A father tells the story of waking up, only to find his 17 year-old daughter and a boy sleeping naked together on the living room couch. Make sure you read all of this…
[English is not my native language, please be kind]
One morning I came down the stairs, seeing this exact scene – my 17 year old daughter with a young man, asleep after what must have been a night of ‘hard labor’. I very quietly made breakfast, went back upstairs and told my wife, son and other (youngest) daughter to be very quiet because people were still asleep. Our dinner table is on the other side of the room, about 20 feet from the couch but right in front of it. We all sat down and I yelled “YOUNG MAN” – never ever have I seen someone wake up and move from horizontal to vertical that fast. “Breakfast is ready!” I said with a tone as if I gladly would suck his soul out of his body. I pulled out the chair beside me. “Sit!” my family was silent, staring at their plates, not even twitching.
It must have been the hardest 20 feet for a butt naked youngster to cross. After he put on his clothes, which lay beside the dinner table, he sat down. My son (6’4″) patted him on the shoulder, looked him in the eyes, sighed and shook his head. By now he was really, really nervous. You could almost smell it. In my best Russian accent: “My friend, I’m going ask you a question. The answer you give is very important….for you.” At this point he was sweating.
you like cats?”
He was a very likable and friendly guy. Clearly uneducated but not dumb. There was something odd about him. My daughter assured me he was a very nice and attentive guy. She knew him for about a month by then. He came by every day since that morning, never stayed overnight though.
Every morning he came to pick her up for school on his bicycle, brought her home after, and made sure she did her homework. He looked after her when she was sick and we were at work. He invested time end effort. He had the patience of an angel when she had one of her terrible moods.
He said he had no family, no education, no steady job. She adores him. He adores her. Who am I to prevent her from learning from her own mistakes?
After this had been going on for about 8 months my son came to me. He had been asking around about him. It turns out the guy was homeless. His abusive father killed himself. His mother, a crackhead, took of three weeks after that. They lived in a rented trailer. He was 15 then and survived for three years on the streets – sleeping in parks, at the Salvation Army, with “friends”, cheap hotels. He worked construction jobs.
Now, there I was. I knew a young man, 18 or 19 years old, who was polite and comes in smiling; who leaves smiling; who cares; who helps, no need to ask; who makes my child happy. This is a kid who never had a chance to be a kid.
Sometimes when he does not come over because he has a job, we miss him. They are not buddies, but my son gets along with him very well. My youngest daughter trusts him unconditionally and my wife’s motherly instinct seems to have expanded. And me? I sometimes worry for him. I want him to be happy.
I told my wife and youngest daughter what I learned about him. They cried. I had a hard time telling them. I was disappointed in my oldest daughter. She knew. She should have told us. She loves him and lets him leave every night to go….where????
The next day I gave him a key of our house. I told him I expected him home every night. Home. In the next few weeks we fixed our spare room and took him shopping for furniture. He was quite good at making things. He wanted to be his own boss, he liked building things. We saw to it that he got an education which enabled him to do just that.
That was in 2000. Now, 15 years later, my found son and my daughter have a thriving business. They gave use three beautiful grandchildren last year.
Source: reddit
My son was transferred from Changi Prison to the Institute of Mental Health (IMH) in Buangkok on 23 June at 12 noon.
This was ordered by the court so that he can be assessed to see if he is suitable for a Mandatory Treatment Order (MTO) to be issued by the courts.
I did not know he had been transferred to IMH until the next day. No one told me.
It has been a very exhausting journey these last few months for everyone in the family, but nothing compared to what my son, Amos Yee, has gone through and continues to go through.
Amos has always been a chirpy, confident and very vocal child. He is also very creative, and would spend an endless amount of time on something which he sets his mind on.
But my son is a different person now.
Since his arrest in March and the many twists and turns in the court case, Amos is now exhausted, and yes, frightened. And I can understand why.
He has been remanded in prison for so long (40 days now) – even before he is sentenced – that he probably feels things no longer make sense.
I walked through the entrance of heavy metal doors at block 7 at IMH on Wednesday.
I understand that block 7 is where they also keep the truly mentally ill patients, and those who have committed crimes or offences and who are also mentally unsound.
It is also where my son is being held.
I presented my identity card to the officer, and filled in the required visiting form.
There are about 12 tables in the meeting room which resembles a campus study area.
Amos is more “privileged” than others – he is allowed to receive visits from me three times a week.
It was 4.20pm.
I could see my son for one hour.
I wondered why my son, who is here to be assessed if he has autism, is kept here in the same block as those who are mentally ill.
“I want to go home and sleep,” Amos tells me.
He has been so tired in Changi Prison where he is kept in a cell for 23 hours everyday, with the bright lights kept switched on most of the time, for the past three weeks.
It was impossible for him to sleep.
But there was nothing he could do but to bear with it. So I can understand that sleeping is the one thing he wants most.
He wishes that he could sleep at home and go for daily assessment, but that is not what the court ordered.
But he is here in a mental institute, where he too is kept in a room.
He sees people with “crazy faces” and endures the “crazy sounds” all day long.
He is the only sound person among the unsound.
The thought of this makes me frightened and sad.
Amos is locked up alone, with closed-circuit tvs watching him all the time.
His “cell” has only a urinal and a mattress on the floor.
Nothing else, no bed.
There is not even toilet paper.
And then there is the siren, or alarm, which goes off each time help is summoned to restrain a patient.
That too happens often and adds to the mental anguish.
And again, those screams from the patients. They go on all day and all night.
I take comfort that Amos at least is allowed to read. I can only hope that this will help him get through these 2 weeks in IMH.
I am told that there is a private ward at IMH where my son, who is not mentally unsound, could be sent to.
But he is ordered to be assessed at Block 7.
Amos made a video and ended up in a mental institute.
I wish he could be home with me so I can care for him.
- Mary Toh
Source: theonlinecitizen
