It’s not SAFE!

The dogs were barking, and I’d been ignoring them because I thought they were barking at the monitor lizard which has been coming by our place daily. They kept barking and barking, and when I went down to cook mee for lunch, it was then I realised there were a couple guys stading beneath the garage roof near Night. They heard my pot on the stove, so they called out a “oi” or something to that effect and I peered around the safety grill to see them.

You have no idea how that freaked me out. The safely grills to the doors of the house were locked so I wasn’t too scared. But what had made me raise an eyebrow were the fact that these guys were carrying long sticks. And they weren’t afraid of the dogs, obviously. Being Chinese, unlike most Muslim people who’d been trained since young to be afraid and have an unreasonable hatred towards canines, they knew that despite their loud barks dogs could be just as scared of you as you could be of them.

So one of them was just standing there, totally unalarmed that Night was barking at them just a foot away. Night was chained, of course, and very wary of the stick which the guy kept stamping on the ground. He asked if my dad was home, and I said no. They’d been staring at my brother’s car. Hell. So they asked for my dad’s number and I went and gave it to them. And the man thanked me and left. They didn’t look like hoodlums; they looked like decent people, but the fact that they came armed with sticks–long thin sticks they might be, but they were the length of a bat and you could swing that easily, you know?–was rather alarming.

They’re probably guys whom my dad owes money. Hell. We’d have people like them visiting so much over the past year and they’d stopped coming towards the end of the year; the phone calls now and then never stopped, but I’d at least felt safe in my home again, you know? I’d stopped feeling as terrified as I had back then then when the dogs would bark when a car came in. Actually, I’m still scared,  I guess when the dogs bark. I usually very reluctanctly go out to see why. It was why when on my birthday last year, the guys came to surprise me with a cake, they had to call me to get me to open to door, as no one had ventured out to see why the dogs had been barking like mad at their arrival. -_-

I don’t think my dad or my mum really understands that this house is my sanctuary. It’s the only place I can turn to, the only place I can go to feel safe in. And when people like that turn up, it feels as if they’ve just invaded, and I feel attacked. It makes me insecure and I hate feeling scared in my own home. -_-

My mum is unable to understand why I freak out when I tell her to lock the bloody safety grill after she leaves for work. She tells me there’s people in the house (me, my brother and my dad), and I point out that we’re usually _sleeping_ until a good time after she’s been gone; which means that you can’t really say there’s anyone in the house! Not only does she leave the safety grill unlocked, though closed, she leaves the damn padlock on top of the washing machine by the grill where you can see it; and of course the kitchen door into the house itself is wide open as it usually is. I’d told her, anyone could easily walk by the dogs who are always chained, and come in the kitchen. If you had a bloody knife–or a stick like those two guys–you could walk into the house, open any of the bedroom doors and beat or kill anyone you liked. (I keep my room locked cos I sleep half naked, but no one else does.) And she ignores me.

Gods. The disadvantage of living in good ol’ Brunei where everyone feels so secure and safe because the crime rate is so low. My aunty herself had never understood why I get freaked out when she visits the neighbours and our safety grill’s not locked or even closed. -_- We might be a peaceful country, but there have been rapes, and there have been murders; and it’s not like our house is right on the street where everyone driving by can see what happenes; and we _have_ had all these angry people coming to the house to look for my dad! You’d think they’d be a bit more scared, being adults and all, and a lot more cautious! I’m not paranoid! I’m being realistic!

Hopefully when I talk to my mum again when she gets home from work, she’ll be aware of how easily it is for someone to come into the house. -_- Hell.

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And fuck, look, my dad just came in and I _didn’t_ hear the car; I didn’t even hear him open the safety grill and the the padlock on it. WTF. -_- And I don’t even have music on; I rarely do during the day because I have to keep an ear out for the dogs. I’m _awake_; who knows who might have come in when I’m asleep!

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But anyway, this was why I had not been online much the whole of last year, and why I’d been emotionally exhausted and just wanted to take a lot of time off to be by myself. I still am this way; and because of the lack of transport and financial stress as well, I don’t really look forward to going out and hanging out anywhere–especially if it’ll involve money. There are people who don’t mind spending money on food, no matter how broke they are, but I’ve never been one of those. I’d rather starve if I didn’t have enough money; and I feel bad going out and having people to pay for me.

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2 Responses to “It’s not SAFE!”

  1. Yenny

    Dearest, I’ve just been to your journal and, well, just wanna see this page as well. Hang in there, Seph. Things will get better, eventually.

  2. SephXIII

    Thanks Yen. ^_^

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