somewhere on my way by Anna N. Schnieden (best ebook reader for pc TXT) 📕

they need someone to clean their fucking shit, you’re the best convenient option!! Doll’s head!” Moonlight.

 

“I don’t want to be like them! I hate them. I don’t want to be something I hate!...Bitch!” Me.

 

We were laughing after that, they actually got the message, I supposed, because they ceased to be nothing to me. Before we headed to the school kitchen, Moonlight said,

 

“I told you, we have each other. And that’s all we need!” Moonlight.

 

 

It was a thought at the moment, how could I be like something or someone I hate? I did not want to hate myself…and if I did…hate…me???...oh…no, I cannot imagine how things would go!

 

 

Studying, Learning, and Working: It happened all at once

 

 

Some say one door closes to open another door. By the age of 12 with some luck…. at last…I was in high school along with a scholarship and, of course, Moonlight was there as well. To get in the school, I had lost myself and temporarily lost my best friend…then I had to move back to the mother’s house. On top of all that, the high school was hard to get in to and hard to get out of without being insane. Luckily, I was already a lunatic and, most importantly, the madness idea of this ambition was the mother’s insisting, “You need to get into that school. Do you understand?” With her extreme physical speaker, therefore in that powerful sound, it was an impossible effort and skill to reject against the odds…I always thought I looked like deaf people!

 

She wanted me to be a veterinarian or a human’s doc because it was a moneymaking occupation, which was very very mentally disordered because she did feel a passionate dislike of animals and that was what she always said to me…more like she was afraid of them, but she wanted me to be….? Back to her house was not so bad, just like it used to be. I had learnt to manage the mental residents to get my job done, hiding when the mental residents gradually turned into psychopaths, and shut my mouth as much as possible. My jobs were cleaning everything, and a new arrival job was cleaning feces for her father, my grandfather. He was one of 2 new residents. I did not mind, as long as I could keep the psychopaths intact, besides, he was good to me.

 

Moonlight and I always stayed late at school, it was around 7:00 to 7:30 pm before we left, and it was going on for about 3 months. Actually, we were hiding as well because we were not allowed to stay late, unless…supervised. Eventually, we got caught and that was my class attendant, who was not only my teacher, but also my…life advisor. She was an assimilating and optimistic person, and she always tried her best when it came to “Survivor 101 Questions.”

 

One evening, while we were doing our homework with Ms. Goody, my class attendant, I was wondering about the mother’s new husband, another new resident who was AKA “Idiot.” It was not my word; it was the brother’s. The idiot did not like watching television or listening to music, and that was difficult…to live with someone

 

 

 

who liked to lie down on a couch eating popcorn and coke in front of an endless on- demand television. The idiot did not like the mother, the brother or me, saying grace before a meal…in the Catholic version. One day, while we were praying…and without a warning, the sound of true god was spoken.

 

“Stop it. Why are you praying for god? I’m the one who cooked the bloody food!!” The Idiot.

 

Personally, I did not mind praying for him, I thought he was right! I was told that he liked cooking and he also liked to hide foods, fruit, chocolate, and some sweets…honey in his closet…seriously…To be honest, I was laughing and almost choked on my own tongue…he was absolutely right about the praying.

 

It was not easy to hide all that shit in a closet that was full of clothes, but the brother had his own ideas, and that was why the Idiot was born, understandably! I was…ok with him at first, and I did not mind praying to him or tolerating his halfwit. Mostly, I was hiding when I was home; however, he liked to supervise everything that everyone did, and no matter what business was connectable or unconnectable, he always liked to be connected. Later on, he graduated to become Mr. F. Encroach…those were my words and the brother loved…it. The praying stopped, but a television…punch began, only this time the brother was under his mammy’s exclusive protection. The brother had won the punch and Mr. F. Encroach was very very mad. I had learnt one significant importance, “Do not cross the brother, period!”

 

After I finished wondering about Mr. F. Encroach to Ms. Goody, I could see an undeniable sorrow all over her face, I was confused about why she was sad, however, before the sorrow turned to misery, I started shooting questions.

 

“Ms. Goody. How can someone possibly love someone like Mr. F. Encroach? It’s disgusting really. I meant, chocolate or sweet pack is mmm all right, but food? Honey? In a closet?…full of clothes?” Me.

 

“Well, what do you think? Why does Mr. F do that?” Ms. Goody.

 

 

First, I was thinking of an explanation, as once Ms. Goody said, “We should not judge people speculatively until knowledge has been proved undoubtedly.”

 

“For the incense purpose…possibly…maybe?” Me.

 

 

“Oh dear, do better.” Ms. Goody said with a smile.

 

 

Ok, time for my realizability now, my head started to think!

 

 

“Well clearly, the action was very antagonistic. But again, it’s hard to keep food or snacks for good use later when he lives with someone who likes to eat almost everything that is unharmed. But then, as a father duty, he’s opening…hmmm a house war.” Me.

 

“Isn’t it? Very well, so maybe that is what your mother thinks about…the food! Seeing doesn’t always mean understanding. Many people don’t actually understand what they see with their eyes. You’re one of the brilliant minds. Promise me, you’ll always try to be true. It wouldn’t be easy or always. But, if you want to do something that isn’t you, it must have a good reason!” Ms. Goody.

