Family

• Melissa Ang, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2020

Happy chatter filled the air in a language I can’t understand, a language I was meant to understand. For the first time after many years, my close family of five traveled to Malaysia, my parents, aunts and uncles rejoicing at the reunion. The crickets chirped along with everyone, the moon basking us with a gentle warmth as the Wong family- mum's family- ushers us into the restaurant. There laid tables covered in crisp white cloths, with matching chairs and silver tableware, which shimmered ever so slightly under the light.

As everyone began to settle down into their respective tables of adults and children, I continued to stand still, partly because of my temporary blinded by the glow that seem to emit from the restaurant, but more so of the awkward situation I was placed in. To sit between my cousins, or to ask my parents if I was allowed to sit on the "adult table"? In other words, will I choose to sit in absolute silence- as conversation in English isn't an option with my Chinese only speaking cousins- or to sit in absolute silence surrounded by uncles and aunts, who exchanged stories with my parents so constantly, that I can't seem to squeeze a word in. Not that I can anyways, since they can't understand me. The "adult table" erupted in laughter at my uncle's joke, the words I managed to make out were "pig" and "person". I looked down, wrapping my arms around my waist, as my face began to heat up. I glanced at my cousins.

"Fat pig... hahaha... look at her.... hahaha..." But I have changed, of course...

Snapping out from the past, I've decided it best to hang around people my age, so I dragged my feet towards the empty spot. And there I sat, for hours, and there I sat, not making a single sound. At least my sisters are having fun...