CHAPTER 1 : A dream will always remain a dream.

I was sitting close to the little garden's stair in our old and little house. I could feel the intense

sunlight threathening to burn my pale and fragile skin, but the feeling was promptly appeased as a

delicate and soothing breeze came gently my hair and relaxed figure. It was one of these

moments you could describe as “perfect”, no disturbing sounds apart from the occasional passing

cars or playing kids, no bad weather and no one besides you to divert your attention … Honestly I

was quite reassured when I knew that Taehyung won't be here this weekend, not that I hate him or

anything but this guy just wouldn't stop talking. When we first met I was happy that someone was

finally willing to become friend with me but his habit to never give you a moment of rest is quite

tiring … I feel bad for thinking like this since he's so nice and understanding, and the funny thing is

that I should feel thankful to have someone like him but I guess I can't help it. I'm quite weird am I

not ? Wanting someone to comfort and talk to me but at the same time wanting this person to shut it.

Maybe the reason's why I felt this way was that I'm kinda pissed and envious, envious of people,

envious of Taehyung for being able to do something I couldn't, seeing people do this something so

freely and without limits generated a feeling of distress and longing that was gnawing at my heart

every day, every moment, every second.

Trying to forget the light tingle that started to built up in my throat I looked at the clock and reached

up my back to massage it a little and chase away this tension that started to envelop me. I checked

the number of the page I was reading and closed my novel.

Reaching up my guitar, I shifted my position and opened the notebook that was lying in an

innocuped place of the small stair. Those two items were quite cherished by my dad and I, when I

was 11 he offered them to me as a gift, actually they were his. The gifts weren't out of the ordinary

or particularly expensive, the guitar was clearly used and quite damaged, as for the notebook it was

just that … a notebook, simple and plain. But even with their ruined appareance I wouldn't give

them away, even if I was being offered a fortune. I was just too emotionaly attached to them. Our

family was far from being rich so I grew up not giving much importance to the price and such, the

heart behind the action was enough.

A relaxing music started to escape from the guitar as my fingers were strumming its cords, I was

long used to the painful sensation at the tips of my digits, so I remained unbothered at the way the

cords were irritating my skin. My attention fully on the partition printed on the notebook, I didn't

notice the presence who had just entered the living room.

“Aren't you going to great me Rosie ?” a firm yet gentle voice spoke from behind me. From the

tone used, I could already imagine the smile plastered on this person's face.

Startled, I immediately stopped what I was doing and whirled around to find myself face to face

with my father, Mason Park. Just like I imagined, he was arboring an amused grin.

Annoyed by his intrusion, I gave him a blank face at what he started chuckling wholeheartdly.

Seeing him appearing so happy, I just smiled … But somehow, it wasn't really a smile of joy, if

anything it was more of a bitter smile.

He rose to his feet and headed towards the table in the dining room. His gaze lingered on the many

drawings and colored pencils scattered on the table, he then reached out the only finished artwork

and studied it intently. By the time dad turned finally around, I was already on my feet, standing

close to him. Mason looked at me and said :

“You're really talented, with a little more training I'm sure you will be as good as … as ...”

Mom, I finished mentally for him. He looked down at the drawing and decided against saying

something else about the subject. It's not like abording it was a huge problem before but since

Alice's condition has gotten worse, it became difficult to talk about it, especially for him.

Dad put on a smile and lightly my hair. I resisted the urge to cry at the moment, looking up

at him I bite my lip and tried to not look away from him. Yes, he was smiling at me but this smile

seemed just so forced, I loved him and he equally loved me, I was sure and certain of it, but there

was something off in his expression that only I could notice. His eyes were so sad, tired and

desesperated, it made me sick and weak to look into them. In all those years nothing changed about

him, his face was the same, his height was the same, his personnality and even his smile were

identical to what they used to be but not his eyes, those deep and beautiful eyes that used to be so

assured and give me hope when I was down, those eyes that were now unintentionally ripping my

heart apart.

As if recovering from this depressing moment, Mason started to walk towards the kitchen and took 3 plates out of the buffet. I blinked away my tears and naturally followed him heading towards the cooker. Opening the casserole, I poured stew in the the 3 plates and put one of them in a tray, with a small water bottle and a spoon. Dad didn't stop me since he already knew where I was heading.

I picked up the tray and exited the kitchen. While going upstairs I coudn't help but think again about our current situation. My family, even though being korean, lived for several generations in New Zealand but my parents decided, when I was born, to move in Australia, mainly because my dad's company got bought by a bigger one and all the foreign workers were fired … That's what I was told though, I'm not doubting their words but I'm deep down sure there was an another reason... While in Australia we had a not so luxury life, we were'nt what you would call “poor” but our economic situation was close to it. My sister and I were good students but our relation with others wasn't that great … We sometimes suffered racist remarks from the other kids and bullying for being the teacher “favorites”. By the time our life started to become stable something horrible happenned …

My trail of thoughts was interrupted when I nearly slipped at the last step. I smiled and scolded myself for zoning out, we had already enough problems so I don't think dad will take it well if I broke my leg now … Taking a huge inspiration I headed down the hall of the first floor. Alice's room was at the very end of the hall, our house was in a deplorable state and everything besides the rooms was big. I never really understood this, the masons could have made the kitchen and bedrooms more spacious but instead choosed to waste the space for those really long halls. I remember getting scared at night because of how big it was, trying to prove to dad that the house was haunted and that I saw a ghost. Thinking about those times, I wish I was still the little innocent girl that used to make Mason laugh and didn't care about this hard life.

