by Walter White » Fri Sep 18, 2015 12:26 pm
I'm just glad my kids weren't in that room. They're light sleepers and I don't like thinking about what might have happened if they were in that room and woke up during the burglary.
As I've already mentioned, almost ten years ago, I lived with my family at 172 z2, just a few meters off Norodom in Tonle Basaac/BKK. The house where that poor Dutch woman and her daughter were brutally murdered when they interrupted a burglar last year. I look at the photos of the bloodied crime scene in my old living room and I feel a cold chill running down my spine.
Back in those days we were warned about that house and I just laughed it off. My family, at least when compared to some Khmers, doesn't seem to be prone to superstition and irrational fears, but they were terrified of that house, so much so that they had monks come around and my wife constantly pleaded with me to move out of the place. Eventually, I gave in to their fears, but I really loved that little villa and always regretted giving it up. My wife had nightmares every night we slept in that place and when I travelled overseas she'd take our son and go stay at Mom's house. She used to say that she felt physically ill from that place and that moving out was a huge relief for her.
I'll name and shame the recent landlord in due time, but I have other matters in my life right now that require as much care and attention as I can muster and I don't have the energy or the room in my heart for useless petty anger and hatred.
I'm just glad my kids weren't in that room. They're light sleepers and I don't like thinking about what might have happened if they were in that room and woke up during the burglary.
As I've already mentioned, almost ten years ago, I lived with my family at 172 z2, just a few meters off Norodom in Tonle Basaac/BKK. The house where that poor Dutch woman and her daughter were brutally murdered when they interrupted a burglar last year. I look at the photos of the bloodied crime scene in my old living room and I feel a cold chill running down my spine.
Back in those days we were warned about that house and I just laughed it off. My family, at least when compared to some Khmers, doesn't seem to be prone to superstition and irrational fears, but they were terrified of that house, so much so that they had monks come around and my wife constantly pleaded with me to move out of the place. Eventually, I gave in to their fears, but I really loved that little villa and always regretted giving it up. My wife had nightmares every night we slept in that place and when I travelled overseas she'd take our son and go stay at Mom's house. She used to say that she felt physically ill from that place and that moving out was a huge relief for her.
I'll name and shame the recent landlord in due time, but I have other matters in my life right now that require as much care and attention as I can muster and I don't have the energy or the room in my heart for useless petty anger and hatred.