I opened the door of my parent’s room, and before I got inside, I already felt the tension, sadness and pain that lingered inside the room. The bed is clean and well covered, the smell of mama’s perfume with the smell of the brandy that she is drinking every night. Mixed, that filled the whole room. I went inside and sat in the bed covered with a purple velvet bedsheet. I roamed my eyes and realised how big the room was. With air-conditioning, a flat-screen that is almost bigger than the wall, polished floor and big cabinets. I realised that we almost had everything. The house, cars, and wealth are supposed to make us happy. But it is just material things because no matter how rich we are. Still, we are not complete, daddy is not content, mama is not happy, and I don’t feel love. Things are just things. I can still hear my mother’s cry every time she lies on this bed without her husband lying next to him. The pain that she is dealing with everyday, th
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