How could I trust you more, Cambodia?

I love my bike despite its old condition. The thought of losing it was beyond by expectation. Now I have lost it. It’s time to show some grief over it.
I asked myself again and again why life brought me at this crossroad. I really asked if this happened to me? Within an hour, I lost myself. Mind you, I did regret losing it but what I regretted the most was that I lost myself for a while, though I didn’t lose my marble. Therefore, what surprised me the most was that my mother’s words now should be taken into my consideration. “Never make peace with Cambodia,” my mom said, referring to the fact that I should not treat it as a peaceful country like Japan or Australia. But my idea is to make it be like one. Why can’t I?
One day after several hours after running an errand for my teacher, I went to my school as usual, copied several important documents, lied down on a rattan-made-with-sponge-below sofa. I was lying down for nearly 30 minutes, not to mention that I was feeling unnaturally tense. “Why was I feel uneasy about what??,” I wondered. I felt more and more uneasy. I just rushed down upstairs and found my bike nowhere. It was stolen peacefully. One of the neighbours recalled that she saw a car parking by and one of the guys came out and got on my bike. He didn’t even say goodbye to me. How funny!
I didnt’ feel shocked or even cry, but I feel sorry that this organized crime can never be cracked down. It is a petty crime, as some people say, but to needy people, losing such a thing can be a blow to them. I can’t kick ass but if I happen to meet these people, I won’t keep my feet free. These good-for-nothing rich kids are of course GOOD FOR NOTHING. I’m not making a generalization about rich people here. What I can see is that a crime ring of such organized crimes are often rich kids who don’t work but desire to make an awful lot of cash fast. I think they should work their way to the moon if they want to be rich and not work.
Shit happens, I know.
I will always be more careful, but will I ever trust Cambodia again? Let me see.

Where is my bike?
Where is my bike?

2 thoughts on “How could I trust you more, Cambodia?”

Comments are closed.