hall. She had something to tell, something deep. So I waited. Patiently.
"I have problems." she started saying.
"What's troubling you?" I replied.
"I tried telling my batchmates but they were too young to understand. I wanted someone older to hear me." Crystal beads slowly forming in her brown eyes.
"Tell me then."
"It's my brother." Somehow, my heart had an inkling it's something dark, murky. An unchartered territory that nobody wanted to be in.
"What about him?"
"Can't you understand me already?" (more like, takkan tak paham-paham lagi kut? were the exact words)
Silence filled the room. Minutes went by without any words exchanged. Nada. There was nothing to do but braced through this, I thought.
Like any 17 year old, I could only lend my ears. Also, my black pen and unused A4 science book - in case words become too difficult to utter.
Tia started to fiddle with the pen, sketching the weirdest things, then it went to constant poking into my poor old science book as if venting bottled up anger. God knows how hard I tried to stay calm watching Tia. All I could do was just.. waiting, and waiting until she was willing to pick up from her last words before.
Eventually, the conversation carried to details that were too much for a 17 year old like me to swallow and a 14 year old to tell.
"It started when I was 9. I didn't understand what was going on, but I think my mother suspected something. At that time, it was just you know, curious on the outside. I think he was 15 at that time, learning about the first chapter on human biology." (the 80s babies would know what chapter this is).
Stunned I was. "He's your brother, how could he?"
"Half brother."
"Oh."
"It didn't happen often, I mean, only when I went back to my hometown. That's why I don't like long holidays. I have to face that two-faced hypocritical demon. He can play alim with ketayap with my parents but still do it with me upstairs, while my parents are downstairs."
"Why didn't you ask for help? Did you even cry for help?"
"No I didn't because when it first happened, I was too young. I didn't know what was going on. Now I do."
More pen poking into science book. Only this time, the pen was already becoming blunt, running out of black juice. My eyes could only let her be.
"Nobody believed me you know. My screwed up sisters thought I hated him, trying to get attention."
"Your parents?"
"My dad doesn't fucking care. I told him last year when it last happened. You know what he said to me?"
"What?"
"Benda dah lama, lupakan je lah. Well, when I told him, it was already months since it last happened. He also thinks that if I reported it to the police, there's no proof. All the traces are gone. The police might think I'm a bohsia. Of course he is fucking protecting his favourite son. I hate him. I hate them both."
My jaw dropped instanteneously. Almost speechless. To be morally correct, her father was never bound to be helpful anyway. He's an abuser and cheater to be exact. Maybe he expected his son to be just like him. Wallahualam.
"How about your mother?"
"She's the only one who cares about me in that wretched family. I don't want to tell her, I feel as though I've dissapointed her."
For a moment I felt like puking. It seemed so fucked up. The whole bloody thing was. Lost for words, I called it a day. Those 4 hours we sat there seemed the longest in my life.
Suddenly, it felt like the weight of her problems fell on my shoulders.
***
After lights off time, there were nights when I would loiter around Cik J*'s quarters. Of course, this remained a secret from many - who in their right mind would want to be the favourite of the most hated warden in a boarding school? That's just asking for peer pressure cum trouble.
Anyway, that fateful night, for all the respect I had for Cik J, I decided to seek her advice on what happened to Tia.
"Who's this girl?" Cik J asked, after I spilled the details.
"I can't say. She asked me not to tell anyone. But I need your advice to help her, if I can."
"It's tough. For all you know, she could be enjoying it herself. There's no way to proof the rape."
Honestly, she sounded as fucked up as the father herself. Enjoying herself sounded too disgusting for a naive girl I was, even if it's true. Maybe, she didn't have kids and divorced once, hence, couldn't care less. Not sure the latter fact made her say what she said. It sounded plain sick to me, and that same sick feeling this afternoon recurred as those words rung again and again in my head.
Her advice naturally, didn't lift a finger of burden off me. Days passed as I drowned in my thoughts on what to do next.
* are not their real names.
