a little space i call my own

my name is fish

there was never a difference from any other kids when i was small. i grew up normally, i dare to say. my performance in school was exceptionally brilliant. my father, rather my whole family is proud of me.

when i was small, one thing always never failed to puzzled me. i didn't have a mother. everyone, every classmate, every teacher has a mother. but me. i only have a father. although there are many others present in the house, my uncle, my auntie, the butler and his wife. and another woman. one which i never take notice of.

when i grew older. i learnt how to count days. i counted how long will i see this woman. every week. only once. and she only comes by during dinner time. she would pick a seat beside me and help me get the vegetables. there's so many of it; i just get so annoyed. until one fine dinner, i stood up and scowled at her" I DON'T WANT!"

the atmosphere is tense. everone is scared that i might just eat her up. sensing the tense atmosphere is caused by me, i got more irritated. my father took charge. he ordered the woman to leave. and everyone to continue eating.

from then on, i notice the woman is living in my place. the only difference is that. she locks herself up in the room. she seems to hate the living room. occasionally, she would like to take a peep or two at me through the very tiny window space that is the only linkage from my room to hers. i hate it when people do things like a thief. afraid to be spotted by human.

and i keep telling myself, everything will soon be over...