Time

“It’s the fourth time you’re late again in this month! You may stand at the corridor, your favourite spot.” These words lingered in my mind as I was standing at the corridor feeling humiliated. A group of girls giggled at me when they were heading towards the science laboratory. My face turned apple-red almost immediately.

I then sneaked out of my school and went to a popular spot for spoilt children – the cyber cafe. I knew it was not right to do so, but I just could not stand being looked down by others. Even though Mum would not be glad for my immature actions, I still did it for my pleasure.

The moment I stepped into my house, Mum was there, standing in front of me and her eyes were blazing. She stared sharply at me and then started to nag. “Didn’t I warn you not to play truant again? Why can’t you just obey my simple order? You really disappoint me! Do you think your late father would be happy seeing you behaving like a wild child?” she raised her voice as her tears welled up in her eyes. I could tell that she was really mad at me. “No dinner for you tonight!” her nostrils flared. “Her nostrils are as big as my contact lenses,” I thought and then, sniggered. She stormed out of the house, tears trickling down her rosy cheeks.

I did not feel sorry at all. Maybe it was because I did not feel that I was wrong. The next day, I was late again. Anyway, I did not give a tinker of being time conscious though. “I have plenty of time in my whole life,” I thought. This time, it was different. Instead of going to school, I chose to go to the pub where some of my friends were already there waiting for me. I only took fizzy drinks and not beer or liquor because I would throw-up and feel uncomfortable after drinking it. Some of my friends who were not drunk invited me for an illegal motorcycle racing which was considered ‘legal’ to us. I accepted the challenge. Ken, Albert and I prepared ourselves and started the race soon after. As usual, I turned out last.

My old, faithful, digital watch showed 10 o’clock sharp. I sneaked into school through the hole in the fence behind the school and studied as usual. I had done this for several times and was never caught even once. Most probably it was because my presence was not felt and the same goes to my absence. “Kring…!” the long-awaited school bell rang, indicating the end of school session. Everyone darted towards the main gate and went home in split seconds. I had always questioned myself what was so great about ‘home’. Until now, it still remained a question.

“Nexter! Follow me to the office, please,” the familiar, low, husky voice came from behind. It was the principal. I could tell that something fishy was going on from his tone and it would not be a good one. “Did he know what I had done this morning? Will I be punished? Will I be humiliated again? Or will I be sleeping with the criminals behind the bars?” thousands of questions flooded my poor little brain. My pace began to slow down. I turned around and ran out of the school compound as fast as my legs could carry me. I managed to grasp some of the principal’s massage when I was trying to flee away. But it was unclear. All I heard was ‘don’t run away’ and the word ‘mum’. I did not have any idea about what he was trying to tell but at that spur of the moment, I just knew that I had to run away from him.

Upon reaching my house, I kept on figuring out what my principal had wanted to tell me about Mum. She came to school to check on me? I hope not. As I was in deep thoughts, I saw a group of people surrounding something. An accident had occurred. I had a glimpse to see who the not-so-fortunate one was. I did not put on my contact lenses on that day, so all I could see was a lady which was hit by a car when she was heading to her son’s school. “Poor lady. She might have wanted to check on her son,” the thought came across my mind. I turned away and continued walking. My heart then skipped a beat. My intuition told me that something was not right. I turned around and peered at the victim, trying hard to identify her as her body was covered with blood. It was her! Mum! “No!” I cried out hysterically. I threw my body towards Mum and hugged her closely. I sank my head in her tummy like what I did ten years ago. Beside her was a packet of my favourite spaghetti made by Mum. There was a note written, “Son, here’s your favourite spaghetti. Sorry for not letting you have dinner last night. I have bought you a Swatch watch that you’ve always wanted. Please be more time conscious next time. Come back earlier today. We’ll have lunch at home. Love, Mum.” Emotions that had long bottled up in me gushed out in a sea of tears.

She was rushed to the ICU. After a long wait, the doctor came out and reported in a sombre tone, “Your mum is in a stable condition.” I sighed, feeling much relieved. “But we are unable to save her legs anymore. Both her legs have to be amputated. I’m sorry.” he continued. I remained silence. My heart thudded heavily. I was still in a state of shock.

Since then, I had turned over a new leaf. I took care of Mum full of patience and I loved her as much as she loved me. I was also the top student in my school. Mum was very proud to have a child like me. But life was not perfect to me. Time. How wonderful it is if it could be rewound.