17, was the number of her age when she lost her flower to a Hispanic schoolmate. She did not dare to speak of this to anyone because she was not sure of how it happened, nor was she certain how to defind that date-(or)-rape.
Day after day, she only woke up with the drive to make up herself with the racoon eye to attract people's attention to her. She wanted to be different, the cool one, but she had scarce idea of how. She was never a diligent student, nor was she bright. She knew that because there was always somebody or something reminding her of her stupidity and unthoughtfulness.
"What the hack, with their poor English, mom and dad survived here. What've I got to worry about my survival?" She consoled herself.
As she headed out, she almost bumped into her brother, who was carrying the costly new electric guitar on his shoulder, walking toward her direction. She saw him and she scoffed. "Little punk is now into music," she murmured.
"Hey, can I sell off your skateboard? Need some cash here." She said.
"Sell yourself if you need money, bitch." He replied, raising his eyebrow after checking her out. "Aw, wait, second thought...my skateboard does sell much easier than you. I'll keep you posted 'bout my decision though."
She was totally hissed, but she was not witted enough to fire back at the moment.
She grabbed her empty duffel and rushed out for the bus. It was a fair weather day, but she was not too happy about the day. By now, everyone should be throwing their caps into the air, she thought. A taste of bitterness sprung in her throat, but she knew she did it to herself; maybe that's what she deserved. It was the commencement day, and already she was on her way to the mall to fill in a temp position. She turned eighteen early this spring. Aside from the party she had in Fleshn'Ash, the usual rendezvous she used to get together with someone of her age at school or out of school, she did not remember anything elso on her crossover day.
She wanted to be free, had her own space, so right after she dropped out, she collected some money from her mom and found an apartment near where she worked. She had no idea that the meagre wage she earned could not even cover her food expense and rent. Worst of all, she did not know how to live by making ends meet. For eighteen years, her room and her mess were taken care of, so living alone actually meant she had to maintain the integrity of the rental apartment, meaning that she could not trash the place like she did at home. Leaving with no choice, she was forced to move back home two months later.
"Well, it is just as well that I had the experience of living on my own." She said to herself.
When Jenny broke the news to her about being admitted to college, she was pretty jealous. She kept wondering, when did Jenny find time to cram up SAT, since they spent pretty much time together? Jenny was the only one in school that gave a damn about her, that talked to her, even though she's not really sincere or loyal many a time. They talked about fashion, pop music and boy problems. But that's all they talk about. Jenny was the pretty one, but it was her that caught more eyes. It's probably her makeup, she figured, or her cleavage? She did not really know, but anyway, her look got her the attention from time to time and she's got something to brag about. Deep down, she knew how she was so invisible to all her peers and how they have kept avoiding her, even by those she deemed as her "clan," the Asian chicks.
"They are just a whole bunch of nerds and sluts," she thought.
She recalled dad's growl last night when he learnt the fact that she's not getting out of school with a diploma. He flipped out and threw his shoe over toward her; but still, nothing this ignorant and errogant misogynist did could harm her or humiliate her. She found her repugnant. She despised him, head to toe, inside out. She hated him for so long that even mom has sided with her, and together they cursed him behind his back. No matter what happens, she thought, she's still got mom to clean up the mess after her. Just like that one time she was caught at the mall, she was in shock and in fears, not knowing what would happen to her. Will she be convicted, be indicted, leaving with a criminal record juvenile? Everything happened so fast. When she was taken to be fingerprinted and recorded and later photographed, with a booking number in front of the height chart before they tried to take her to the booking room, she burst into tears and wished she could undo things. That's when mom showed up, with two streams of tears flowing down her cheeks. That was probably the only time that she got really scared and felt sorry for herself and for mom.
After that, she was regarded as a wart in school, in the church service that she used to attend and at home. After that, her brother treated her like she's invisible. Everyone did. They all did.
After the shoplifting incident, old aunts and uncles and dad blamed her for disgracing the family, but really she did not feel a thing except the fright she once faced. As she was still detained in the police station, she feared she would be jailed and lose her freedom over such a peccadillo. Deep down, she knew she's not a felon material; all she wanted was being accepted and being treated like a equal; all she wanted was attention, some love and something she can find confidence in.
"You are not better than me, you little banana, you little creepy hypocrite!" She yelled at him once.
"Me what?" He's baffled, not sure of what he heard.
She enjoyed the moment she jeered at him, when she's got the power of saying of knowing something he did not know of.
"You little twerp, you thought you have more friends than me, you thought you are more popular than me and you thought you are well-received and recognized as an American?"
"I AM an American!"
"You thought you are one authentic American because you were born here, because you speak the language, you listen to hiphop, you play skateboard or have a band, and because all of your friends are with skin color, skin tone that are different from yours, because you have a fake blondie girl friend who's nothing but a white trash?" She snarled.
He was speechless. Anger creeped in his veins, surfaced on his colour, and soon he's turned rubescent all over, clutching both fists tightly as if he's trying to sqeeze blood out of them.
"Perhaps I can return to Taiwan, Joanna did mention how much she felt she's greeted with hospitality and appreciation there." She thought.
"They treated us like gold. The fact that you are an American born Taiwanese, that you speak English better than most of them had got them at the very first place." She remembered Joanna's boastful countenance.
"I can at least teach English right there and earn myself a pretty good life; I can party on with people's respect," she smirked, "and who knows, maybe I'll come across a rich prince with shining armor in no time and marry up."
She was convinced of her own complextion, her physical assets and her youth, in spite of the fact that she was once rebuffed and disagreed with by most seniors in the family.
"Silly, you'll be devoured alive in the man-eating society!"
"You are just a babe in the wood, silly, don't push yourself over the edge without acknowledging your own faults and shortcomings."
People kept telling her to quit the "suicidal attempt." It is Taipei she had fancying and weaving her dreams around at one time. "Maybe that time has come," she reassured herself. At least, she thought, at least no one knows anything about me here. It's a brand new start; I could be a blank canvas again. It's where I may move on, party on as a respectable American born Taiwanese, she believed.
With a loosely-packed luggage in which she threw most of her belongings carelessly, there she stepped onto another stage of her life. The rain was a total opposite of what she had back home and the sky was gloomy and cloudy as if a huge storm was right ahead; the greenish and grayish black clouds relapsing on top of one another refreshed her memory of how the sky looked before a tornado arrived. She preferred to stay optimistic to what's ahead of her and not to worry herself too much.
After all, she's young and pretty. She marched on, with a grin and a fragile sense of confidence and courage that came out of nowhere.