A few days after her birthday, the sun hung bright in the afternoon sky as Siti stepped off the bus that stopped near her old neighborhood. The air was thick with warmth and the faint scent of lemongrass drifting from someone's kitchen. It had been months since she last came home.
Her small house looked exactly the same — a quiet building with a rusty gate and an empty porch. She stood there for a moment, staring at the door, remembering the laughter that used to fill it. Then she sighed softly and walked inside.
The house was silent.
Dust clung to the furniture. The clock on the wall still ticked, but everything else felt frozen in time — like the house was waiting for someone who never came back.
She placed her small bag on the sofa and looked around. "I'm home," she whispered, though no one answered.
A few minutes later, she stepped outside again to get some air. Across the road, her neighbor, Mak Cik Fatimah, was sweeping her front yard. The older woman looked up, her eyes lighting up with recognition.
"Oh, Siti! It's been so long since I've seen you. You're hardly ever home anymore," Fatimah called out, setting the broom aside.
Siti smiled politely and walked closer. "I've been working, Auntie. I stay at the orphanage now."
Fatimah raised her eyebrows in surprise. "At the orphanage? Why do you stay there? Where are your parents?"
Siti lowered her gaze, her voice soft. "They haven't contacted me in a long time. I haven't heard from them at all."
Fatimah's kind face softened. She shook her head slowly. "Poor thing… but you're still young, Siti. Don't give up."
Siti looked up at her. "I don't know what to do anymore, Auntie."
The older woman smiled gently, brushing her hands on her skirt. "If you want my advice, go back to school. Study again. Get good results. Sometimes parents… they only realize what they've lost when their child achieves something. When they see you succeed, maybe their hearts will change."
Siti was quiet. The wind rustled the trees nearby, carrying the scent of rain from far away.
"School, huh…" she murmured. "I kind of miss studying too."
Fatimah nodded. "Don't waste your age, Siti. You're a smart girl. If you study hard, you can change your own future. You don't need to wait for anyone to be proud of you — just be proud of yourself."
Those words sank deep into Siti's heart. She thanked Fatimah softly before returning home. That night, she couldn't sleep. She kept thinking about what Fatimah had said.
"Just be proud of yourself."
For so long, she had been waiting — waiting for her parents to message her, waiting for love to return, waiting for something that never came. Maybe… maybe it was time to stop waiting.
Maybe it was time to start moving forward.
---
The next morning, the sun rose early, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and gold. Siti packed her bag, locked the gate, and took the bus back to the orphanage.
When she arrived, the sound of children laughing filled the air. The sight made her smile again. It was like stepping into light after being in shadow.
Safura was in the kitchen, arranging breakfast for the kids. She looked up when she saw Siti standing at the doorway.
"Siti! Welcome back. Haven't seen your face this early in a while," she said cheerfully.
Siti nodded, stepping closer. "I went home yesterday, Kak."
"Oh really? How was it? Everything okay?"
Siti hesitated. "The house… it's still the same. But empty. I met my neighbor, Aunt Fatimah. She advised me to go back to school."
Safura paused, her eyes warm with curiosity. "And how do you feel about that?"
Siti took a deep breath, her hands gripping the strap of her bag. "I think she's right. I want to study again. I don't want to keep waiting for my parents anymore. I want to become someone they'll be proud to see… even if they never reply to my messages."
For a moment, the kitchen fell silent except for the sound of a spoon clinking against a cup. Then Safura's lips curved into a proud smile.
"Siti," she said softly, walking over. "That's a really good decision. I'm proud of you."
Siti's chest felt lighter, her eyes brightening. "Really, Kak?"
Safura nodded firmly. "Of course. You're smart, Siti. You're hardworking. You have a bright future if you keep trying. Not everyone your age has the courage to make a choice like that."
Siti's smile widened. "Thank you, Kak."
Safura patted her shoulder gently. "We can arrange for you to re-enroll after the mid-year break. I'll help you with the paperwork."
Siti nodded eagerly. "I'll study really hard. I promise."
"Good," said Safura. "And remember, study not because you want to chase someone's approval. Study because you want to become the best version of yourself."
Those words made Siti's heart feel warm.
---
That evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the sky in orange and violet, Siti sat outside with the younger children. They were playing with the toys she had bought — laughing, running, shouting.
She sat on the steps, watching them with a small smile. In her hand was her phone, screen still empty of any messages. But for the first time, the emptiness didn't hurt as much as before.
She whispered to herself, "It's okay. I'll be fine."
Above her, the first star appeared in the twilight sky. She looked up at it and thought of her parents — wherever they were.
"Someday," she said softly, "I'll show you what I can do."
And for the first time in a long while, she didn't feel small. She felt ready.