This house is haunted

This house is haunted. I cannot describe the feeling of walking into my grandma's old bedroom... Only to be greeted by the wind chill that creeps from corner to corner. And the picture of my grandma: not one single breath in her, but she's as beautiful as ever. This was the hall she used to sweep, the sound she used to hear, and the comfort she used to feel. Now the dust collects and she's still gone. And the recent passing of my late uncle, one who made farting jokes and had a distinct laughter that cheered me up. In his room, you find my lonely aunt, clinging tightly to her pillow and snuggled deep into the quilts that carry her away from solitude to dreams of love and joy. Her face is wrinkly and she has a frail pace, but she finds her husband in the light. I do not know where she finds the fortitude... perhaps it comes from my grandma. I cannot even step into the kitchen without seeing her face... it's engraved onto my brain, a picture I will never forget. The ghosts of my past loom over me, and even those still alive have left phantoms here. This room is never still. My cousin, Helen's shadow slept by my side last night as I remembered the summer nights of eating hot cheetos and playing Donkey Kong on our Super Nintendo, and the bed I slept on was the one where my sister and my cousin, William, and I would jump with fake plastic swords in our hands. My This house is haunted.

So I hitched a ride with Dan when he made his way down to Irvine. I spent a few days with him and then he drove me to my aunt's house located in the San Gabriel Valley, a suburb of LA. I just wanted to spend a couple of days with my aunt since her husband died a few weeks ago, and I couldn't make his funeral since I was in New York. I'd be doing nothing in San Jose anyway. It's warm here... plus, I love Dan. He's awesome.

So what can I do? I've already failed to comfort my aunt with words over the telephone. I don't do well with people and I do not know how to say what I want to say in Chinese. All I can do is sit here and watch tv with her in silence. And I hope she enjoys my company as much as I enjoy hers. And my other aunt... the one recovering from daily dialysis drove slowly as she struggled to take me out to breakfast this morning for her reflexes are not as strong and her body is still weak from the failure of her kidneys. I do not know how to approach them. Blehhh!!

Being back in California is so depressing. It makes me never want to come back. I hate it here. Not to mention the fact that my parents' house was robbed on New Years... Ugh. My laptop was stolen. AND, I just got news that my grandma might have lung cancer. Yeah. Great way to start off the new year. I hate it here.

I wish I was as strong as my late grandma, as strong as my depressed aunt, as strong as my hard-working mom. And everything I do is for them. And my goals are all for them. And my plans are all for them. And my dad? He's a coward. He's a baby disguised as a grown man. He has no responsibilities and he has no dignity. He has disappointed me over and over again and I keep giving him chances. He has no strength in him. He doesn't deserve respect. But he's my father. And he's her husband.

Also, I hate liars.