Creative Writing: Belonging
Bright, blood red colours saturated the makeshift tent, signalling the arrival of a new year. Red papers rustled in the breeze. Inscribed on them were golden characters each indicating happiness, health and prosperity. Red flowers bloomed in their various places around the tent. Bodies piled in ecstatically, one after another, sniffing, as they entered, the heavenly aroma of the vast array of foods present. Greetings were exchanged. So was money, which remained silent in the red packets they were initially placed in.
Sophie watched on with silence. Smiling at the very few she knew and avoiding the countless others who she did not know the names of. Clutched tightly in her hands were the red packets she received: her only satisfaction.
She squeezed her way through the rowdy pack of men gathered about the back entrance of her home. They towered over her and their incessant and deafening chanting and laughing was terrifying. A sense of relief flooded in, once she was in the secure confines of her home. Home sweet home, she thought as she slowly ascended up the stairs. The racket from the family gathering still echoed through the lifeless house, however with headphones now firmly placed on her ears, the noises diminished.
She entered her safe haven, her room, blasting rock music from her iPod. Feelings of security and satisfaction blanketed her yet sadness still clung on to parts of her. Reluctantly, she shuffled towards her window, overlooking their backyard and the neighbours’. One in a sea of red, he other in blue. One celebrating the coming of their cultural New Year, the other Australia Day.
She looked on with envy at her neighbours, deeply wanting to join in with their celebrations. After all, being born and raised in an Australian community, she felt more comfortable being Australian. She watched as the kids jumped into the pool. She watched their sizzling barbecue with hunger. She watched their noticeable pride in being Australian. Envy consumed her.
Sophie watched on with silence. Smiling at the very few she knew and avoiding the countless others who she did not know the names of. Clutched tightly in her hands were the red packets she received: her only satisfaction.
She squeezed her way through the rowdy pack of men gathered about the back entrance of her home. They towered over her and their incessant and deafening chanting and laughing was terrifying. A sense of relief flooded in, once she was in the secure confines of her home. Home sweet home, she thought as she slowly ascended up the stairs. The racket from the family gathering still echoed through the lifeless house, however with headphones now firmly placed on her ears, the noises diminished.
She entered her safe haven, her room, blasting rock music from her iPod. Feelings of security and satisfaction blanketed her yet sadness still clung on to parts of her. Reluctantly, she shuffled towards her window, overlooking their backyard and the neighbours’. One in a sea of red, he other in blue. One celebrating the coming of their cultural New Year, the other Australia Day.
She looked on with envy at her neighbours, deeply wanting to join in with their celebrations. After all, being born and raised in an Australian community, she felt more comfortable being Australian. She watched as the kids jumped into the pool. She watched their sizzling barbecue with hunger. She watched their noticeable pride in being Australian. Envy consumed her.