The five of us are squished into a hotel studio. Our proximity to each other is driving me crazy. There’s hardly any space. It’s not just that the sofa is pulled out into a bed. It’s not just that the cushions are laid out all over the ground because Ken refuses to share a bed with anyone. It’s not just that take-out boxes filled with leftovers are cluttering the tabletops because my parents always order appetizers they assume we’ll eat even though we very clearly state beforehand that the mains we order for ourselves will fill us up and so we will not be helping them in eating the appetizers.

I’m sitting in a corner of the room, making the most of what little space left there is. The physical confinement translates my mental state. The walls close in on my brain, squeeze it into a pulp, and–

*hiccup* Perfect. Every time I hiccup I feel like I’m gonna die. It feels like my innards are seizing up. What if one day I hiccup too hard and the pressure is too much and my innards explode? #realtalk

I can’t escape. Nobody wants to go out. So I’m stuck inside. The TV is always on. Mom is always talking on the phone. One of the parents finally gets bored, complains about us always staying in, and then makes us go out to do whatever. Everyone’s like, okay. I’m like, finally. My bag is packed and ready to go. Everyone is still glued to their screens and haven’t moved an inch. There’s another hour of this useless call and response. We’re still inside.

Nobody knows the plan. I try to make some, but then someone always has something going on that they conveniently forgot to mention even though I explicitly ask what everyone has going on but they’re all too distracted by whatever they’re doing to pay my question any attention. I’m back at square one.

I could just forget about them and do my own thing. But it’s always difficult to find my independence when on a family trip. I have no way to get anywhere except by walking, but there’s not much within walking distance. I need to get a job and learn how to drive or something.

For now, the mornings are my escape. I usually have three hours to myself, 6:00AM – 9:00AM. There are no distractions and all is calm, except for the symphony of snores, but I much prefer that over the cacophony of bickering and stupid TV show cartoons.

My days are tense, to say the least, but it’s nothing that a cup of bubble milk tea and a pair of earbuds can’t cure.

PS: 27. 25. 20. 19. 18. 17. 16. 14. 10. 07. 06. 05. 04. 02. 01.