D 11: Size Matters

Today, tell us about the home you lived in when you were twelve. For your twist, pay attention to — and vary — your sentence lengths.

A place and time where I dare not go. Martial Law.
Turning on the radio that morning I switch the tuner for that favorite station. Nothing. I centered the dial to get a good signal, but nothing. I settled on the local station, still nothing. All I get are static sounds. Let me try tomorrow, maybe tomorrow is my lucky day. The following day came, still no sound or signal except for the static sound. On the third day, the same static signal. The radio is broken.
Those three days I let go of radio listening. Nothing I can do. The radio has no sound. My mother complains everytime I listen to the radio, “too loud”, she’d say. I’m sure she was pleased for three days of silence. I wasn’t fond of watching TV, rather, I have no room, my brother owns the watching rights to the unending cartoon shows which i find loathsome. Once he squats in front of the TV he’ll find the company of my younger brothers and sisters, its me against them. Radio is my friend.
Then on the third day I heard some neighbors talking about Martial Law. The President has declared Martial Law, a curfew is imposed from 10:00 pm to 4:00 am, everybody should be inside the house during those hours, anyone caught will be put in jail. That’s when I figured out why there was no radio station because all communication lines including radio were cut off from air and that’s when i figured out those unending cartoons on tv making my brothers and sisters glued on TV.
We were living in a two story house with one toilet and bath, all of us nine including my parents plus a couple of cousins or aunts who comes to visit us once in a while. The third house that we moved into that year. My father, trying to find a suitable location for his business and that includes moving the entire family from one apartment to another, and also hoping to find cheaper places. I love the second floor of that house, two double deck, three single ones, the younger ones sleeps together because they are smaller. While I sleep by myself, I was third from the oldest. My parents had separate room downstairs. And because I have no chance of getting the front row in the TV room (we only had one) I stay upstairs. My bed is on the corner with bookshelf on my head. There I grew my reading habit. On the weekends after lunch everybody stays downstairs, my father sits in his big chair, my mother in hers.
One day my mother said we have to pack up, we were moving. Again? Again. This is the fourth house in a year. We never ask why. Children never complained. It won’t be that far, just around the corner. And it was very cheap. It was only a ground floor with two rooms. All of us children shared one room.


2 thoughts on “D 11: Size Matters

  1. Thank you for sharing your home and childhood experiences. I felt your alienation, frustration and disappointment. You didn’t have an easy life, but I can tell that you made the best of it. Your story is interesting, especially about the martial law, your family, your home, and the radio channels. Your writing is excellent. I wish you the very best in your life ahead.


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