Some people say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I would like to wholeheartedly agree. My siblings and parents have always seemed like a bother to me, until the summer of 2009, that is. It was not until this summer that a traumatizing experience had amended my impulsive childlike tendencies.

My family and I had just landed in the fine country of Singapore. When the plane finally halted to a complete stop, I felt a rush of adrenaline surge through my veins. Jumping up, I hopelessly reached up in vain to the overhead compartments to snatch my favorite Hello Kitty suitcase- the pink one with the light red and sky blue stars and white polka dots. As I shamelessly struggled to realize how my mere 4’3 frame would never be able to reach even half of the height to the compartment, my father chuckled and  effortlessly passed me my precious possession.
“Audrey, honey, take Hello Kitty and wait right outside the plane exit for me. I have to unload your siblings’ and mommy’s suitcases too! Don’t hold up the line now.”

“Okay!” I gave him a thumbs-up as I began skipping towards the exit, ready to leave behind the stuffy plane and face the new foreign land.

Around one minute passed, and I found it to be increasingly difficult to fight the urge to explore the unfamiliar airport myself. I could be basking under the warm sun and trying new desserts- or so my naive little mind thought. Another minute passed, and I didn’t know what to do. Playing with my Littlest Pet Shop, drawing in my Hello Kitty notebook, or reading the Accelerated Reader books required in elementary school all dimmed in comparison to opening my eyes to the new atmosphere of Singapore. Without much thought, I decided to ditch my dreadful spot in the corner of the walkway, which I had been patiently maintaining for the past two minutes. Just as I was about to join the moving line of passengers leaving the plane to what seemed like a gate to freedom and complete enjoyment, my family slowly, like always, left the aircraft. I was relieved yet somewhat disappointed. With my younger brother and sister there, everything would take forever!

But I couldn’t let my own siblings prevent me from enjoying my vacation. On the first night, my family and I were on a quest to catch the upcoming subway train that would transport us safely to our proposed destination: the hospital-themed restaurant “Clinic Bar” in Clarke Quay. The very thought of being able to eat while being seated in old-fashion wheelchairs and to receive my favorite fruit punch drink through an IV bag intrigued me. I recognized my heightened sense of excitement and eagerness, but dismissed my feelings as harmless. I mean, what could possibly go wrong? Supposedly a lot more than I was consciously aware of.

“Beep. Beep. Beep. Train approaching, train approaching. Destination: Clarke Quay.”

‘Mommy, daddy, Aidan, and Madison, let’s go!” I cheerfully exclaimed while frantically pointing at the opening doors of  our mode of transportation to the highly anticipated eatery. Of course, any attempts to get their attention failed; my brother had to tie his shoelaces. Why was it always my brother? A few minutes passed as I impatiently tugged at the striped sleeve of my father’s shirt.

“Beep. Beep. Beep. The doors will be closing shortly.”

“Audrey, wait for us. You’re going to get kidnapped, young lady! You’re never going to see us again if that happens!”

My mind was more focused on the pace of their unbelievably slow walking. I found myself growing increasingly impatient, and I clenched my white butterfly shirt by the hem in frustration. I was completely sick of having to always hold back because of my younger brother. So, when I decided my family was close enough to make it onto the train in time -around five to ten feet away-, I hopped right onto the subway that seemed to graciously invite me to take a seat opposite from the seemingly harmless sliding doors.

“Beep. Beep. Beep.”

