Once upon a time, hugs were generous in the young family, given with genuine sincerity. Grace others with love, they had taught her, followed by a broad smile, a word of gratitude, and never to own a foul mouth. Give as you would receive, they taught her too. One for him, and the other for her - one was selfish, two were to be shared. Those were lessons of gold given to her.
In a small rural town of Borneo where she once lived, hunting was a game of sport - guns and parangs were tools of gold and victory. Here forth, she was trained never to fear lizards nor bats for they were served as gourmet to be savoured with a bon apetite. But, as days wore on, these blades paraded an evil glitter on the family's table. Darkness loomed over the house's shelter, and rain began to pour from the sky.
Yet as she grew, time continued to consume her. Hate your Mum, he taught her. Hate your dad, she taught her. In arrogance, he taught her a lesson to be learnt by her while she taught her a lesson to be learnt by him - none was willing to give in, burnt with pride. Words were spoken, heard and bottled. Like a needle poked from inside her, she was punctured, and juggled to gasp for air. She was no superwoman, indeed.
A second-hand smoker, a headstrong temper, a pro-alcoholic... she was made. As love overflew from the heart of a child, hatred drenched all of her. Sown with love, grown with weeds: the imperfections of a fallen generation.
