My brother sleeps, hands laced together next to his full cheeks. My mother regards the T.V. as my father changes into his after work clothes. My fellow Dragons bike by after they stop by to see my family. They questioned the flowers in my hair; my brother had placed them there while speaking in a language I only understand parts of. No matter what language a person speaks to you in, there are always some things you can understand. What I am currently understanding is that this is my family, despite only knowing them for three hours, sharing no biological connection, and speaking a different form of verbal communication.