It was so strange, Hana was never ill, but you supposed that it hadn’t been some bacteria that had made her unable to come to over today. There were only two options, or she had had too much to drink and she was still hovering over the toilet, trying her best not to puke out her intestines, or she had taken a guy home and she hadn’t been able to get him out of her bed before the morning, which made that she was having some great morning right now and she would call you in a few hours while crying, telling you she was a failure and you had to go and buy her a pregnancy test even though she was on the pill. By now you knew her so well that you never failed to guess what her next move would be, though there were also these surprising moments she would do something you didn’t expect. So after laying in bed much longer than you were supposed to and after getting dressed into something comfortable, with the expectations that you weren’t supposed to get out of the house today, you were laying on the couch. There was a movie playing which you had seen over a million times but was still able to make you cry each time. Just when you were at your weakest moment the door of the kitchen opened and someone walked in. You curved your head to see who it was and you saw your dad come over to you, his hair looking like a mess and his tie hanging down in a very strange position.

Ever since Ryan had died he had never been the same man, the death of your brother had broken him just as much as it had you. He worked long hours at the office and you didn’t dare to ask him if he was having an affair, but you were two hundred percent convinced that he had. You wondered if your mom knew, and if she did then why the hell she was still here and she just let him do whatever he wanted? Though you weren’t planning on getting involved in your parent’s drama, you already had enough things to deal with yourself. Sometimes you just felt like walking up to him and ask, “How was work? And how was your ?”, but that would be rude. “Sweetie, your mother left these in the fridge. She made them last night and she asked me if you could bring them towards the new neighbors who moved in at the end of the street.” He screamed at you above the sound of the working coffee machine and you lazily lifted your eyes up from the tv screen so you could roll them. Of course, the brownies, how could you have forgotten about those? The thought that a new family had moved in pleased you more than you thought it would. Normally you weren’t really someone who opened up to outsiders, but this year it seemed different. Because new people had no idea who you were and what had happened to your family, and because that meant that all the attention would go to the new kids instead of to the girl with the dead brother. It was a win win situation for you, so you supposed that you could move your and could go and bring them some brownies for the favor they were about to do for you.

“Sure, I’ll leave as soon as this is over.” You said and pointed towards the TV but your father popped his head up over the couch behind you and gave you a firm look. “Just do it now ____________.” He said and pecked the top of your head before walking back into the kitchen as if he hadn’t just given you a command. They’d just have to wait until they were old and grey, sitting in their wheelchair and you would be the one making the commands. “Mom, eat your mush. Dad, don’t you dare touch that.” Though until that time you would just have to deal with the fact that you were the child and you had to do as you were told. Slowly, just so that you could get onto his nerves you searched for the controller, pretending to be absorbed into it so that you could put the movie on pause. How long could it take for you to dump some brownies? It seemed as if your was glued onto the sofa, but eventually you found the energy you needed to get up and walk towards the kitchen. Your father stood beside you, quiet as always, because what the hell was there to say? You could ask him how his day had been, or what he was still planning on doing today, but you’d always get the standard answers in return, so it wasn’t even worth your time asking. “So who are these people?” You asked instead, thinking that maybe it was wiser to talk about something that would actually cause you to get some new and useful information. The sound of a spoon hitting against the sides of a coffee mug filled the room, a loud cling that resounded against the walls. It was always so quiet inside of the house, ever since your brother was gone there wasn’t anyone who loudly sang with the songs that were playing on the radio, or someone who was playing video games in the living room. It was so quiet that sometimes you felt as if you just had to get out of here, because it was just too much to handle.

“The Byun family, I’ve heard they’re nice people.” Your dad said and you looked at him with your eyebrows pulled up, wondering who had told him that. Weren’t all new people getting called nice in the very beginning? Nice, if they called you that way then you weren’t too friendly but you also weren’t one of those annoying neighbors who would never get invited during street barbecues, you were just somewhere in between. If you were nice then it meant that people hadn’t really done the effort to get to know you yet, then you were just another person in the ocean of people, who were nice. “Right.” You muttered as you walked towards the fridge and pulled it open, feeling the cold breeze hit you straight in