Since they day father left, I lost my mother too. The beautiful smile that she always shared with the world every day, her motherly, sincere actions that were meant to be with her, all disappeared right after he left. I lost the person who taught me to see beauty, to love, the last person whom I could rely on. No, not the person. The soul. Losing the soul of an existing person was so painful to me that it often felt like it would have been better if I had lost the person itself. She was there, but her soul wasn’t. Her gaze was blank, her actions were undefined. Her words were not understandable. Then there, at the age of four, I understood pain.

When one day she got herself dressed for an event, I knew she wasn’t completely lost. Deep down inside that silent body there was still a soul, a soul that was aware of its surroundings. I went to search for her year planner, and there it was written on the column of that day: a birthday party.

We went to the orphanage that day with my hands hanging onto my mother’s. Her hand wouldn’t hold mine, so I had to grip her arm. Still in her lost self, we participated in the birthday party. I played with the invited kids and the orphans, and she sat on a chair, staring into space. She moved her position once in a while, staring at different corners of the room, at different groups of people. Sometimes she would look at me, or so I thought, and then divert her attention back to some other people. Not once did she stand up from her chair, nor did she talk to anybody.

Until one second, a miracle happened.

I still remembered even until now how she went up and approached a kid sitting on one corner. That kid resembled her: he hadn’t gotten up from his chair since the party began, and I didn’t see him talk to anybody. But one thing was different from him: he had a decent stare.

From far away, I saw her look at him. I saw it, that for the first time in all these months, she placed her sight onto something certain. Something tangible. She didn’t just look, she saw. And the biggest miracle that happened was that after months and months of not saying a word, she finally spoke.

But her first words were spoken to someone else.

What she did got me stoned there. She finally spoke and that was something I should have been glad and relieved about, but a part of me was heartbroken because it wasn’t me whom she spoke to. It wasn’t me who made her speak; it wasn’t me who made her come back.

Those eyes of the boy who made the miracle happen suddenly moved their attention to me, and only then I realized I had been watching all their moves all along. He caught my eyes and I caught a glimpse of a determined, thoughtful, intense, solemn, forceful beam coming from his marble-like eyes, and I just couldn’t, couldn't look away. They were so powerful.

I got startled.

My mother kept talking but I could see that that boy was of no interest in her anymore. Instead, he went approaching me. I, who was standing at the other end of the room, didn’t move an inch and let him come closer. This boy right there was someone I was supposed to get mad at—someone who had stolen my mother’s affection. But another side of me that was thankful of what he did resisted me from doing anything impudent. I couldn’t get mad anyway. It wasn't that I didn't want to, I couldn't. It was as if there was a force around him that simply wouldn’t let me do so.

He raised his right hand, and my heart sensed fear.

“Tao.” he said. “Let’s play.”

Later that day, my mother told me what she saw, for the very first time in all these months. Having my anger over what she did already overlapped by the feeling of relief that she had come back, I just stayed there and listened. “Kris, Dear,” she said. “That boy’s eyes, they…” she stopped there for a while, “…they are your father’s.”

***

“What did you just say?!” I tried to take a deep breath, but my body was too startled that it didn’t even care about breathing. “You’re not—you—you can’t be my father! You’re Tao and you’re my brother and you’ll always be! What kind of demon just—”

“Kris.”

“—shut it okay my father is dead!”

“KRIS!”

My chest and my shoulders were moving up and down so rapidly that I felt I would choke at any minute. Mother said my name out loud and I knew I should shut up. Tao was still standing there by us, his eyes frightened by what I had just screamed out loud.

“Calm down,” mother rubbed my back. “Let him explain, okay.”

A chilly silence came in and my mother walked me to the sofa and helped me sit down. Tao followed us and sat on the sofa in front of us, the water from the rain on his face had changed shift with drops of sweat, somehow telling me that he was trying to be calm, too.

“I left that day to buy fish for the pond in the backyard,” he started. “You were not even four years old that day. I went out perfectly fine, no bad feelings at all, and then the other second I realized a car was speeding fast towards me. Before I could do anything, it was already too late,”

It was hard for me to even start listening, since everything that he said seemed so unreal. But it was Tao who was talking; and never once had he been so open to us, so when he continued, I had a feeling that what he was talking about might as well be true.

Although still, it sounded so unreal.

I sniffed.

“Then a strange feeling came,” he paused there for quite a while, his eyes squinted a little. “I woke up, sort of, to a weird room, where everything was black. The wall, the ceiling, the floor… everything was so black that I couldn’t even identify which was which. The only thing I was certain of… was that… was that I didn't have my feet on the ground. As if there was no gravity. Then I realized where I woke up to,” he stopped and chuckled, then continued, “I was dead.”

Mother held onto my hand.

“It was a… it was a really mixed, horrible feeling. I felt so frustrated, so mad, so disappointed in myself. I knew it; it was the end. It was already the end for me before I even realized it. There was no turning point anymore. I was dead. I was separated from the world, from the two of you, from what I have done…” the look in his eyes weakened, his sight moved downwards and he took a deep breath. “…and from what I haven’t done.”

Then he looked up, his gaze was placed right at my mother, and all I could see from his eyes was pain.

“I promised you something,” he said. “To raise Kris together. To make sure he becomes a successful person. To guide him in the right direction; to show him the right path. To be able to be there to answer his questions, to see his grades, to come to school meetings, school events, to be able to see him graduate, see him work…” the tone of his voice deepened and I knew it was tears. He just had to stop for a while. “…to grow old together.”

