Recovered from the ordeal, I requested to leave Singapore. I couldn’t bear to live in a country with too much bad memories. Father was understandably upset.
“Stay,” he had said coldly while I stood like some errant schoolboy caught by the discipline master. I felt secretly rebellious and deeply angry that even my own father couldn’t understand me. Damn drakes and their arrogance. But by that default, I too was arrogant. We stood in his office. Suddenly all the furniture and lighting felt oppressive, pressing against me like some dark shadow.
“No, Father,” I spoke. “I am leaving.”