21

I'm not going to describe the day.
I won't go into details of what happened when I woke up and what happened the rest of the time I was up until now. What I am going to do, to say, in this post, is state the facts.
That is all.

First, we'll start with the obvious.

It is my 21st birthday, as of 24th February 2017.
I am now 21 years old.
I am currently home, in my hometown, Tanah Merah, Kelantan.
I woke up in my bed. In my room.

I have chores.
I know I have to wake up.
Mom is calling for me.

Strangely, I didn't want to speak.
Not because I have morning breath because nobody has ever cared about that in this family, but because I simply.....didn't want to. It was as if my lips were locked with an invisible chain which I have no keys to. I wouldn't open them. I wouldn't.
I struggled to answer with the best non-verbal language I know how.
I hope it was enough.

A constant bile resting in my throat. Tasting of vomit and tears.
Still I smiled. And smiled. And smiled.

Got ready at Mom's insistence. A grey dress with a grey overcoat with a grey hijab.
I forgone my glasses, on purpose. I looked towards the earth.
Miniscule glances to people. Brief smiles.
My hand shakes.
No.
Stop that.

I read.
It lessens.
I continue to read.

Mom called me over to talk. 
I talk.
It lessens.

It's gone.

I sang.
It's gone.
It's okay.

I can speak if I truly want to.
Although that does not mean I would prefer it.

It's okay.
It's passed.