“Emily! How many times have I told you not to waste water?” my mother snapped.

“But…but..I…am……” I stopped in mid-sentence and burst out crying.

Mother’s expression softened and she walked into the kitchen.

“Emily,”she said in a soothing voice, “I’m not reprimanding you, I’m just telling you not to leave the tap water running when you are washing the dishes. That way, you can help me reduce the utility bills, you know?”

I wiped away my tears and continued washing the dishes with the minimum amount of water possible. No one had ever told me that the utility bills could go sky high if I washed dishes like that. In fact, up to half a year ago I did not even have to dirty my hands except for meal times. However, now I had to do this? I could not believe it. When was Father ever going to come back? I finished the dishes and crept back to bed.

I shut my diary immediately. That incident was over. This was not what a person should have for memories. They were bad memories. As I read what I had recorded of that day, I could taste the salt of tears on my lips. It had been eight years since my father left. I had gotten over it. At least I had until Miss Ng told me to write an essay on my father to be handed in to her the next day.

Things changed drastically the day I turned eight. No more the comfort of the backseat of a Mercedes on my way to or from school, no more the luxury of having my mother beside me helping me with homework or the panics and cycling trips every Sunday.

Both my parents were declared bankrupt because of a huge investment loss in the stockmarket. The day our possessions were seized was the day my father left. He did not even wait till I came back from school to say good-bye. There was noc ard, no note; just an empty space at dinner tablle from that day onwards.

From that day, I had to baby-sit my siblings to study and set a good example for him. I took over the household chores which were previously done by a maid and my mother. I took public buses to and from school. I had to take up part-time jobs. However, these hardships were by and large manageable. The worst hardship of all wa that we had no roof over our heads. We were at the point of being evicted from our house when my aunty offered us a room in her four-room flat. Gratefull, we squeezed into it