theft.

It’s never been so scary. I’ve been shaking for hours, trying to figure out exactly what happened, and how it happened and why. Even while writing this, I’m shaking all over. Tears welled up in my throat. I feel like crying but I don’t want mom to worry. I reacted fast enough, but not fast enough to stop him completely. I need a shoulder to cry on, someone to hug - anything.

It was raining. I was in the car, and I saw him walking towards the car. I did. I just didn’t think he’d punch the window and grab my mom’s bag. Even then, I keep thinking, if I pulled hard enough, I would have stopped him from taking the bag altogether. I was just so stoned at that time. And it was like every ounce of my energy had just left me. I did run after him. But my mom stopped me before I could grab him, that I nearly did. All I remember is that he was Malay, thin, black jacket, orange shirt, messy hair.

Everything is my fault. If I had just pulled the bag with as much energy as I slap people. If I just could remember more about the guy’s face. If I had just been able to react quicker and taken the bag even before he grabbed it. I know yes, there’s the possibility he might hit me with the same thing he used to bash the window. But I could have tried. I could have.

It’s times like these where I just thank God my mom is safe. I’m so grateful. I’m just so thankful for all the friends I have too. Even those I’ve just made. They’ve been such a big help, and I’d never known what would’ve happened if I didn’t meet them. I don’t want to think about it at all. I just don’t. Thanks Chung Wye. :)

I’m sorry mom. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it from happening.

I keep telling everyone I’m alright. But after today, can I really be alright?