My mother looked away. Her grip around my hand weakened and her fingers trembled, so I held them tight.

Then he snickered—a snicker that sounded nothing like Tao’s. “I… I still remember how you were wearing a red and grey striped polo shirt that day I left you.” He looked into my eyes. “You were so small, so young, so innocent… and when I realized that was the last time I would ever see you again, I felt as if something really, really heavy had just been dropped to the bottom of my heart,”

Once more he caught my eyes and I couldn’t look away, but this time it was a completely different feeling. I couldn’t look away not because of the power of his gaze, or because of anger; I remembered those eyes. I remembered the owner of those eyes and how he had looked at me this way. It was not Tao. Then I felt it—everything felt as if it was coming back to me.

“To raise you a good man was a vow,” his gaze softened, “and I broke it.”

I died a little inside.

“But then something else happened. In that weird black room I then heard voices. Someone was talking to me, a rather deep, scary, powerful voice, and once that voice had started talking my mouth couldn’t speak a word.” He recalled. “He told me something about a second chance, and although I remember perfectly that I didn’t say a word to reply to him, he said he had heard my heart say yes.”

My mom took away her hand from mine and rubbed her eyes.

“So then one day I woke up,” he said, “in a weird room with a lot of sleeping kids, and when I went to the bathroom to wash my face, I then understood what that voice was talking about. I had my second chance.”

“And you…” I half whispered, “…and you woke up in Tao’s body.”

He nodded. “I just knew from that day that I had to find the two of you, but I didn’t know where to go. Then happened that destiny was there to help me out,”

I could hear mother take a deep breath. “Then that’s why… that’s why your body was never found.” She said, her voice was shaking.

Tao—or father—smiled so softly and looked at her. “Seeing you grow old and not letting you know was so painful,” he said, “but I shall not reveal, till the promise is fulfilled,”

I stumbled upon the last few words. “Is it?”

He ped his jacket and took something from its inside pocket—an envelope. He handed it over to me and I saw that it had been opened. I took a paper out of it and realized what it was.

“But… but this is the scholarship,”

“Exactly,” he smiled. “And you’re accepted.”

Rolls of tears had streamed down my face, and without even being aware of what I was doing, I was already hugging the two of them. That scholarship was all I had always wanted. My dream university, my dream career, dream way of life…

Then I knew it.

“But you’re staying with us, right?” I said.

He shook his head. “It is all fulfilled;” he smiled, “now it’s your turn to make your mother happy.”

I dropped the letter and it fell on the floor. “But you—but—my father might have passed away, but you’re Tao!” water started filling my eyes again, but for a different reason. “You’re my brother and you are always going to stay!”

“Tao was God’s representative to give me a second chance,” he said. “His job is done, and he might as well be happy by God’s side.”

Now it wasn’t only father that I was going to lose again, it was Tao as well.

Mother hung onto my arm. “Let him go,” she whispered to me. “Let him go and be happy—let him get what he deserves,”

I closed my eyes and bent my head down; my teeth were biting my bottom lip. Let him go, she said. I could let father go, I had done it before, but not Tao. I couldn’t bear letting him go, I couldn’t afford to do it. So when he approached to hug me, I hugged him back so tightly, perceiving the reminiscence of Tao in that body. It calmed me down.

“Once you… once you’ve arrived there,” I said, “send my regards to Tao,”

“Don’t worry,” he replied, comfortingly, not pulling away. I felt mother’s hand wrapping the both of us, and we stayed together in silence.

Then I opened my eyes, and all I had in my embrace was mother.

He was gone.

They were gone, and I had let them go.

A big piece in my life had been taken away, but a bigger piece had been added. I finally understood, and even at the very last moment, Tao, or father, still taught me something important. They taught me to accept, to have faith, to believe that those who love you won’t ever let you down. That life is all about accepting, and accepting is loving.

I would remember the day Tao had asked me about death, and how he wished I wouldn’t go first. I still remembered how he had white gravel in his hand when he said that, and he threw it perfectly into the pond. That sent me shivers once in a while. Although I didn't know, and didn't want to know if the gravel he threw really made his wish come true or it was just merely a coincidence, it taught me one thing: to keep believing in wishes.

I would go home from the university that I would soon leave to go for the master degree I applied a scholarship for. I would go home as frequently as possible to visit mother, to see her grow old. As long as I still could. To love the only one I had left. I would go to the backyard and feed the fish, clean the pond, and throw gravel. Black ones. White ones. I would lie down with mother next to the pond, next to the only thing I had left to remember Tao and father. To reminisce the days with them.

Then I remembered what father told me that day I was a little kid, before he left. “I’ll come back,” he said.

UPDATED RIGHT AWAY BECAUSE IVE SUBMITTED MY GEO ESSAY. LIKE A BOSS. WITH MUCH LOVE.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked it. :-) The idea just flew so smoothly that I spent hours after finishing my essay to finish this story right away (or else I'd be starting another essay again. No essay, no life). I've been having back pains from typing in front of the computer for such a long time, but for the sake of EXO boys,  I................... no I love my back more. Comment and keep reading ma storiesss, don't be a frikkin silent reader--commenting costs you nothing anyway, it earns you more karma! :-)

Mucho amor (if that's even right),

Fincht