“Honey, why doesn’t this door lock?” Father questioned while arching his eyebrows. Mother frowned as she checked the bathroom lock.
“Son, why is the door faulty?” Mother said as she narrowed her eyes at me.
“I… I… I do not know. But I could have jammed it while you all were away for your Bali vacation.” I stuttered whilst wiping the pearly beads of sweat from my glistening forehead.
Father growled, “I think not boy! Something is fishy about this. Why does my gut feeling tell me maybe someone you had invited over broke the door? I wonder how could that person be so careless to order 12 boxes of pizza, eat up 8 of my best cuts of beef and leave 15 beer bottles in the trash can?”
Like a prowling lion circling his terrified prey, Father snarled and started pacing towards me, with a belt in hand. I trembled violently and desperately tried to recall.
15th of November. That awaited date. It was the date which my parents and I were eagerly anticipating. 15th of November. The day my parents were leaving for a week-long Bali vacation.15th of November. The day where I would have the entire house to myself. 15th of November. The day which I would have a whole week worth of partying. 15th of November. The night where sleep would be nonexistent. I was like a child awaiting Christmas, full of life, hope and anticipation. The very week before the party, I sent out countless invitations – to my primary school friends, secondary school friends and even tuition mates – inviting them to my very first house party. Preparations were underway, makeshift beds were ready, a big-budget was made.
What could possibly go wrong?
Soon after, the much-anticipated date arrived. Upon bidding my parents adieu and safe trip, I called my buddies and gave them the all-clear sign. Moments later, the bunch arrived and we started setting up for the big night ahead. Stereos and sleeping arrangements were organised, dinner was ordered, the Playstation was online.
Jason, my best friend, screamed, “Let the game begin!”
The snacks were displayed, filling up four tables, giving us a plethora to pick from. Drinks Were like free-flow, never-ending nor ceasing. To be honest, the first three days passed us by like a breeze. It was only on the fourth day did I finally understand the bitter truth behind the phrase, “Time flies when you are having fun”.
The fifth day was the day in which we finally got hold of our immature drunken selves and realised that we were wasted away. Scanning the room, I gaped in horror at the horrendous sight before me. Honestly, I was petrified. Before my eyes was a wasteland, an aftermath of a drunken food fight coupled with a dumping ground. Pizza slices were stuck to the ceiling, boxes of uneaten food and beverages were completely infested with insects. Liquor spilt all over the sofa, fabric on the upholstery was shredded, as though a drunken murderer was going on a rampage.
Shrieking in horror and in disbelief, I screamed, “Stop! Stop it right now!”
Shocked at my crazed tone, my friends complied and slowly but surely, took in the putrid and disgusting sight before them. All they tried to comprehend what had happened to my once pristine and spotless living room. I instantly barked out orders for them to straighten and clean up the room. However, when I struggled to open my parched lips, I belched out a repulsive stench. It smelt as though something had crawled up into my mouth and died in it. I was mortified. Nevertheless, I braved my own stinking breath and continued giving out orders and slowly restored the room to its former glory.
“Time waits for no one.” That was the very phrase which spurred me on to get the house cleaned. It was better for me to get the house in order earlier than to wait for the very last hour. My friends and I were like ants on the run. We were as frantic as could be, rapidly scuttering around, trying to clear the mess as quickly as possible. We rushed to repair all the damage done to the house and cleared the house of all the garbage.
Time was our predator, its gnashing jaws were repetitively pounding, “Tick Tock, Tick Tock” into our ears. Adrenaline rushed in. Our hearts were throbbing non-stop. Furtive glances were constantly made towards the driveway. My parents had an uncanny obsession with turning up early for everything.
“God forbid that they return a day earlier”, I murmured.
Thankfully, we got the job done. Muscles aching, tongues out and panting, shivering away, we were like dogs after a fierce race. Our breathing was laborious. We squeezed the eyes shut, then opened them wide in an effort to stay awake, as we toppled down to the ground in exhaustion. We were safe.
Or so I thought…
Tossed back to the cruel reality, I blinked and shrieked,” Wait! Wait! I… I… I can explain!” Words started pouring out from my mouth in a torrential flow. Seeing the disappointed look in my parents’ eyes terrified me and I did not dare to fathom what my punishment would be like. The mere thought of it made me tremble and shake like a leaf in a hurricane.
“Why? Why did you disobey us? Why can’t we trust you?” Mother questioned softly.
It broke my heart upon hearing those soft but heart-wrenching words. I had abused my trust my parents had for me, tossed it away for nothing and disregarded all their love for me. At that moment, I finally realised. Was that act of wilful disobedience worth the hurt and disappointed look on both my parents? It was not the words that hurt me the most, but it was Mother’s soft and teary expression which shattered me. Hands falling to the side, and tears welling up in my eyes, I let out a mournful and soul-wrenching sob, “I’m sorry”.
Shaking her head softly, Mother stood up and left the room.
Breathing in heavily, Father whispered, “We forgive you, Jason. Your mother and I think highly of you and you can still regain our trust. I am sure that you can prove to us that you can be trusted. Don’t just do it for me, do it for your Mother. She believes in you too.”
Holding back hot tears and sniffling rapidly, I whispered, “I won’t let you two down again.”
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