Reaching my sister's door I knocked 3 times, that was kind of a little code between us since we were in kindergarten. I waited a little until I heard her soft yet tired voice.

“Come in”.

I turned the knob and opened the door. She was sitting by the window and was not moving even the slightest. Making my way in front of her I put the tray on her bed and sitted next to her. She wasn't saying a single word so I took this opportunity to admire her. Alice was beautiful, to say the least. She had, just like me, a really fair complexion, her eyes were big and dark brown. She had long, thick eyelashs and long black hair. Her features were delicate and thin, small pink lips, pointed chin and a high nose, I still remember all the stares and love letters she was getting when we came to Seoul, we didn't complain, when her admirers knew that we were'nt that rich they started to give her free food and gifts to gain her attention. In every society it's true that being pretty has advantages but in Korea it was a whole another level. However this country could be drepressing by times too … Everything moves too fast, people can be cruel with handicaped or depressives people too. Korea didn't really provided help in all cases. Again our family is an exemple … 5 years ago, few months before coming here, mom died in a car accident. The 3 of us were devasted but Alice was the one who let our mother's death get to her. She started to do depression, it was difficult for us at first but it wasn't as severe as now. Last year, because of our financial issues she tried to balance part times jobs with her studies, but between the amount of work, harassement of her colleagues and me her motivation and strong spirit have collapsed. Her crisis were more intense so we had to send her in an hospital. Nowadays she doesn't talk much : Good morning, good night, thank you, she just says the basis. Alice isn't going to college often now, but thanks to a good friend she made in her first year, Seungyoon, she's up to date with her studies. This guy is really nice, he's kinda like Taehyung for me.

The feel of a hand touching mine brought me back to reality. Alice was still focusing her gaze on the sky but her attention was somewhat on me, it's like she was waiting or wanted me to say something, even though I couldn't tell her anything. After a few moments she turned to me and forced a smile No don't do it if you don't want to I wanted to shout at her. I just hated to see people force themselves to do something just to pretend to be okay when it wasn't the case at all. Judging by the soft look she gave me I supposed that she knew how I felt at her acting. But she just brushed it off in a very Alice fashion. It was amusing.

“It looks delicious” she said while eyeing the plate. I just nodded and smiled, it wasn't a gastronomic meal but it was indeed delicious.

Shifting her position she took the tray from her bed and placed it on her lap. She took a piece of bread and soaked it with some soup. Directing the bread towards , Alice blew a little on the food to chase away the heat and took a bite of it. Seeing how her face started to take on some colors I deduced that she must have been very hungry. I observed her the whole time and felt my heart warm at her genuine smile, a smile of satisfaction. Nothing was more heart warming than seeing someone I love feeling good, even if it was something as trivial as being satisfacted because of the way food tasted.

Relaxing a little I looked away from my sister and closed my eyes, lulled by the sound of spoon on plate. The moment the slumber was going to envelop me, Alice said something unexcepted.

“You know, I think you're going to heal soon”.

Her tone was so casual and her words so delusional that it shocked me. My eyes snapped open and I harshly turned towards her. What was she thinking ? Saying something as serious so lightly ?

Feeling my hard gaze on her delicate form she looked at me surprised. But she choosed to ignore me and continued what she was saying.

“I think you're going to heal soon, It's been a week now that I'm dreaming of you, sitted next to me like now, guitar in hands and singing, singing with a beautiful, angelic voice, a voice I never heard before. It was like this voice was your soul reflect it was-”

I grabbed her hand, harder than I intended to, because I just couldn't stand her talking about this, about a subject everyone knew to not mention, at least not in my presence. Being reminded of what I was lacking compared to others was sickening. I just couldn't support this. Also what is that “healing” ? Since when was I “sick” ? The fact that people, even my own sister, still think of it as an illness was horrible … I wasn't going to “heal” soon, not naturally anyway, the problem wasn't “sickness” it was just an anomaly inside of my body … An anomaly with my vocal chords, not mutism or anything.

Once again Alice didn't stop and pronned further.

“You know when we dream a lot of the same thing that means that it's going to happen for real … “

No Alice, it could also mean that you're thinking too much about it, that you're so much haunted by this thought that it is projected in your dreams … That's what a dream is, something that we want to happen so bad but will more likely remains a dream. Why are you doing this to me, to us Alice ? Are you so tormented for me that you can't think of anything else ? Why aren't you having optimists thoughts about yourself ? You're the one who's more likely to heal one day so why are you deluding yourself into thinking that I will have it easier than you … That's crazy.

As if feeling my rage and desesperation, my sister didn't add anything else. She held up the tray to me, trying her best to not look hurt. I hated myself for doing this to her, seeing her trying desesperatly to appear unbothered by the situation reminded me so much of mom … The way her eyes will waver slightly when looking at my face or this insincere smile she will force when talking to me, it was just like mom, and it didn't help that Alice looked a lot like her. I tried to not appear angry at her and nodded while taking the tray from her hands. Standing up and heading towards the door I could hear her mumble a soft and uncertain “Good night, I love you”.

I bite my lip and exited the room. I love you too Alice, if only I could say it out loud to you.

That night I locked myself in my bedroom, but I wasn't able to sleep, unfortunately. Stucked between Dad's and my sister's rooms, I could hear their soft sneezes, it was pleasing to the ears … The softness of the sounds made me think that they were having happy dreams but in my case it was just empty.