I stepped into my Brother's room and closed the door, letting the darkness swallow me whole. I could've turned on the lights, but I didn't. It was an unspoken rule he abided by, so even though he wasn't here, I chose to follow it.
Even so, a glimmer of soft blue moonlight shone through the cracks of his curtains, making it easy to navigate through the dark.
My room was right next to his, yet mine was noticeably cooler. I never noticed it until now, but his room felt almost… neutral, like there wasn't anything in it except dull space.
I decided to take a quick look around his room. I'd barged in here countless times—to annoy him, or to sleep in his bed when he was gone—but I'd never actually explored.
After a few seconds, the exploration came to an end. I didn't know what else I was expecting, but his room was unusually empty. It held only the essentials— a desk, chair, PC, fan, and bed. Aside from the two pictures of him as a kid hung on the walls that Mom insisted on keeping, his room was completely spotless.
His room was almost like a blank sheet of paper—just empty. Or at least, that was how it seemed at first... until I opened his closet. Inside was what I expected—clothes, pants, and socks. But in the far corner, surrounded in shadows… was a faint glimmer.
I slowly reached out to it.
It was soft to the touch, but whatever was catching the light felt small, smooth, and hard. I squinted, struggling to make it out.
After a few seconds with no progress, I gave a resigned sigh and brought it under the moonlight, revealing its true form.
I shuddered. His once neutral room now felt cold on my skin, but warm in my chest. The warmth spread through my body until it spilled out from my eyes.
I parted my trembling lips, the words coming in a shaky whimper.
"You're such… a stupid Big Brother!"
In my hands was a small, white duck plushie I won at the arcade a month ago. The hard object catching the light was its black, beady eye. It was supposed to be a stupid prank. I figured he'd throw it away after the laugh. And yet…
My hands gently wrapped around the plushie as I pressed it against my forehead.
"Why… did you keep this...?"
My Brother's room was devoid of any personal belongings. Not a single one here did he decide to keep of his own free will. That is... except for this stupid duck.
That was all I needed to see.
"I'm sorry… Big Brother…"
My legs gave out, and I fell onto his bed. A faint trace of warmth lingered on his cheeks, but it bit into my skin like the cold. Still, I didn't turn away. I accepted it with all my heart.
I grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around my body, curling into a ball as small and vulnerable as I could.
Pressing the duck against my forehead, I closed my eyes, clinging to its soft exterior.
"Why… did things have to become like this?"
It was cruel. It was unfair. I wanted to scream. To cry. To lash out. But most of all…
I want to apologize.
But at the same time… I knew I didn't have the right. I was the one who pushed him away. What audacity would I need to have to beg for his forgiveness? If I were in his shoes, I wouldn't forgive me either.
Then… what am I supposed to do?
I gripped the duck tighter, as if I could squeeze an answer out of it.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do, but I do know two things...
I took a deep breath.
The first… I loathe my Brother more than anything and anyone in this world.
My consciousness tugged at me, but I held on just long enough to finish the thought.
The second, there's no one I love more than him. So….
My consciousness began slipping away, and my world gradually faded to black. Still, an echo of my own voice reached my ears.
I'll do both.
***
It was the last day of first grade. Mom was in the middle of talking to the teacher as she picked us up from school.
Suddenly, she covered her mouth and let out three violent coughs.
"What's wrong?! Are you okay?" the teacher asked with a look of concern.
Mom shook her head and offered her usual angelic smile.
"Apologies. I'm just getting over a fever, you see. Please don't pay it any mind," she replied gracefully, as if nothing had happened in the first place.
The teacher stiffened at the abrupt shift, but quickly nodded and continued the conversation.
'I'm just getting over a cold,' Mom said, except she'd been like this for as long as I could remember. She should have been staying home, but she always came out to pick us up.
I used to wonder why Dad couldn't instead, but Mom always said he was busy working. I didn't know why work stopped him from coming, and if that meant work was more important than us—but whenever I asked, he got mad and hit me, so I stopped asking.
