Celebrating Chinese New Year the first time in over a decade, she hesitated at her ancestral home’s steps. The outside of the ancient house was decorated in red and gold, symbolizing fortune and wealth, and a dozen red lantern dangled from above.
Since she had returned, her family had not spoken to her. They’d even purposefully refused her call. They still blamed her for her parents’ accident. “If you were here,” her grandmother had sobbed when she called them the first time after she’d left, “they would’ve stayed on the straight and narrow path. They wouldn’t had gone to gamble. They wouldn’t had been drunk driving home. They wouldn’t had died.” After that, her family seemed to had cut off all the communique with her.
Fifteen days ago, she arrived in her hometown and since then, she’d been once again trying to figure her way around the familiar yet unrecognizable town and it wasn’t until last week did she found the address to her ancestral home. Now, here she stands, unsure whether to go in.
I am participating in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above.