She was one of the blackest African American I had ever seen; and her round, shining eyes that were glittering as glass beads, moved with quick and restless glances over everything in the room. Her woolly hair was braided in sundry little tails, which stuck out in every direction. The expression of her face was an odd mixture of shrewdness and cunning, over which was oddly drawn, like a kind of veil, an expression of the most doleful gravity and solemnity. She was dressed in a filthy garment, an
She was one of the blackest African American I had ever seen; and her round, shining eyes that were glittering as glass beads, moved with quick and restless glances over everything in the room. Her woolly hair was braided in sundry little tails, which stuck out in every direction. The expression of her face was an odd mixture of shrewdness and cunning, over which was oddly drawn, like a kind of veil, an expression of the most doleful gravity and solemnity. She was dressed in a filthy garment, and she stood with her hands demurely folded before her. She was a replica of her mother; she had got her shrewdness and her appearance. Her mother, Auntie Afifah, just shoved her into my house right after I answered the door while I was on the finishing touches of my 5000 word essay, and scurried hastily off without even telling me anything. Before she called not soon after, I had already expected that there was no one else to babysit her little pain in the ass for her mahjong game. She was renowned for her impish achievements and so far, I was the only one left not babysitted her before. Her roguish smile gave me shivers down my spine.
She could not be that awful, and hence, I wanted to leave a good impression to her by being nice in the first place. Consequently, I reached out to my candy container and with the sweetest smile I could ever get, I passed her a lollipop. What changed my mind was she actually smacked my hand causing the lollipop flew out of my hand, followed by a reluctant, cold stare. I gave her a pretentious smile even though how much I felt like smacking her on the face but all thanks to my parents’ good upbringing, I did not do that. I then decided to show her round the house.
“This is the living room, you can watch the television, play the computer but BUT…!” before I could finish my sentence, something caught the corner of my eye as I pointed to her direction, trying to run over to stop her.
Her black, glassy eyes glittered with a kind of wicked drollery, and suddenly she struck up a shrill voice and an odd melody, to which she kept time with her hands and feet, spinning round in a wild sort of time. What shocked me was she gave a prolonged closing note and in addition to it, she turned a somersault or two in which broke my mother’s darling limited crystal collections. It was all too late.
“…PLEASE do not! Touch ANY fragile stuff in the house…” I clenched my fist as I finished my sentence with an unyielding tone. I would be so toasted when my mother come home form work.
“Whoop-sieeeeeee…” She dragged the word with no sense of sincerity at all as she came down on the carpet, and jumping around with the most sanctimonious expression of satisfaction written all over her face.
“It’s okay. Please, please sit over there and watch the television?” I pleaded.
What a horrible brat an eight-years-old could be, I had been the nicest little shy girl you would have ever met when I was at that age. I seriously did not dare to have the thought to think of what might happen next. Looking at her, afraid of what she might do next, as I cleaned up the mess before continued on my essay.
“I want to EAT!!!!!” she roared as she stormed out of the sofa.
“I only have biscuits, want some?” I replied as politely as possible.
“I DON’T WANT BISCUITS! I WANT NOODLES, I WANT NOODLES, I WANT NOODLES..!” she protested and begun blaring the same words again and again, “I WANT EGGS, I WANT SAUSAGE, I WANT…” she listed out the ingredients and chanting them in that deafening, dreadful singing of hers.
Beginning to get on my nerves, I had no other choice but to cook for her. She kept on chanting those words and it kept ranging inside my ears as I was cooking.
“COULD YOU PLEASE LOWER DOWN YOUR VOLUME?” I burst out as I was really irritated. “You can draw with those crayons and paper in the drawer,” I said in the most polite manner I can ever do.
The entire house became silent. I was taken aback by her quietness but I chose to ignore as I would finally have peace after all.
Just as I was serving the noodles to her, I saw her drawing and cutting my essay! I had been preparing the essay since this morning which took me three long hours before I finally reached to the end. Forgetting that I am holding two bowls of noodles on a tray, I instantly dropped them and rushed to my essay.
I picked up the little bits and pieces that had dropped onto the floor, gripped them with my hands and spread them out, groaning. It was time to fight fire with fire.
“YOU THIS LITTLE BRAT! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THEM TILL THIS FAR? AND YOU TOOK THEM FOR DRAWING PAPER? SO WHAT YOU ARE FROM AMERICA, YOU ARE NOW IN SINGAPORE. IT IS DIFFERENT. YOU ILL-MANNERED LITTLE CREATURE!” I pointed at her ferociously as I screamed at the top of my lungs right into her face, also swallowing my tears back.
She was astounded by my sudden scolding and begun weeping.
“SHUT UP, JUST SHUT UP!” I screamed.
“Sorry.., I… didn’t mean to… No one has ever… treated me so… nice before… And I wanted… to make you… a card in… return…” she sobbed.
I stared blankly at her, really taken aback. Had I jumped my conclusions too quickly? Had I just scolded her just too harshly? I bent forward, gave her a hug and stroked her hair to calm her down.
“Have I frightened you?” I asked guiltily. All she wanted was someone to be nice to her, giving her their utmost attention and care, and I had actually chided her for something she did not mean to do. I felt so bad.
She shook her head and gave me a smile. This time it was a big and sincere one and I returned her a heartfelt smile back. We had fun after that and really got a chance to know each other once again.