Abandoned

The anticipation was building up. I could not wait to see my mother again! A two years of our separation had left a scar in my life. Abandoned. My body was shaken up a bit; there was this battle of my mind against my heart. One missed her much, while another hated her for what had happened. I could only lean my head on the train window, that one morning, and stared to nothingness...

Mom decided to move to Jakarta with her new husband. With her, she took my sister, my brother, and my half-sister away. But, Dad and his 10 years old (that's me!) chose to stay in Bali. Believe it or not, that was my own decision. I loved my school, my friends, and the "brainiac boys club", which I proudly started! I loved Bali with all its kindhearted people, the land, the sea, the mountains, and so many other wonderful things! My memory served me back how crowded, noisy, polluted Jakarta was, while Bali was the exact opposite of that big city. Although Mom tried hard, there was nothing she could do to make me move with her.

The day Mom and my brother and sisters left the house, my life felt empty. I knew something important was taken away from me and I could never be the same anymore. Since that day, I had been learning to take care of my life without any help. I did not see my Dad much. When I left for school, Dad was still in bed. When I came back from school, he was not there. He was so busy at work that I could hardly meet him at home. As soon as I arrived at home, I grabbed any book and started reading. With my allowance money, I bought lunch from a street food seller near my house. In the afternoon, I would go to a friend's house or just play outside. My daily life was very predictable: boring!

My life was getting even more uncomfortable when Dad invited some of his friends - the smokers, drinkers, and gamblers (the loser's holy trinity!) - to stay with us. Sharing a house with these people was really a nightmare! They did nothing but drinking, smoking, and gambling. Slowly but sure, I was pulled into their lifestyle. In just a few months, my blood vessels were well-trained to consume alcohol without getting drunk and my eyes to read and count cards in many card games. Luckily, I didn't like the smell of tobacco, so I flunked the smoking lesson. Yet, deep down inside, I felt very depressed living with strangers without Dad at home. When feeling lonely, I dragged myself out of home and took the public transportation to just see Dad at his workplace, a bakery in downtown Denpasar.

In the end, I couldn't stand a life like that. Abandoned. I rarely went home directly after school. I would go out somewhere, anywhere, but home, to forget about my shattered family. One of my best friends invited me to stay with him. I could not resist such invitation - to keep me away from home! I stayed with him for one night, two nights, a week, and I never came home since then. His parents were very kind; they let me stay with them. They treated me like a son. They clothed me, fed me, and even took me on their family vacations. That was a period in my life when I finally felt loved again, even though it wasn't from my real parents.

I don't think I believed in God in that episode of my life. But, somehow, somewhere, someone was watching over this young soul. What a mystery! When I was thrown into a deep and dark chasm of life, a mighty hand caught my leg and pulled me out. Life was given a second chance. To be loved when love was nowhere to be found.

The rumbling sound of the train faded away when my head was full of what-ifs. What should I do when I saw Mom? Should I just keep my distance away and ignore her? Should I run into her and hug her? Would she still love me? I was staring out of the window while Dad was sleeping next to me. Everything moved like a flash, I could only catch a glimpse of all things around me. Ranges of mountains, stacks of padi fields, streams of rivers - all were passing by without a chance for me to admire their beauties. Yet, it was not them who were moving, it was me! And so was my life!