Horror on the Fifth Floor

I rang the doorbell. I clutched my pencil case with my left hand and tried in vain to 'style' my mane while waiting for the door to open. It was 9.30 p.m - I had been out the entire day and felt clammy. I would have yelled 'Open sesame' moments ago. What's taking so long? Can I come in, teach and go HOME?!

I have been teaching for 3 weeks now and I'm already eager to add this week's wages - a hefty sum of $80. I basically earn $320 a month. I recall writhing in excitement while I did mental calculations before I met him, my student.

Dearest Joseph is 13. Maybe my expectations were too high or something - in line with the 'innocent until proven guilty' mentality, by the time my first lesson with him ended, I knew this was not going to be a walk in the park. I would coach him in 2 subjects, and I happily recommended 2 hours a week per subject. My motives were simple, I needed cash, and tutoring ensured easy and quick money. I know a friend who earned at least $2000 a month during her prime days of tutoring, AND she's just 18 mind you.

I slowly became aware of a bickering. The neighbours, must be. Joseph has a very quiet family - he was the sole child and his quaint housewife mother would do chores in the morning and play computer games at night (yes, you heard me right).

What's taking so long? Plus I don't hear the jingling of keys. Should I? Ring the bell again? By then, I couldn't block it out anymore. It wasn't background noises, it sounded too close by. There was a female's voice. It was shrill, and it was screaming Mandarin with such viciousness. Then came the sound of slashings. It was unmistakable - belt or hanger. I could hear the sound when as it struck flesh.

I thought I heard a second voice, at least a notch more guttural. Joseph?

Caught in the middle of a disciplinary action. No denying that. What horrible timing. God!
Ironically, class was suppose to start at 9.00 p.m, but I had to postpone it because I was engaged. If only I came earlier, I could have saved him from it all.

Okay. What next. Dash for it. Just leave? Ring the doorbell again?
No wait.
Wait? How much longer? It's obviously a bad time. He's going to be red-eyed in class. How to teach?
Listen - Keys - jingling.
Mrs. Tan.

" Er, Priya. Sorry. Er...."
"It's okay"
"See.....hrm.., can you come tomorrow"
"....Okay"
"..Joseph.....he's a naughty boy....."
"I'll come tomorrow Mrs. Tan. 10 to 11, in the morning"
"Okay. See you then"

Spooky.
I was baffled at best. My mom was too. Joseph lives just 2 floors above mine. It couldn't have been more than 10 minutes since I left home.

"WHY?", mom asked suspiciusly, almost with some amount of amusement.
"The mother....she was disciplining him. Told me to come tomorrow"
"HuH? Like that also can ah?.....heh heh"
"It's so....weird..."
"Not weird....oh....just get used to it..."

Oh yeah, thanks mom.

Current music: Daniel Powter's Bad day