Disclaimer: This is all fictional, I have never experienced this before so I hope I can convey the right feelings to my readers :)

Read my author's note at the end please!

The day before Christmas.

A happy day for many, but a sad day for me.

I decided to go to the mall.

The Christmas tree outside of the mall was beautiful. It was bright and colorful, giving off a happy vibe.

Too bad I’m not feeling it.

I see Christmas themed items being sold at shops. Even my Starbucks cup had Santa Claus on it.

I took a sip of my coffee in an attempt to keep myself warm.

The weather was even colder than usual.

Or was it just me? Maybe.

I sighed to myself as I decided to walk home instead of taking the bus.

I strolled through the park, coffee finished long time ago. I put my hands into my coat’s pocket.

I see children playing in the snow together, making snow angels and building snowmen.

I remember I used to do these kinds of things with my sister.

Christmas used to be my favorite holiday. I loved how my family used to take time to decorate our tree together. I loved how our relatives would get together because we hardly did. I loved exchanging presents under the Christmas tree.

I feel bad for being this way.

I can’t help but feel like crap every time on Christmas Eve.

I’m thankful, for having such a supportive girlfriend.

I knew how girlfriends wanted to be with their boyfriends on Christmas Eve, spending the night alone together, just cuddling and watching reruns of old christmas movies.

The 3 years we had been together, I never spent it with her before.

I bought her a present as an apology. I was going over to her house later on.

I went home to get ready.

Jong In, try to be happy, for her sake.

I had an older sister.

I was very close with my sister.  She doted on me; bought me what I wanted, helped me with my homework, and confronted the people who bullied me. She would wipe my tears when I fell down from my bike.

She was much older than me. 11 years to be exact.

Let’s just say, I was a mistake.

I caught her smoking a few times on the balcony when I was 6.

“Noona! You promised me you would stop! You know what happens to smokers! They all die! I don’t want you to die!”

All she did was laugh. “I’m trying, Jong In. It’s not that easy to quit. Just don’t tell umma and appa, okay?”

“Only if you stop. Then I won’t.”

She would then put out her cigarette and follow me back into the house to watch television with me.

My parents used to tell me that smoking was bad. My mother never knew her father. He died of lung cancer a few months before my mother was born. My grandmother was a strong person. She survived, taking care of her three children singlehandedly.

"Lung cancer kills, so don’t smoke." Was what I was always told.

I never knew why my sister picked up smoking. Whenever I asked her about it, she just told me the same thing.

“I am sad, Jong In-ah.”

Every time, my reaction would be the same. I would go up to her and hug her. “Noona, my hugs will make you feel better. Don’t be sad anymore.”

It became worst when I was in middle school. I was surprised how my parents never noticed anything. I guess it was because of work and the constant travelling.

My sister started coming home late, but no later than my parents.

She smelled like smoke. She coughed a lot.

She had multiple piercings and had a tattoo that I only found out a few months later.

Sometimes, she would come home having scratches on her face or arms.

She looked older than her age. She had dark eye circles and eye bags.

When she was home, she would spend about an hour on the balcony.

I knew what she was doing.

“Jong In-ah. If you love me, you won’t stop me from doing the things I want and like right? Don’t tell umma and appa.”

And all I could do was nod.

My sister showed me her tattoo once. It was of a caged bird.

I asked my sister what her tattoo symbolized.

“Jong In-ah. Sometimes umma and appa force me to do things I don’t like. They force me to study and work. They want me to be like them- workaholics. Do you know what that means, Jong In?”

I shook my head.

“It means all work and no play. That doesn’t seem fun right? If I made you stay in school to study and I don’t let you play, you wouldn’t be happy right?”

“Of course! I love studying, but I love playing even more.” I answered her proudly.

“My Jong Innie is so smart. I find myself very alike to a caged bird. A caged bird has no freedom. All it does is wait for the day it can finally be released. And most of the time, that won’t happen. They just, die. In that cramped space.”

“But noona, you go out all the time. That’s freedom, isn’t it?” I pointed out.

“It’s not the same. Umma and appa don’t know that I go out all the time. I’m sorry I make you lie every time they call home. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay noona. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I had to lie to my parents whenever they called home to check on us.

I would say my sister is studying in her room and too busy to talk but in actual fact, she was outside.

One night, I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know why. I just tossed and turned in my bed.

I heard 2 knocks on my door. “Jong In-ah~ Are you asleep?” I heard my sister’s voice.

My room was right next to my sister’s. Our rooms were special, we had connected doors.

Was I hearing things?

The door I shared with my sister opened and she came in holding her teddy bear.

I sat up on my bed and looked at her quizzically.

“Jong In-ah. I can’t sleep. Mind I room with you tonight? Just like old times?” She asked.

“Sure. You’re welcome to sleep with me anytime noona.” I made room for her on my single bed and she hugged me.

“Jong In-ah. You know that I love you right?”

“Of course! You tell me that all the time. It’s hard to miss you know.”

She chuckled. “Just wanted to remind you.”

“I love you too, noona.”

I slept peacefully that night.

It was another night when my parents were in China or something. I didn’t know myself.

I heard constant coughing and I grew worried. I went into my sister’s room.

I found her bathroom door open and I peeked in.

I saw blood drops leading to where my sister was