What does it mean to truly become an adult? Introducing a series of 11 short stories about Malaysian youth from various backgrounds discovering themselves amidst a national landscape plagued by social issues and the enduring conflict between traditi...
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I wake up to muffled sounds of arguing from downstairs. I squint my eyes and look at the alarm clock on my bedside table through my bleary vision.
6:13 am the digital clock blinks.
My parents are at it again. Arguing over some stupid issue early in the morning while everyone else is still asleep.
What is it about today? We are already getting noise complaints. But the fights only get louder each time. The neighbours have even threatened to call the police on us.
I force myself to get up. I crack my door open to hear what's going on.
"Diam lah! Why you let Liah shave her hair like that? What the hell! Lei chisin?" Dad screams.
Chills run down my spine as I comb my fingers through my shaved hair. Mom let me shave it last week after months of begging, even though she knew Dad would never allow it. She told me to hide it from him so he wouldn't find out, but he still did anyway.
CLANG!! A loud crashing noise comes from downstairs. Well, shit. Now my neighbours are going to hear all this crap this early in the morning.
With my heart pounding, I tiptoe downstairs and stop by the foot of the stairs to peek into the dining room. I see the table full of steaming hot food, with one chair by the end that is not pulled out. Mom and Dad are by the kitchen counter; Mom's hands are clenched in fists while Dad shouts and points at her.
Mom's 20th wedding anniversary present from Dad last year is lying next to them... broken in pieces. Mom and Dad fight a lot, and it's usually about me. Last time it was about that black top, then the platform boots that I got as a reward from Mom. And now, my hair. He always blames it on Mom for defending and spoiling me.
I can see San and Ran's small figures hiding behind the kitchen wall even without my glasses. Their faces pale with fear as they witness my parents screaming at each other. They poke their tiny heads to see me and run towards me.
"Jie Jie," both of them tug at the edge of my shirt, "Scared."
They hide behind me and start sobbing. I crouch down and comfort them. The arguing finally comes to a stop. My siblings look at me with their sad eyes. I tell them it's okay and send them upstairs to get ready for school.
Having no appetite anymore, Dad walks away, leaving his breakfast on the table. Mom stares at the broken pieces with a heartache. She bends down to pick up what's left of her favourite antique vase. Her tears fall to the ground as I help her clean up the glass pieces.
"早知道不要生这个孩子。" Dad mumbles.
I stare at the food on the table. There's not a single soul sitting there. The family that was once happy is now gone.
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