Miranda's father passed away. She was her father's favourite girl.
There is another old saying, God calls those whom God loves the most. The Divine Being no longer wants them to be in anguish in the materialistic world.
Losing someone you love is a pain that you will never get used to even if your pain management is high. It hurts from the inside. It doesn't leave a scar physically to be healed. It leaves a scar that only time can heal.
Well, I just happen to no longer want to know God. I am what the world would call an atheist or a free believer.
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It was just a regular weekend for Miranda. Her mom brought her to visit her father and have some Father-daughter time.
Miranda's parents divorced when she was 7 years old.
It was a routine. Miranda would spend the weekend with her father and the weekdays with her Mother.
I envy her relationship with her father.
The car stopped in front of her dad's house.
She got out of the car and hurried into the house.
The front gate wasn't locked.
The door was locked.
She tried calling her father from outside.
Her mother tried calling his phone.
It came back unreachable.
It went along for roughly 20 minutes.
Susanna, Miranda's mother decided to call the cops.
The cops arrived.
They broke the door and entered.
A few seconds later.
They came out and ended up wishing Miranda and her mother condolences for their loss.
Her father had passed away.
The cause of death was natural.
She attended the funeral.
It was more of a custom before the body was buried.
Close ones say their last goodbye to the body.
It is mostly a peck to the cheek or a salam.
The funeral was held 2 days later as a result of arranging the funeral and waiting for her paternal relatives to attend.
The body was not in contact with chemicals. Muslims believe that the body should go as the body had come into the earth. They kept the body as natural as ever.
The body was given its last bath to be cleansed and purified as the tradition.
The body had turned a little dark far from the original skin complexion. The body was cold as it had lost its warmth. The skin appeared to look hard. The eyes of her father that remind her of warmness and life were lifeless and black.
Hence Miranda felt slightly less interested in doing the final greeting of a child for its father.
Her mother understood.
She was condemned to be disrespectful to her father by her paternal relatives.
The salam is a religious salutation among Muslims when greeting.
The following month, Miranda broke into depression. She had become a ghost.
She lost her sleep. She lost her appetite. Her eyes were lifeless. They no longer had the spark that they had. Underneath her eyes were obvious black circles. She wanted to be left alone.
She was taken to the psychotherapist. The doctor immediately assigned Miranda to 3 months of medical leave.
At the age of 14, she lost someone dear to her. Her father's last wish for her before his death was to score good grades in the final exams. She was promised a reward if successful.
All she felt like was crying her heart out. She was still in a daze. She yet had come to accept that she lost a soul dear to her.
No one does, not even if years were to pass. I am still not over the fact, my first pet, an adorable 4-year-old bitch died 2 days before my newborn brother came home. She died a day after he was born. She was a Shih Tzu. I still love Daisy to the point I lost my meaning of trust and love after her death because my biological father poisoned her.
May he rot in Hell. I don't care about the outcome of cursing him. All I want is for him to feel the same endless anguish that I have seen and felt and it still lingers on me.
After all the parent is the gravity point of the child as to what I believe.
Love is eternal.
Hate is ever eternal too.
I hate death but I also hate life.
Reality is a scary monster underneath your bed that wants to be friends with you but is afraid of itself as it is afraid of you.
We are all not Boo and definitely, not all monsters are Sulley. Some monsters are like Henry J. Waternoose ||| and Randall Boggs.
They are characters from Monster.Inc
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Bethany was the mediator for the Indian kids and me.
They were indeed the definition of uncivilized conservative individuals to me.
Trust me, I don't intend to be racist nor do I intend to justify my acts because they were a symbol of pain in the uterus as All Might was the former Symbol of Peace.
He is a character from Boku no Hero Academia
Yes, I hate menstrual cramps so I refer to the pain they gave mentally as worse than the cramps. He was so lucky to only get away with a slap.
In this world that has long gone from having limitations to dreaming as high as the sky reaching the moon.
Sex is still a taboo topic. Especially if a being with a vaginal that menstruate talks about it.
Gosh, the aftermath drama is more chaotic than the taboo is.
Do they even know that the Kama Sutra that originated from them is worldwide seen as a divine art of procreation? Kama Sutra is an art.
What's worse, they only communicate in Tamil. Dude, I understand Tamil but I just can't converse in it. It is a hassle learning to roll my tongue to speak the language when English is at my comfort. I just have no interest in being lingual in a language that I was never keen on from the start. My mother never forced me to learn the language as she was not lingual in that Language.
If there were Indians Kids that were to communicate in English, they suddenly degrade to a low caste despite being from the ancestry of a high caste.
I don't seem to understand the gravity-defying logic here.
Each caste was differentiated into 2 classes.
Either high or low.
The caste status defined them as beings of civilisation or beings of barbaric lifestyles.
Even I was far from concerned about the status of my caste. Thanks to my mother embedding in my blood. I was a high-caste Pillai from my maternal side.
On my paternal side, I was a high-caste Rao.
So it screwed me from within my sanity being condemned by those fools.
I rebelled against their conservative standards and I enjoyed it.
Fuck it.
YOU ARE READING
It just felt right because It was unnecessary drama.
RomanceWell, this is a journal, so you found it. Can I say Happy reading into my life? The life of a kid who hates love. This is a love story, darling. Well, I don't know about you but I hate school, I have been told it is a place to mingle with good souls...
