I was awakened this morning with the sound of raindrops falling from an overcast sky on to the tin roof of my borrowed house and the gentle breeze that makes the flimsy curtain dance as it hangs on my window. I looked outside and saw a big yellow flower with drops of rain in its beautiful petals glistening in the morning light. With all that, I breathe a short thanks to Heaven for the cool morning and promised myself that this is going to be one beautiful day; it will be one of the best days of my life. Oh, could I be more wrong...
Someone was at the door. No, there were two people knocking at my door. I looked over my shoulder and try to recognize who they are. When I went to open the screen door, I was astonished. There standing before me was my niece whom I haven't seen for what, 11 years? The last time I saw her, she was 5 years old. Now standing before me, all grown up, 16 years old. I let my eyes linger on her face. The moonshaped forehead and the droopy eyebrows typical of Down's syndrome is very evident in that beautiful angelic face. I remember when she was still a baby (and I and the rest of the family haven't yet heard about Down's Syndrome thereby taking the irregularly shaped forehead for granted), everybody thinks that she will grow up into a beauty queen and certainly break some hearts. I agreed. My mind was still on this when I heard her mom state the purpose of the visit. Her voice, barely a whisper, was quavering. Her eyes were slowly swelling up with tears. But in her voice, there was no trace of sadness, only anger--a solid, naked, almost tangible anger. Her daughter was raped just five days ago...... she was saying.
There went my perfect day. As it turned out, it was one of the rare days when I want to bring out my grandfather's spear and throw it on somebody's chest with all the strength I could muster, or the nicely-sharpened knife in my kitchen and dig it into someone's heart, or the nylon rope in my closet and tie it around someone else's neck to strangle him to death.
I looked out my window, and there I saw the yellow flower, withered, inspite of the cool breeze and gentle rain. The petals bowed down to the heavy raindrops. It's color no longer that of rich sunshine yellow, but of a pale amber--just a shadow of the beauty that it was when I saw it this morning. My retarded niece, abused by heartless animals, not only once but twice. She doesn't know how she should feel neither she grasps what she had lost. I looked at her and she seemed to be the same very special 5- year old girl that I held 11 years ago, a picture of purity and innocence. I don't know where she hides the pain. I will never know how much unshed tears is hiding in those pretty innocent eyes. I can never comprehend from where the innocent beauty emanates. Maybe I really don't want to know. Maybe I will never have the heart to really understand. Because tomorrow, all I hope to see, when I look out my window again is a beautiful flower in all its big yellow glory. I love you Janice...
(This entry is a recycle from two years or so ago. I reposted it because the fight is on-going.)
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