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I couldn't understand why I was locked up in a small, square room. along with a desk littered with documents Each edition is filled with different characters and text formats. But all of them have a common point of keeping me here for as long as they use scraps of paper that people value. And I will be in these cycles for the rest of my life.
It's like a mother locked in a glass cabinet. Giving seductive glances to customer after customer who stops by here. Hopefully he'll bring in the money and take her virginity back. At that time, mother must have been in the old room. Rotten zinc roof The floor was stained with mundane stains. Spreading herself on an old bed and using her body to please a young customer.
My mother's career probably didn't make me so sad. If the customer wasn't a man her own age who had sex with her and put the burden on her to take care of the twins that were born. which is me and my brother The two of us are like cancer. No, we were just created to be cancer. The fate of the tumor and its owner is poverty in the slums.
Since I was a child, the three mothers and daughters had to live in terrible living conditions. The events that happened around us, including hijackings, assassinations, and rapes, made us frightened and numb at the same time. Honest work is so little that it is said to be a fool's livelihood. Or even illegal work like prostitution as well.
People in this neighborhood have changed from using money to guns in exchange for happiness. The income they earned had to be shared with influential people in the area or they would be killed. This probably shows the evil of this slum. But even more evil is the one who locked us up here and fled far away.
All this time, Mom tried to make an appointment to meet with Dad, hoping that Dad would offer it to Mom like twenty years ago. But deeper than that, Mother probably wanted Father to come back and share the joy and suffering together again. It is impossible for a selfish person to waste time cleaning the wounds he cut. He never knew how painful and painful it was when tears fell on wounds that had not healed yet. Never.
As the wound became deeper and deeper beyond repair, my twin brother Pat entered the drug business. He started by selling heroin to children in the community by leaving his house at night and leaving the heroin at designated locations such as trees, electric poles, and building crevices, along with picking up the money that was placed in those locations.
One night, Pat would earn about a few thousand baht. After deducting from the influential people, there were only a thousand pieces left, which was enough to cover our living expenses.
But later, Pat was betrayed by the big man by having him hooked and stuffed into the mouth of a local police officer. He had to escape from the ghetto and later died. My mother and I lived in a degenerate community that was half dead.
This was the first time the river had tears in its eyes. Mother's tears never fade like sea water that soaks into grains of sand and never fades away. Mother swallowed the pain and let it out with clear water in her sharp eyes. I believe that my father saw my mother as nothing more than a dead object. Father used money to blow his head, created a burden, and left mother in a crevice that morality would never reach.
Later, when Father learned about Pat's news from Mother, he sent a letter back and it was probably the only letter that Father would take the time to write and send. Inside the letter, Father cited all kinds of reasons for not being able to take care of us. One of the reasons for his desperation was that his father had to take care of hundreds of rice fields that were left unplanted. And in closing, he said that his father never made the soil loose. Dad just held the plow.
It is the buffalo that tills the soil. I hate this kind of thought so much that I told my mother that I would ask my father if he ever shook his hand when he wrote.
Due to severe poverty, I decided to leave to work for a company in the city and send money to support my mother every month. I know how terrible it is to leave my mother alone. And I wouldn't step out if prostitution was still a bad enough profession.
When he became an employee of a company selling baking flour I had to huddle with piles of documents. Waiting to arrange the product receiving system, which is a job that uses only addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. So the income is not much. But it was probably the only job that a slum kid like me could handle.
At first, I was tired of waking up at dawn to check raw materials entering the factory before recording them. This kind of work is probably no different from chasing the stars in the sky. Even though I know in my heart that I ran away from the worst to find the light But the light was so low that it was impossible to be sure whether it actually existed or not.
Today is the same. I had to wake up early to get the ingredients. But today is a different day. The owner of the raw material factory came to see the work in person. He is a middle-aged man. Symmetrical figure, slender face, modest beard. The eyes are calm and deep within. The first moment my eyes met, I felt a warm, gentle feeling.
And it's unbelievably soft. My heart was pounding as if the gloomy world slowly turned slower and slower until it almost disappeared. The man looked at me with the same look in his eyes until the two of us almost became one.
Since then, “Sib”, the owner of the raw material factory, has taken me to live in a luxury condominium in the heart of Bangkok as his lover. This is the love I've wanted all my life. A love that was completely different from his father's carelessness.
Pee Sib took care of me from pick up and drop off. In-depth teaching Or put even small things The routine that he took me to do before going to work was to make merit and give alms to monks. Phi Sib said that making merit in the morning will brighten your mind throughout the day. and make us forget the bad memories of yesterday
I never knew how valuable pure love is. To the slum community, love is only a trap for the clever. It is no more profound or meaningful than food that is medicinal.
I tried to learn the definition of love from him. And the more I learned, the more he made me understand my own definition of love. The two of us understand each other's every feeling like a mirror that reflects memories of images with images of memories. And then the inner senses make our bodies one.
That night, Phi Sib turned on the dim orange neon lights. Take off his shirt Then I lay down on the bed. Our bodies are naked like our bond that no longer has a protective covering. He slowly caressed it. Every touch made me feel hot and tremble, even though I was a bit frightened. After that, everything was like a spell that left an unforgettable night on me.
The next morning, Brother Sib took me to make merit like every day. As I closed my eyes to pray, I saw the images of the previous night still clear in my mind. As I closed my eyes, he turned and whispered that today the two of us were not only making merit for merit. But we did it to make the path of our relationship smoother. I understand that. It was very different from my father's actions.
Soon, I became a full-fledged mother when I found out I was pregnant for a while. My tears flowed again in joy. I don't know how precious it is for other people to have children. But for fatherless slum children, children are like witnesses of love that completely washes away the impurities in their hearts.
A tingling sensation traveled through his chest before penetrating his heart. and spread out into a full smile
But P'Sib didn't seem too happy and even asked to go out of the country for a few days. At that moment, the joy on my face began to disappear, hesitation, bewilderment, and many other feelings appeared. I tried to collect myself and pay attention to the questions that popped into my head. before answering in a calm voice, “Yes.”
Feeling lonely and helpless, I continued to stalk Brother Sib. including viewing CCTV cameras to predict the route Then take a taxi to follow. To hope that my baby and I would be enlightened if the child's father was destroying his heart in cold blood.
Finally, I found Brother Sib standing and talking to a woman who had her back turned to me. Elder Ten looked quite agitated and worried. I tried to think positively that maybe he just wasn't ready to raise a child yet. Or maybe he came to talk to someone about work. Or maybe they're talking about important business. Or is it really that Brother Sib secretly has someone else?
While I was confused by the image in front of me The woman turned her head with a smile that I was very familiar with. That woman is "Mother".
“Rada, come say hello to Dad.” Mom smiled widely. “Didn't you tell Mom that you were going to ask Dad about the letter?”
The question about the letter is that Father never made the soil loose. Dad just held the plow. Is it the buffalo who tills the soil? It's not necessary. I understand everything
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