 

“Hmm…What kind of a good reason would be untrue, Ms. Goody?” Me.

 

 

“The kind to protect yourself from harm. Sometimes, cruelty must be forced when it’s necessary!” Ms. Goody, with her right fist out.

 

In that kind of muscular reassuring of her fist, how could I resist? I keep my promise…sometimes very, very serious.

 

“Yes, Ms. Goody, I do so promise.” Me.

 

 

“I only hope I can guide you to the right directions!” Ms. Goody.

 

 

“Me too.” Moonlight: And we all were laughing…

 

 

Let’s see about that, shall we? Moonlight and I did not spend time with the other students, only a group study, Moonlight had different reasons than mine. “We are lunatics,” she said, “with PTSD clarification and you also have OCD. That’s why they don’t understand us.” Life was getting better and better!

 

The PTSD is a condition that can develop following a traumatic or scared-to-death event, such as a sexual or physical assault, the unexpected death of a loved one, or a natural disaster. People with PTSD often have lasting and frightening thoughts and memories of the event, and tend to be emotionally hmmm…insane and insensible. Frankly, I admired all those psychology studies, it seemed to…be…accurate, except the emotionally numb part, and my thought while I was reading was, “I think, we are going to need more than PTSD to get to the state of deprived.” Don’t you think? All the paths I had been on, I met a lot of lunatics with PTSD clarification, many of them had far worse symptoms than mine, I did not see once, NUMB…yet. If I had been…numb? I would probably be dead…or worse dead …and…hmmm rape? And the OCD is a condition that is plagued by constant…crazy thoughts or fears that cause them to perform certain rituals, voodoo problem, or routines. The disturbing thoughts are called obsessions, and the rituals are called compulsions, in another word, “Nutsy…” An example is someone with an unpleasant emotion caused by thinking of microorganisms who constantly washes his or her hands. I was arguing with Moonlight.

 

“I don’t have a certain voodoo problem.” Me.

 

 

“Who knows, maybe one day? You’ve routines and your lunatic is always out when it’s interrupted!!!” Moonlight.

 

“Ok, what about the unreasonable compulsive, I’m not!!” Me.

 

 

She was right, damn! By the time we actually lived together, my head already clarified for OCD and so did she…she did not admit it, but she had it! It was before the last semester of my last year in high school, when Moonlight and I decided to kick ourselves out from the place that was supposed to be safe…home? Again, we had different reasons for kicking ourselves out…Moonlight…Me!!

 

 

Moonlight’s reasons were noise and Mr. Johnn Walker Black Label, Moonlight’s mother had an intimate relationship with Mr. Johnny Walker Black Label, together they created an unimaginable opera…. expertise? I remember once at Moonlight’s grandparents’ house, before we moved out to an apartment. Moonlight and I were sleeping like a soldier, while the opera was on demand, and Mr. Johnny Walker Black Label tried to kick Moonlight and me…hard! And while we were pretending to be two soldiers, two real police were at the door! In that moment, we did make our decision…we needed to move out ASAP!

 

ASAP was not…appearing itself generously, in order to move, we needed three months’ payment for renting an apartment, which was another month and a half before we could move because we had to wait until we got paid from a part-time job. Moonlight and I cleaned dishes for a restaurant and I also had another job! It was homework cheating. I was…a gun-girl for hiring, my services were 15 baht for copies of my homework, 20 baht for doing homework, and a cheating for the final examination was 50 baht. The business was going pretty well, I was good at it…the cheating!! I could remember everything I read for two days, regarding of self-experiment, Moonlight thought I had autism as well. I told ya, life was getting better and better.

 

My reason for moving out was a very very rushed one, it was a sort of extremely urgent, emergency situation, and it was nothing to do with opera or Mr. Johnny Walker Black Label. It was something to do with Mr. Dick who was formerly called Mr. F. Encroach. Before I was going to chop his dick head off, (by all means, dick-head) he liked to share some books, which were too peculiar for a 12-year-old child, in Ms. Goody’s words. I did not know what to do with it…I was too little…for…heaven sake? So, the brother had an idea, every time I saw the too-peculiar books, I gave them to him.

 

By the time Mr. F. Encroach gradually became Mr. Dick, I was 16, and I needed to chop the dick-head, which stood out in the mother’s living room every morning. No matter how early I tried to get out for school, it seemed to beat my time and the living room looked…profound disapproval, aroused by something unpleasant. On a particular day, the dick-head started making an action that made me think, “It must be desperate for a man when dick-head is out…without a hole.”

 

 

In 10 seconds of seeing the ordinary dick-head’s movement, I walked to the mother’s kitchen, got a chopping knife, made in China…quite a bit…too big for the dick-head, but the cut would have been certain! When I got back to the living room, Mr. Dick and the dick-head had already started running and screaming! No wonder where I got my PTSD! Like wise men always said, “Everything and every action has consequences”; I landed at Moonlight’s grandparent’s house the very same day. The dick-head won, the mother decided to keep the dick-head.

 

When the day finally came, no more opera, no more Mr. Johnnie Walker Black Label and no more Mr. Dick.