stripped bare

They call it the Witching Hour.

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Mother : “Eh do you know what time it is? Where are you? Who are you with? What

time are you coming back?”


Me : “Soon.”

Mother : “doooo……….”



That’s my mum, in a good mood, at maybe 3.50am on a Sunday morning, calling my mobile to see if I’m still alive, while I’m out gallivanting with my mates, rotting at some 24hr coffee place. When she’s in a bad mood, it’s a shriller voice, lesser questions and a louder slam before the engaged tone. When I’m finally home, there’d be my mum, standing at my door, dressed in her white nightie, clutching her bolster like a weapon, hair like a squirrel danced through it, trying to stare at me through unfocused eyes. That’s her showing her displeasure at me. We have very good mother-daughter communication.



Quite guiltily, I’ve been going home late consecutively for 5 nights. Tonight would be the sixth. Usually it’s only during the weekends, but I can’t help it if I’m suddenly THE ‘Absolute Person To Hang Out With’ for the week right? If I could I’d rather hang out in the day, go home by 10, sleep before 11 and get rid of my dark eye rings. But how could I, when work ends at 6 for my friends, class sometimes end at 10 for me, clubs open at 11 and McD’s cafe is now 24hrs? And because we get home late, we sleep the entire morning away, crawl reluctantly out of bed after midday, and only start getting hyped up for the day by late afternoon. I bet you my last one-cent that if you checked our eyesights, we would have mysteriously developed excellent night-vision. That’s right. We’re becoming vampires, wolves, ghostly beings. We shun the light and embrace the darkness.



Digressing… So where was I? My dad keeps saying that I need to change my lifestyle. I understand why he’s concerned, because I don’t see my parents much anymore. While they sleep, I’m out taking drugs and drinking my life away (or so they think), and while I sleep, they’re doing the housework and playing Happy Family.



Really, I don’t know what it is about the night that beckons so. There’s just something about it that makes us want to discard our inhibitations, leave our burdens by the door and just, hang out. I know my parents would never see my point. After all, when they were our age, I doubt they had midnight shows or 24hr cafes. And whatever fashionable music at that time, is retro to us now.

Written by smudgi3

July 31, 2004, Saturday at 14:27

Posted in Insight

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