It pains me till this day to think of what happened then.

I had been a fool. Worse than a fool. I had tainted my hands, corrupted my mind. I had been young and rash. They say all teenagers will have their rebellious moments. I wasn't a rebel though, I was much worse. I was a murderer. I had simply took my brother's life away with one single shove. I hadn't put any thoughts into my actions, it was all a moment of folly.

My parents were devastated and broken. They didn't blame me though, Zico had insisted it was an accident and they didn't wish to believe otherwise. I hate myself for not holding it in a little longer. I could have been a little stronger, kept it in a little longer. I could have. But I didn't. I wanted him to know the pain he put me through. Now I feel stupid.

The layers of hatred and disappointment slowly peeled away and I was left bare and vulnerable. All this while I had been living on these emotions. They were the only things I had. I failed to look at life as a larger picture. I missed out on the other joys in life because I was so fixated on that little seedling of hatred planted within me at a young age. I had the choice of plucking it out like a weed, but I let it grow and it flourished. Soon, I couldn't remove that hateful weed within me anymore.

I always thought of him as the one who put all that emotions into me, then I realized it was my own doing. I couldn't blame him and I shouldn't have. He had never done anything intentionally to hurt me and it wasn't his problem for being so smart and popular. I had been a jealous fool and I had done foolish things that I regret with all my heart.

He was innocent all this while but I wished myself to see him as someone who caused me pain, just so that I had a way to explain the hurt to myself. I believed in it hard enough till it slowly became my reality. I had been into a whirlwind of emotions and I hadn't been able to get out of it, not that I really tried. Only after that fatal mistake had I been able to drag myself out of the mess I had drowned myself in. It was too late for realizing all of this now though. 

Honestly, Zico hadn't been a bad brother, there were times where I had very obviously hurt him but yet he never did retaliate. He always kept his silence and told me that it was all right. Even when I had hurt him the most, physically and mentally, he told me that it was alright, that it was an accident. I took me so long to realize that I'd been living in my own world.

The lonely nights that followed were painful. I never thought I would say this but I missed Zico's presence. He wasn't part of the greater moments of my life, but now that he's left, I felt so alone and lost. It hurts to know that the pain and hurt he showed on his face before could have been genuine.

I let my tears flow because there was no one left to watch me cry.