And just like that, the doors slammed shut with a piercing noise that sharply resonated within my heart. Suddenly, feelings of anxiety, fear, panic, horror, and shock slapped me in the face. It was one of my first wake up calls to reality. Was I really never going to see my family again? I didn’t hate them that much to the point of wanting them gone forever! I scrambled up to the train windows and pressed my palms against the glass as I peered in a frenzy outside for around ten seconds- directly into the mentally confused and terrorized eyes of my mother. My brother and sister were already in outbursts of tears, and my father looked upset beyond words. That was all I saw of them, at least for the next thirty minutes or so. The train had gained momentum, driving my family and I further apart as each second passed.
I felt tears gradually forming, eventually falling on my pale pink, ruffled skirt. I heard suppressed snickering left and right as I became aware of the scene I had just unwillingly made. Honestly, I didn’t care much. I just really wanted my mother back. However, being a nine year old in a foreign country in a subway full of old ladies and businessmen, I was helpless and alone- or so I thought. Unexpectedly, a warm, large hand patted my back sympathetically. A chill ran down my spine. Was this the kidnapper my mother warned me about? The medium-sized creature that loomed above gave me the impression of a shadow of death hovering to the right of me. As I immediately, on impulse, turned my head to the right, I expected one of those creepy, drunk guys to be there. Yet, I came face to face with an old grandma with wrinkly, old skin and large, circular glasses that did no justice to her incredibly small face. I stared up in confusion and amusement, looking her square in the eyes, as if I was daring her to kidnap an innocent child like me. But behind my confident demeanor, I was terrified. Tears blurred my vision. Where was my family when I needed them?

“Honey, let’s get off at the next stop. Everything will be alright.” She abruptly declared without hesitation (and in English!). For some reason, the grandma’s surprisingly sweet voice soothed me as she reached for my little hands that had been curled up into fists. For a split second, somewhere deep within my broken heart, an inkling of hope blossomed.

However, I didn’t answer her. How could I? My mother told me to never talk to strangers. Instead, I decided to take her crinkly, outstretched hand. It felt uncomfortable at first, but I felt my tears dry up bit by bit as my uneasiness began to fade away as I desperately clung to her hand.

Suddenly, the same sickening, alarm-like bell erupted in noise as we neared the upcoming stop. This time, I made sure to slowly exit the train, staying right by the side of the old lady. As I took a step down to the uneven stone platform, I was dragged over to a nearby bench, five to ten feet away from the subway door. My hot pink crocs trudged against the unusually cold pavement until I was softly motioned to take a seat. But I didn’t want to. I thought the lady was crazy. I was lost and alone, and definitely did not want to spend the remaining hours of the night sitting on a small wooden bench in the middle of a bustling train station. For such reasons, I remained adamant about standing on the bench to look for my family. My plans were sullied as she easily removed me from the bench and reassured me for the last time:

“The next train is coming, and daddy will be here soon. Just stay calm, honey.”

It was at this very moment when I erupted yet again in tears of frustration. She didn’t understand at all. She couldn’t even predict the future! Who did she think she was? I was never going to see Madison, Aidan, my mother, or my father ever again! I was going to be taken away and left to die somewhere! My vehement sobs were then interrupted by an announcement made on the intercom.

“Beep. Beep. Beep. Train approaching, train approaching.”

As the doors to the subway gradually flew open, my head snapped up in a futile attempt to somehow discern my father’s fluffy, jet black hair and dark brown eyes among the sea of arriving passengers. But my vision was blurred. All my efforts were made in vain, and I failed to locate my father. This was the end, wasn’t it?

“Beep. Beep. Beep.”

I watched as the doors slammed mercilessly shut as the subway continued its journey further into the haunting darkness of the night. I hung my tear-streaked face in defeat as the tears flowed endlessly. The old grandma kept trying to console me, but I wouldn’t have any of it. I knew she wasn’t a fortune teller. What a liar! Seconds after I angrily called her out mentally, my family came charging towards me, faster than lightning.

“Audrey!” My father exclaimed, with a tone of both irritation and relief.

As I stumbled into my parents’ arms, I silently swore that I would never act on my own ignorant impulse again, as I didn’t want to come close to ever losing my family anymore. I was overwhelmed with feelings of immense relief and happiness as I felt myself finally being able to genuinely smile for the first time in the presence of my siblings.
Nowadays, they aren’t as bad as I made them out to be when I was nine. I am confident enough to say I actually appreciate their company after I realized how quickly important people in my life could be snatched away from my fingertips. As for subways, I’ve decided to stay away from those for a while.