"Anyway," the teacher said, continuing the conversation. "Here it is. Lily's year-end report card."
The teacher handed Mom a large beige envelope. Mom took it carefully and put it in her purse. It was the second one of these envelopes she'd received today.
Mom gave the teacher a quiet thanks and a small bow.
"Well, it's time for me to get going now. Thank you for teaching my Daughter this year."
"There's no need. If anything, I should be thanking you. She was an excellent student."
Mom gave a proud giggle before turning away, grabbing Big Brother and me by the hands, and walking us home.
As we walked along the sidewalk, I noticed other kids our age in the field, running around with nothing but laughter.
Seeing that, a knot formed in my chest.
I want to do that, too.
But I lowered my head, keeping my eyes to the ground.
There was no point in asking Mom—she always said no—and no point in looking at what I couldn't get, either.
As we passed the play structure, the laughter grew louder. I shut my eyes, trying to ignore the joy of the other children. It was just too much to look at.
Then, a familiar loud, yet bright voice called out.
"Mom, can Lily and I go play at the playground?"
My eyes shot open, and I turned to the voice.
There, Big Brother was looking up at Mom with his usual radiant smile. Even though he had to have known the answer, his smile never wavered.
Mom let out a small sigh and shook her head.
"Sorry, but I can't let you do that, Son. I have to go home and prepare dinner before Dad comes home."
"Then why don't you go home and let Lily and me play here? The other kids aren't being watched by their parents," he asked innocently.
I could only watch wide-eyed as he continued to plead with Mom.
Why… is he doing this?
As I wondered that, his gaze shifted from Mom and met mine for a split second. In that moment, his smile shone even brighter.
That was when everything clicked, and I couldn't help but give him my whole-hearted silent support.
Y-you can do this, Big Brother!
He gave me a small nod and shifted his gaze back to Mom. Seeing this, Mom's smile grew slightly wider.
"Ohh, I see how it is," she exclaimed with a happy, soothing voice. "You're doing this because you think Lily wants to play, isn't that right?"
I tensed, then craned my neck up. Mom had turned her attention from Big Brother to me. She had the same expression as she had earlier, yet I couldn't help but feel something heavy—almost eerie behind her face.
Mom's lips parted, and she spoke with a grace that left no room for argument.
"So, do you want to play, Lily?"
I flinched.
Of course, I wanted to play. There was nothing more I wanted than this in the moment. And yet, the words couldn't—no, refused to come out.
All I could say was...
"N-no, it's fine. We can go home."
Mom tilted her head, her grip loosening. "Are you sure? You can leave if you want."
A lump formed in my throat, but I pushed the words from my chest.
"Y-yes. I'm sure."
Mom gave me a pleased nod.
"Okay, if you say so. Then, let's keep moving."
She walked ahead, pulling Big Brother and me along.
I bit my lower lip, fighting down the emotions in my chest.
I-it's better this way.
Dad has to eat, after all.
We don't want him getting mad.
And Mom just doesn't want us to get hurt.
So… it's fine.
No matter how hard I reasoned with myself, I couldn't pry my eyes from the children.
It's… better this way–
Suddenly, someone tugged on my left sleeve. I turned. Big Brother was standing right beside me with not even a single crease of disappointment on his face.
He leaned in close, cupped his hand around my ears and whispered, "It's okay. We can just play when we get home, okay?"
I… I can play?
It was such a simple thing, yet I couldn't help but want to burst with excitement upon hearing it. It was everything I ever wanted.
And yet... I couldn't say anything. Not because the words refused to come, but because there were so many things I wanted to say.
In the end, all I could give him was an embarrassed nod.
Seeing that, Big Brother ruffled my hair happily. "Great! Then, let's hurry home, okay?"
"Yeah," I muttered under my breath.
I didn't look at the kids for the rest of the walk. Instead, I kept my gaze fixed forward—toward where home was.