This is my grandparent's neighbour two blocks away. One of my younger cousins wanted me to take him to the river across the road where we had to climb over a small mound to reach. When I climbed up the mound and before my cousin even fully crossed the road he was already chickening out.
As I stood up on the mound
From the moment I grew tall enough to reach the pedals of my grandmother's bike, I would ride out on it whenever I could. And I would always hear this lady screeching at me whenever I rode past but I could never make out what she was screeching about. My cousin Long (pronounced Loong) would always be contented riding pillion rather than ride the bike itself so she would occasionally follow me on my rides and we would wonder why the lady seemed to be scolding us so loudly.
After a while, in fact I think it was after a few years, I finally paid close enough attention to the screeching and realised she was advising me in Hokkien dialect to be careful when I rode the bike and not to fall. Then a few years later the screeching stopped. My cousin and I thought she passed away since she was quite elderly and frail looking even when we were younger.
So I was really surprised when I heard her screeching again while I stood on the mound and if you look closely enough at the picture, you can see her frail body standing at the door. It's a pretty morbid picture with the house in shambles, windows all closed, the house dark and an old frail lady living by herself screeching at the world. I don't think I have ever in my life seen the house with its lights switched on at night.
I finally asked my grandmother about her, and she said she had always been a little mentally ill. Her brothers moved out many years ago but continue to stop by to feed her but otherwise she lives alone.
I wish I was a lot more braver. To be alone and living in the dark in more ways than one is not a place anyone should ever be in.