The agony voice and screams of my mother are beginning to subside now. I just know the best thing I have to do is to get back to where I was before.
So i tiptoed to my room, walked past my books and assignment. Completely ignore it.
Making up my mind, if the math teacher is going to be again. Its okay for me.
After all, the subject is not for my likeness.
I step into my room and lie down on my bed. I slept off immediately until my mother’s knocking wake me up some minutes later.
And, there, she stands smiling at me like nothing had happened to her just fifteen minutes ago now.
She smiles to me, looking me with tender eye. Full with love and affectionate just like as usual.
Meanwhile, I can see the pain hidden in her tenderness. it’s really clear to me just like a normal day.
And now, she is in front of me still smiling. Like the pain and sober was never even there in the first place.
She smiled like my father hadn’t just treated her inhumanely with her helpless voice all over the house.
Like my father hasn’t just hurt her emotionally and physically. I was surprised to myself
I felt pity but I couldn’t just mutter a word because I know it wouldn’t be my mother’s expectation that I had been hearing her helpless voice since.
“Table is set, come for dinner” my mother’ sonorous voice breaks the silence.
Her voice is not shaky as I had expected. It’s surprising that her voice doesn’t change. It was just how sonorous and sweet is normally be.
I just nod in response, try to smile bleakly. While she waited for me to get out in my bed and accompany me to dinning table.
I arrive at the table with my mother, and i saw father already seated. While my mother began playing her dutiful wife’s role.
But I don’t understand the whole thing. Why is my mother not angry at him. “was he not him just assaulted my mother some minutes ago” I ponder.
“Why doesn’t my mother hate him all this while, I hated my math teacher because he flogged me all the time when I failed his work” I thought to myself.
“And. I hated my civil education’s teacher because he’s in charge of latecomer. And always beat me for coming school late.
“So why is my mother not hating this man?” I thought to myself.
The right thing to do after a person inflict you with pain is – hate!
A person that make you cry and caused you pain emotionally and physically deserves nothing but hate.
But with my Dearing mother here, things are surprisingly different. She looked as if she doesn’t even cared about the beatings.
As if as my father always beat her more. Her love, caring and affectionate for him keep growling.
But all I wanted is her to hate him and show him. Maybe if she does, my father would stop inflicting her pains.
“I guess you don’t like your food getting cold” my mother calmly warned.
I raised my eyebrows and I looked her. Then I change my gaze to my father eyes. Looking him with, rembering hidden pains written on my mother faces.
My father also looking straight into my eyes. His expression is also calm and endearing as usual.
My father looks as if he doesn’t have war with anyone in the house some moment ago.
…to be continued