Silence For The Start

It was the start of a new dawn for Abby. Her stomach fluttered, the butterflies had somehow managed to mingle with the resident acids from many hours of hunger and a stressful cross-country move. She drew a long breath as she took in the little undergrad dorm room, sparsely furnished with a small un-made single bed on which lay a thin navy blue mattress, a tiny desk whose chipped white paint told the tale of many a midnight candle burnt, and the battered closet, a quarter of which was now taken over by the few clothes she had managed to bring with her.

The college dream had always formed a big part of not just Abby's life, but her parents too. Being the only child to immigrant parents tends to have that side effect. And yet, there she was, staring at this small cube she'd be calling home for the next four years. Completely and utterly alone, for the first time in her life.

Let's turn back time and take a look at the events that led her here...

Abby was a brilliant, newly-minted 18-year-old, with a capacity for love and patience unbeknownst to many. She had topped every class she stepped foot in, and her zeal to get into a leading university in the country had fueled her participation in almost every after-school activity there was. Her parents were educated, but it always felt to Abby as though there were some unfulfilled dreams and unlived lives that they passed on to her. She'd indulged them, not for fear of repercussions, but because she cared deeply for what they thought of her and ensuring their satisfaction was always at the top of her list.

That was until, of course, the actual time for her to go off to college came around. Anyone who asked her mum heard that Abby was on her way to becoming a world-class physicist. Her dad charted a different path - Abby was built for Wall Street, and she was an economist in training from the time she picked up her first book.

Abby wanted nothing to do with either. She had different, more world-altering aspirations. Her passion lay in environmental conservation, and she had always had a "bleeding heart" for Mother Earth. Which, I guess in this day and age, isn't hard to understand. She idolised Greta Thurnberg and could probably narrate every single one of David Attenborough's documentaries. Naturally, neither of her more conventional-thinking parents took these ambitions seriously. They had convinced themselves, with more than a little placation from Abby, that it was a side gig she could always pursue in conjunction with her actual career.

When it was time to send in her college applications, she had laboured to keep up the ruse for months that she had applied to the programs her parents envisioned for her. She knew this carefully constructed facade would have to end, but she couldn't bring herself to tell them.

One fateful Tuesday night, the big black curtain came crashing down. She had come from debate club, later than usual because they were preparing for an upcoming competition, to find her mum sitting on her bed. Abby's eyes had slowly manoeuvred from the streaks on her mum's tear-stained face, to the laptop in her lap. Abby's laptop. Her mum had slowly turned it around to reveal the acceptance letter Abby had left open. What should have been the happiest day of Abby's life was quickly shattered by the smell of disappointment that hung in the room. She'd never quite seen that look of hurt and betrayal in her father's eyes. It would haunt her until her last day.

It was days of bargaining and back and forth at first.

"It's not too late. You can still apply elsewhere"

"There's no need for that. I've already gotten into the program I wanted."

"Then why didn't you tell us this was your plan?"

"I tried, but I didn't know how to."

This quickly erupted into weeks of heated arguments when Abby wouldn't budge.

"You're not going anywhere!"

"Can you not even pretend to care about what I want for once?"

"We're not letting you go because we care! You need to be realistic about your future!"

"I'd rather have a future I'm uncertain about than one that I know I'll hate!"

Eventually, that too turned into silence as Abby made her last-minute preparations to move to another city. She hadn't asked her parents to drop her off at the airport, and they hadn't offered to despite her college being a four-hour plane ride from home. Her full scholarship meant she was going, with or without their blessing. The latter turned out to be her reality.

Abby had packed one suitcase with all her clothes and another smaller one carried a few pairs of shoes and enough bags for her to get to class with. She had thought that when travel day came, her parents would have a change of heart and see her off. Neither of them stirred from their sleep that Saturday morning. So she had slipped out silently at the crack of dawn and into the waiting Uber in the driveway.

***

The first semester went by, inundated by radio silence from home. When her newfound friends would ask about family, she always had a quick retort and subject change at the ready. When the semester ended, she holed up in her little room, biding the time until classes would resume. Neither of her parents had said a thing to her since she left home, and she knew neither their pride - nor hers - would allow it. So on they went. Silence.

Towards the end of her freshman year, Abby had been engrossed in a last-minute study session when she heard her phone buzz. She suspected it was one of her friends and didn't even bother looking at the screen. After all, whichever friend it was looking for her should have known better, she thought, she had to sit her second last exam in a few hours. She had buried her head in her books once more, intent on milking the very last bits of information she could out of months of poorly scribbled notes.

However, before she stepped into the exam room, there was a nagging feeling that she couldn't quite explain. She never got nervous for exams, whether she had studied or not. So this pit in her stomach unsettled her because she knew it wasn't the looming paper, but more of that sixth sense we all get. That feeling when you think you left the iron on at home, or that you're forgetting a friend's birthday. A sense of unfinished business that could have somewhat catastrophic results.

She pulled her phone out to try and calm her grating nerves. TikTok videos were like her chicken soup for the soul, and there was nothing better than a bit of mindless scrolling to relax Abby. When she unlocked her screen, however, her eyes were immediately drawn to an unexpected text notification.

"I'm not sure if you're done with your exams yet, but all the best bunny."

That day, Abby walked out of that exam room with an unmistakable pep in her step and an unmissable glint in her eyes. Her entire being looked lighter - her shoulders drooped less, her every step left lighter indentations in the ground, and the frown that had taken over her face was a little less upside down. Who knew 15 little words could have such an impact, huh?

There might not have been any pleasantries, and no customary "love you" followed the message from her dad, but she had waited more than a whole year to hear him call her "bunny". Or at least, to read it. This little term of endearment came from her obsessions with bunnies as a three-nager, and seeing it then, in that little text felt like some of the weight of the world she'd been painstakingly bearing alone and in silence was beginning to lift.

A few days later, Abby ran into her RA after fruitlessly searching for her. Although Mindy was in charge of the Ruby Student's Residence, she was almost always out somewhere.

"Hey, Abby! What's with the bags? Are you not spending the holiday here?" Mindy inquired, barely able to conceal her surprise.

"No. That's why I've been trying to reach you. I'm going home." Abby responded.

As she said this, her phone started to buzz loudly in her hand. She looked down at the screen, unable to hide the smile that now made permanent residence on her face. She didn't need too long to spot "Mum" on the caller ID. Many months of silence had turned into near-daily buzzing on her phone from her parents' calls.

It was her turn now to wave the white flag.