Can I have a Better Life than this?

Hi, I have a confession to make, a story to tell. And I know many of you can relate and can feel the same about what I’m about to say. I`m a kid from the Philippines where life is not so good and not so bad, where dreams stays a dream until it falls to ground and shatter, a place for strong and wise, a country that is govern by murderers and robbers, a place where parent is an obstacle and place where every one is judged based on the same intelligence.

Chapter 1

My Story begins

My story begins like any other story. I was 7 years old and living with my parents, we are one of the families that are not poor and at the same time, we are not rich, middle class is what it`s called, I think. My father works as a service crew at a hotel not so far from where we live and my mother is a house wife. My father is one of those fathers that look at his son like a redemtion. He think I can do what he did not accomplish, he is a perfectionist even he is not perfect himself and he always wanted me to at the top of everything. My father always pushes me to study everyday even it is a holiday or vacation. Every morning before he left for work, he will call me and said “I want you to write words and master its spelling”. Its not just 5 or 10 words I`m making every day, I make hundreds just to impress him. But it does not work at all. He will just look at the paper and said “You will repeat all of these tomorrow”. But since then Im not so good at studying, I am an artist type as a child, I like to draw and write stories and poems.

As a child, I never experienced playing outside with other kids or even go to the park. I only stayed at home while he forces me to study. My mother is nothing alike my father, but he can`t refuse on my father’s ordains, she was too afraid to stand up for her self.

Bullied

Years past and now I`m on the 4th grade, I was bullied everyday because of my father. May father is now the janitor of our school. My classmates have always teased me like “ hey I just spill my drink, want to clean it?” or “can you call your father to clean it”. I lived almost my whole 4th to sixth grade experiencing those mocks.

One day after the first grading. I saw my name on the list, I`m one of the honor students, Im at the third place. I was so excited to tell my father about it, because it is what he always wanted for me, to be one of the best, to be one of the top. As I saw the list, I immediately called my father cleaning in the near-by room. My father walk towards me while Im standing near the board where the list is placed. I told him "See Im on the list, I`m one of the honor students”. His face did not change a bit, it is still blank with no reaction at all and he said “It is not enough, you must be the first” and he walk away. After he walk away, my tears started to fall and I realized that I will never try to impress him again.

That time and moment about what my father said to me remains in the back of my head. As long as I think about it the more I gain doubts to my self. What if I`m not good enough? What if Im a failure? What if I cant be the best. Every time I remember those moment the tears will start to drop and I found my self crying while Im pounding my head against the drawer door until it hurts.

I will never forget that day, the day that my dreams fell, the day that I felt the true pain. I wish I could just die or disappear. I wish that I was never been born but instead I`m alive experiencing all of this.

The Envy

As days past, my hot-headed and short-tempered father never stopped hitting me during the times I do not meet his standards or expectations. I see our family slowly falling, I hate to go home anymore, and I never wanted to see his face again.

I see other family happy and wealthy. One of my classmates is always bragging about how good his father is, he said , his father is always encouraging him in every things he want to do, like keep a pet or play outside with his other friends. And he showed me a picture of him sitting in his father`s lap.

I always wanted to have a good family, but every time I think about, it will be ruined every time my father shows up. Back then my hate and anger towards my father grew and grew each day. Almost every day, I cried and thought about how can I change my life, and waiting for myself to disappear. I wonder do other kids experience these things or its just me?

Thank you for your time, I hope you like my story.