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A writer for CLM Magazine and CLM Social Pages, Achelle is also an independent blogger, giving her two cents on personal and social issues from an educated Filipina's point of view, especially those relating to love and relationships. She has a knack for tackling issues from unique angles that are often left unexplored, posing questions that move and challenge readers to view a certain issue from a wholly different perspective. Achelle is happily engaged to her childhood sweetheart and is currently based in the Philippines. Achelle's writing is a delight to read and highly enlightening, entertaining and thought provoking. You're going to see lots of her on our Emagazine, Blogs, Social Pages and Hubs. Enjoy
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Childhood Scars    

By Achelle Vinzon
1847 Views | 3 Comments | 4/25/2014 2:56:16 PM

Asian and Chinese women can also carry a lot of scars from being abused in their past. This possibility should never be ignored when sometimes a woman's behaviour seems beyond explanation, regardless of her ethnicity.

“Just start writing.  Anything,” she thinks to herself.  And that’s how it starts. 



“Mom!” 



“Yes?”



“Can you make me a sandwich?”



“Alright, sweetie.”  She pauses.  “I told you to start calling me ‘Mother.’”



“Okay, Mother!”



Ten minutes later, she sits back down in front of her computer.  “Where was I?” she mumbles to herself. 



The maid got distracted and Dawn slipped out of the bathroom where she and her two siblings were supposed to stay.  As she passed the dining room, the screams grew louder.  She wanted to see what was going on.  The noise was coming from the front door.  She passed the living room and she recognized her parents’ voices.  They were fighting again.  She walked quietly towards the screaming voice and found her mama standing in front of the closed door.  Her mama had her back to her while she screamed at her papa, who was outside, to go away.  Dawn just stood there.  Then the door’s glass pane was broken and Dawn screamed.  Her mother turned and saw Dawn’s head was bleeding, a small piece of glass was sticking out of the side of her head.  One minute she was inside the house and the next her mother was running outside, carrying her in her arms.



Aurora goes inside her mom’s bedroom to say good night.  “I’m sleepy, Mother, you can tuck me in now.”  “You go ahead, baby, I’ll be right there in a minute.”



She pushes her chair back and sighs, “That wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” she says to herself.  She follows Aurora.  “Did you brush your teeth?”  “Yes, Mom.” 



“Mother,” she reminds Aurora.  “Yes, Mother.”  She fixes the blanket, sits down on the side of the bed, and brushes back the hair on Aurora’s forehead.  “Good night.  Love you.”  She gives her a light kiss on the forehead.  “Good night, Mother.  Love you too.”  She gets up and turns off the light.  She smiles at Aurora before she closes the door.  She walks back into her room and thinks if maybe she should call it a night.  “A few more paragraphs, perhaps,” she thinks aloud. 



The second floor space right above their grandmother’s house was much smaller but her papa fixed it up nicely.  She especially liked the new windows.  Windows lined the entire front side of their new home.  Dawn always loved windows.  Especially during windy days.  And also during the very early hours of dawn, when everybody’s still fast asleep, maybe even dreaming.  She always enjoyed waking up before everybody else; then she’d just sit beside a window, relishing the quiet and the stillness all around her, breathing in the cool air.  Dawn was her favorite time of day. 



In the late afternoons, after coming home from school, she would sit on her spot beside a window with a book and just read.  Sometimes she’d gaze out to watch the people out on the street.  And then her cousins, who lived in the house next door, would call her and tell her to come down to play with them.  Some of Dawn’s fondest memories of that neighborhood was of those fun times when she played with her brother, sister, and cousins out on the street. 



Some of Dawn’s worst memories were also made in their new home. 



The fights were a constant in her life.  Maybe that’s why she found so much joy in books and in being alone.  They were her escape.  Even at a young age, she already knew that her mama’s verbal attacks on her papa often went too far.  She insulted him in the worst and most hurtful ways possible, wounded his ego, made him feel small.  It often crossed her mind that her mama deserved the fists to the face and arms that her papa retaliated with. 



But she also wondered if, perhaps, her papa only got what he asked for.  It was the proverbial question of which came first, the chicken or the egg?



Dawn was ten when her mama walked out on them.  She left her a letter, explaining why, asking her to understand, telling her to look after her younger siblings.  Dawn understood her mama’s motivation; it was an unhappy marriage, to say the least, and she always knew that her mama never fit in with her papa’s family, and moving closer to them only made her even more miserable.  Her mama wanted the beatings to stop.



But Dawn couldn’t find it in her heart and mind to understand how a mother could leave behind her three children. 



“That’s as far as I can go… for now.”  She reads the story – her story – again and sighs heavily.  “This is more difficult than I expected.” 



Tomorrow.  She’ll revive the memories again tomorrow.   


Copyright owned jointly by Author and CyberCupid Co., Ltd. Breach of copyright will be prosecuted.
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(Showing 1 to 3 of 3) 1
#2014-04-25 14:55:22 by JohnAbbot @JohnAbbot

If you want to read something that may cause a burning anger, or a lump in your throat, or maybe a painful memory, then read this very touching blog by Achelle.

Achelle, your writing is really amazing, but once again you've got me afraid to read on.

#2014-04-25 20:35:29 by zhangxiujin @zhangxiujin

I am here waiting for the next chapter, with a lump in my throat!!
Achelle, you are amazing!!

#2014-04-26 10:30:38 by Barry1 @Barry1

@AchelleVinzon
@JohnAbbot

"If you want to read something that may cause..... a painful memory"

Yes, you're right, John.

This introspective piece by Achelle did revive a poignant childhood memory of mine.

I was about eight years old and my parents were having a huge argument. There was no physical violence involved, just a lot of screaming and shouting. Suddenly my father pushed my mother out the front door and locked it.

My mother started screaming and shouting even more, banging on the door, with myself and my two young siblings cowering in the kitchen. A tremendous crash then occurred, as my mother threw a rock through one of the windows, shattering glass everywhere. This was reminiscent of Achelle's words above, where she described,

"Then the door’s glass pane was broken and Dawn screamed..."

My parents eventually divorced when I was 13, following a long history of very unpleasant verbal fights between them, all in front of three young children, who ended up staying with their dad, rather than their mother. Another interesting parallel to Achelle's story.

Sometimes reviving harrowing memories such as these acts as an emancipation or liberation of small yet profound insidious recollections from the past. Yet other times, such painful thoughts are best left to eternally wither undisturbed within the dark confines of our consciousness, hopefully never to be revived again.

In any case Achelle, thank you for the reflective and quite evocative assemblage of flashbacks and reminiscences, albeit they don't seem to be autobiographical per se, but rather biographical or perhaps even fictional, if I am correct? It's too early to be definitive here one way or the other, as it's unclear to a stranger such as me whether Dawn or Aurora are actual family members, friends or relatives of yours?

John's right - you're indeed a fine writer, thank you, Achelle. (y)

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