shots from the past

while i had a rather colourful childhood, there are some things i remember more vividly than others.

i remember standing outside in the rain because i was jealous of the attention my parents gave my brother.
i remember being locked in the store room.
i remember reluctantly taking up mental arithmetic class, only to learn that homework could be escaped through other means.
i remember being teased, and wanting to prove myself more than ever.
i remember arriving late to my Golden Kids News recognition and awards ceremony. flustered and excited, i got my cert from the receptionist who told me it was already over.

i was eleven.

high school was bittersweet.
the teachers hated me, and gladly shared their appalling stories of me to fire my parents' fury.
pity, they could never kick a student out of school when she was a statistic to good academic results.
i had nothing to prove; the combination of frustration and surprise on the teachers' faces was always sweet victory enough.
i loved the track, the volleyball court, the adrenaline rush, the spirit of the team, the determination to win, the roaring support.
i loved rebelling because i hated the rules, even if it spelt more trouble.
i hated going home.
i got used to punishments.
but i never got over the memories.

i was sixteen, but i felt older.

i cleaned out my old books today, two huge boxes worth of textbooks, revision papers and tuition notes. most i threw out, some i kept in my heart. it felt like i was cleaning up my system at the same time.

i swore never to relive the pain.
i swore never to speak of it again.
but the past hunts you down, reminding you why you are here today.

i wish i had the courage to look at it straight in the eye and say i have let go.

even when i havent.