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Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia
Hey Hi. My name is Mr Cruzzo. If you like this blog please follow me all right... Please comment or just drop ur links there and I'll sure visit to ur website, click some ads u've got there and follow you as well. Thanks for the visit and dont forget to visit again. ;)

About Blog

Welcome to a Blog which provides you with Useful Information, Jokes/Video Clips, and Online Dairy. I'm also currently working to write a novel. you can read some of it if you're interested.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Chapter 1: The Runaway...

14 February, 1999, Sabah. – I’m scared. We’ve got to get out from this house, otherwise there will be blood paint on this house walls; and I can see bruises on mum’s face and whole body. Mum’s bruises and wounds seem severe as I look up from beneath my sister fluffy pink bed, hiding. That man outside walking around yelling at all of us. I can hear him waving his knife violently against the bedroom’s door, forcing to open the locked door. I descend my body deeper into my sister bed. BOOM! My 15 years old, oldest sister, Atie jumps out from the windows of the bedroom from the 1st floor and hits the ground. She runs as fast as she can to seek for help from the nearest neighbours. It’s too late. The door opened.

          SMACK! That man hits mum on the shoulder with his left fist and she topples to the floor. My older brother who is 13 years old coming from the corner of the bedroom seizes that man right hand that holds a knife and begs for pardon. Kuya cries so bad and begs the man to release his knife, afraid that it might slash mum. The man let go the knife, waves his hand and pushes Kuya against the wall. He takes that act from Kuya as an act of defiance, which mean more hits. Kuya regains poster holding back his tears, as the berserk man screams “You wanna fight me?” while hitting hard Kuya’s face and body several times. I freeze under the bed refusing to move a single muscle.
 
        I can see my 11 years old sister, Etil crying hard while assisting my mum to be on her feet again. Without dropping a single tear, mum with strength inside her looks at that man’s devil eyes. I pray hard, "Please God", I say to myself, "just let us get out from this house". Kuya is trying his best to keep away that man from getting closer to mum. That man murmurs something and another blow pushed Kuya’s head against the tile counter top. I can hear people stomping down the staircase up towards this 1st floor bedroom. Just the second I see my aunt’s face in front the bedroom’s door, I run out from my hiding place towards my sister and mum. Somehow I breathe a sigh of relief. My sister, Atie also there is standing just right besides my aunt, crying really hard. Atie shouts painfully “Papa, please... That’s enough”. Aunt Mercilyn hugs Papa from the back. With a soft tone aunt Mercylin tries to calm down Papa and brings him outside the room.

         My sister Etil quickly grabs mum’s right hand and leads her out from Atie’s bedroom. I follow as I hold mum’s left hand. I tremble with great fear when I look at that man’s eyes; the eye of a killer, the eye of no-sympathy. It was once an eye of a loving father; a very caring and funny husband to my mum. He seems to have lost his soul and no longer reminds of himself.

I'm Sorry... But I don't want to be just like you...

11:04pm Friday, 21 May, 2010.

So, finally it ended that my blog is “the shoulder” that I lean to at times I feel like crying. I am so burden... Its 2:44a now and I still can't sleep. After what happened at 11:04pm, which is hours ago, I really can't close my eyes and rest down my body. It’s a time I will not forget. A time my heart bleed, a time my brain worried. I trembled down to earth thinking of what have I said and done hours ago. I’m so sorry and I didn’t mean it. In fact, I never meant to do it. Now I don't know to whom should I say and cry my heart out. It seems to be only this blog could understand me. It seems like this blog is the only person I would really say about what I really do feel...
 
I know I need this blog. I feel so miserable. Bad like I’ve never been bad before. Bad like I'm should buried alive.. I'm sorry God. I'm so sorry... I never meant to bring this over the limit. I just crossed the boundary. I'm so sorry. I couldn’t say anything more. I even couldn’t express myself now. I'm just so sorry. I'm been bad, really bad...
 
Now God.. I pray for a heartening from you... I know I don't deserve anything from you... I don't.... I'm a rock-headed and a sick-hearted type of person. I am a bad man. God, if I have the chance, please stop this stream that’s non-stop falling down from my eyes to my cheeks... I can't take it any longer... after years of struggling not to cry finally I cried. Its the second time since 8 years ago. Its the second time... Maybe, I'm just too fragile... I need to be stronger after this. I won't cry again, I promised to myself. But for now God, I know even I cannot stop this stream of tears... It’s too painful... Too painful that I couldn’t hide and hold back my tears. I'm sorry... I'm just sorry...

I won't forget this day like I never forget those other important days of my life... too much happening... It is too much for me to comprehend... I'm sorry.... I'm just so sorry......................It’s 3:05am.. I don't know what should I do now... I'm lost...