I swear, drama comes searching for me.

Yesterday, I watched Wall-E. It’s good, by the way, go watch it immediately. And make sure you go with company, ‘cos…

when my friends fetched me home, some fucker threw a brick into my friend’s car, while we were all still in the car. Her car’s back windscreen shattered.

She parked in front of my house, and I was just about to say goodbye, when I heard the loudest explosion. I screamed instinctively, I thought the explosion was from outside the car. Maybe a car exploded or there were some absurdly loud fireworks or something. When I turned around and saw the shattered windscreen, it still didn’t occur to me it was broken by something. I thought it just combusted by itself. I was sitting at the back and my two other friends in front. But I’m alright, nothing but a cut little toe from stepping on a tiny shard of glass.

So of course we came out of the car, which was a stupid move. I mean, that’s the point of breaking the windscreen, isn’t it? To get us out of the car. Most fortunately, whoever threw the brick left immediately after throwing it because there wasn’t anyone around. But see, I for one didn’t realise the windscreen broke because of a brick because honestly, I didn’t feel any brick. I didn’t even know there was a brick in the car until my friend pointed it to me. I didn’t feel anything at all, other than shattering glass. Yet my black tiered skirt had a mark on it; I guess it touched the brick.

Anyway, we were very lucky that the fucker left. I was very lucky I didn’t even feel the brick, much less hit my head. My friend may not be as lucky, financially, because her insurance doesn’t cover broken windscreens. My friends called their relatives over so they could take pictures for the police report.

This is obviously a case of being at the wrong place and the wrong time. Yet parents seem to think this incident is partly our fault. My friend was admonished by her mother because she has been telling her to be careful and not to go out so much at night and all that. Even Dee, who never says a thing whenever I tell my parents I’m going out, suddenly goes about yammering about how he’s always told me not to go out at night and to be careful and all that shit.

If this is disrespectful against the parents above, I’m really sorry, but honestly, this is something totally unexpected. While crime cases in my town are not uncommon, my street has never experienced brick-throwing motorcyclists. When you go out, do you foresee yourself having your handbag stolen or your car tyres deliberately slashed, etc? You don’t, do you? Okay, so maybe you should, ‘cos when you expect the unexpected you can take the necessary measures to prevent or minimise the risk of it happening, blablabla…

To me, that’s not the way to live life. If you are constantly fearing bad things happening to you, you can never enjoy whatever you’re doing. I’m not saying throw caution to the wind and be reckless. I’m saying that what we did was something totally normal. I always go out to the movies with these friends. And we always fetch each other home. What we did was routine and reasonably safe. It wasn’t even a midnight movie; the incident happen just before ten o’clock at night. This was nobody’s fault. At least, nobody but the fucking brick-thrower. So why are we girls getting scolded for doing something totally normal? It’s not like we went clubbing and got back at 2am and got thrown a brick to our car. And even if that were the case, it’s still not our fault! Why do parents do that??

Do you think I would’ve been admonished like that if the brick hit my head?