Things I don't tell my mother

The screen flashes and then an image appears and stabilizes the lights.
"Hey. How are you?" I ask.
"Hello! We are alright, how are you?" my mother chirps.
I'm bad. I'm feel terrible. I spent one hour bawling on Saturday and another half an hour crying my eyes out today. In between, I've been falling asleep with tears streaming down my face. 
Instead of saying any of this, I pull my lips up the sides of my cheeks, trying to manage a smile. "I'm alright," I reply.
"How's uni? Anything out of the ordinary happen?" my mother responds.
I've zoned out of lectures or my study sessions. My emotions change so fast, one minute I'm crying till my eyes go crimson  and the next minute I'm laughing so hard my cheeks blush.
"Uni's fine. Nah, not much has happened. How's the fam?" I respond.
"We're alright. Really tired from today, cos we had to wake up early in the morning. Your dad's asleep. Anyway, would you be interested on going on a family trip with us in December? How do you feel about another trip?" my mum asks.
"Hm, I might be busy. I'll have to check back and let you know if I can make it. But if I can't, you guys go ahead," I say calmly.
Also last year I went on what is currently known as the worst trip in my life. I fell out with the so-called friends I went with during the trip, one of those people included my housemate. I contemplated moving out. I cried a lot because I felt so lonely in the aftermath of the chaos. I was petrified at the possibility I had no value as a human because people I thought I trusted actually chose to leave me. Around that point of time, I got dismal grades from uni and cried because I questioned if intelligence was still my thing. Prior to that, intelligence has always been my thing. That was what I was best at in the family. I topped my class during PSLE, I topped my class in JC. So after losing friends and receiving my grades, I was in the process of questioning my value as a human being. 
"Alright. Keep me updated. You look tired. Have you been busy?"
"Yes, I've just had more uni today so it's been tiring."
And I probably look more tired than usual because I've been crying myself to sleep for the past 4 nights and well, I was wailing my heart out two hours before I called you. I'm still grieving. I don't know how to get better. I wanted to call to see your faces and hear your voices and I wanted to talk about how sad I am. I wanted to talk about the pain of losing Ah ma. I wanted to tell you how much I'm hurting. I want to tell you about how guilty I feel. For not being there during her last day. I wanted to tell you about how I just suddenly fall apart and break down, and how hard I try to keep myself from doing that in uni. How tiring it is to do it. I'm emotionally exhausted. I wanted to ask you to tell me how to make it go away. How can I stop crying. But seeing you now, I can't bring myself to say it. How do I tell you these things and not feel guilty about making you worry from far far away? I can't. So I'm swallowing these words, because the last thing you need is another burden on your shoulders. The last thing I want is for you to spend your hard earned money and waste your scarce amount of free time to visit me when you could be spending that money and time relaxing on a vacation that you are in such terrible need of. The past 5 months have been hard for you and dad, of this I am aware. As your oldest daughter, a legal adult, I know better than to make you worry for me. You don't need that. 
"Ok, go get some rest. We'll talk another day?" she advises.
"Yup, ok mum. Bye mum, bye sis." I reply.

3

Today was the third day that I woke up from my sleep and realised that what happened on Saturday was not just a terrible dream, but rather, it is a living nightmare. The past 3 nights, I wish that when I wake up the next morning, I'll realise that the events of 18th August were but a dream. Often, I dream about the most ludicrous yet amazing things happening to me (like going to Shawn Mendes' concert, meeting people that I've always wanted to meet, going to Canada for placement), only to wake up and realise it was fake. That those things didn't happen. Why can't this be the same then? Why can't this terrible, horrible, god-awful event be but a part of a traumatic nightmare?

The dark side of living abroad

It is so easy to flaunt the perks of overseas travel, or living overseas, be it for a few years, or for the bulk of your life. Everyone is so ready to tell you about the craziest adventure they've ever had and how you can do it too! Or tell you stories about how the culture of a land 8 hours away is so vastly different to your own.  And while I acknowledge all these wonderful perks, living overseas is not a bed of roses.
No one tells you about the homesickness. I never thought it would bother me. "I'm a global citizen!" Or so I thought. But ever so often, I will get abruptly hit by a pang of nostalgia when something familiar happens to me. The other day, I was buying some things from the store and the cashier spoke to me in Mandarin. In that split second, I was back home, paying for something, conversing in Mandarin. But that moment was fleeting, it vanished almost as soon as it arrived. The after effects was the emotional realization that I'm not home anymore. Or when you're stressed out with university and you don't have your family around to cheer you on, or listen to you rant.
No one tells you about having to miss out on the celebrations and festivals you grew up with, the things you regard as a yearly tradition. You start to miss out on Mother's Day, Father's Day, birthday parties, Chinese New Year, Mooncake festival.
No one tells you about how the many friends you used to bet your life on will slowly vanish from your life. You begin to grow more and more distant and the person you once knew like the back of your hand, well, that person isn't the same anymore. Neither are you. Both of you have changed and for better or for worse, those changes take its toll on the friendship.
No one tells you about coping with the loss of a loved one from far away. No one tells you about the number of last minute flights your have to book (or the absolutely ludicrous prices of those flights) just to make sure you get to see the person you love before it's their time to leave the earth.  No one tells you about the guilt you carry on your shoulders for not being there during that person's last breath, or how pathetic a video call feels. You don't feel fully there, because to the people on the other side of the screen, you are but a flat, 2 dimensional figure. Sometimes they forget you're on the other line, that you're trying to feel included by making all these calls, but failing miserably. No one tells you about the pain of losing a grandparent while being stuck in a place that is 8 hours away. No one mentions the fact that grief is a knife that stabs on your heart, being slowly twisted when you least expect it. No one tells you how to mourn alone. No one tells you how to cope without family.

Narration

She pull her ID card out of her pocket and taps the reader. Two seconds later, the tempered glass barrier opens and she strides past it. She walks to the lift, presses the up button and taps her left foot while she waits. A lift arrives, but alas, the people in the lift are packed like a can of sardines. A beeping sound emanates from the lift and the door closes. Once again, she presses the button, albeit with more force this time. Another lift arrives, and this time, to her relief, it is empty, save for two people. She steps in and presses the slightly faded '3' button. When it arrives at the 3rd storey, she steps out and is immediately bombarded with the sickly smell of antiseptic lotion, the sounds of people talking, beeps from heart monitor machines, the sight of so many people in different coloured uniforms. She knows the way by heart. Make a right, then a left, then a left, followed by yet another right, then keep walking to the end.
"Ah ma! Li ho bo?" she says, her voice half an octave higher than it usually is when she talks to most people.
"Wo buay soo hock. Ba dor jin tia," her grandma whispers.
"Li oo jiak yo bo? Oo gah lo kun gong bo?" she asks.
"Aiya, ga lokun gong, buay gong sio siang lah. Wo buay ho liao." her grandma whimpers, shaking her head. She closes her eyes and her head slides towards left shoulder.

She rearranges the blankets on the bed, and puts on four more heat packs on her grandma to keep her warm. Then, she pulls out her black laptop from her maroon haversack and begins to do her readings for her next class, which starts at 8am the next day.
When the clock strikes 9, she packs her things, rearranges the bed one last time and whispers in her grandma's ear “晚安。明天，我会来看你。” She treads out of the ward lightly, just as she has for the past 9 nights. A frown slowly forms on her face as she wonders how long she has to do this for. How long it will be before her grandma will be back home, with her and the rest of the family. Encountering the gantry again, she pulls out her ID card yet again, walking past the gates when they open. Her mouth widens into a yawn as she gets on the train home.