I wish my sister would stop screaming.

I tried to discreetly cover my ears with my hands, locking my eyes on the corner of the couch I was sitting on – waiting for my allowance — and humming under my breath as a distraction. She had a voice of a whale, very loud and booming, reverberating through the walls of our home.

What was she even yelling around for? Maybe younger siblings don’t have a solid reason for being a bunch of spoiled brats. She found everything shout-worthy, literally anything that didn’t go her way. If she wasn’t given what she needed – be it shoes, money, or permission to sleep over at her friends’ houses – she’d scream, using a high pitched volume I didn’t even know if I was capable of creating myself.

“Listen, I already gave you twenty five bucks yesterday night, for a cone of ice-cream,” my mom, who was trying to keep her hair safe in her scalp – because my sister do that to you. Make you inch closer to your insanity and cause you to do things that aren’t exactly logical by her absurd tendencies — her eyes wide and expression varying from panic, and discomfort. She had my baby brother perched in her hips, crying his eyes out for his breakfast. “And now you want twenty more? I don’t think I can give you that.”

It wasn’t like my sister cared about my mother’s irritation and discomfort, or how she was trying to whisk so many plates of breakfast while trying to keep my baby brother safe in her arms (she at least drops him from her arms once each three days) while also trying to keep her ears open for my younger sister’s demands. It was maddening, trying to keep up with so many things at once, and also speak like a civilized parent without actually breaking my sister’s bones with a whip or something. I don’t understand why my parents didn’t believe in punishments, not necessarily something severe as hurting us physically, but normal things like confiscating our phones. They never, my Mom and my Dad, implanted any sort of punishment. I admit, sometimes we needed it, but they.. just.. never deem it worthy.

Which was why my sister was screeching her head out.

“You promised to give me forty dollars on top of that twenty five from tomorrow because I told you I wanted to buy a present for my friend!” Seulgi demanded, stomping her feet on the ground to make a statement, her voice coming out extremely loud that I couldn’t stop the wince from leaving my lips. “And you promised me to give me some!”

“Haven’t you already bought a present for your best friend two days ago?” My Mom tried to understand her daughter, a wince taking over her features when she accidentally burned a small part of her finger. I winced myself, wondering why she always had to entertain my annoying siblings like that, like.. she was a machine that didn’t rust at all, or a force of power that didn’t crumble. She never allowed me to help her in the house’s duty too, even if it was a simple chore to clean the desk. Something my large family took advantage of.

My younger brother wasn’t even a delight to hold. He refused all arms that weren’t his Mama, which would explain why she had to drag him with her everywhere.

“That was for my other friend,” My sister huffed, fortunately in a normal voice. However, my wince still showed on my face. Something about her was a constant reason for evoking my irritation. “I want the money for another present.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I only have the allowance of Dani.” My Mom replied back, her eyes never once falling on my demanding sister, looking around the kitchen counters with precision scorching hotly in her eyes. I liked her dedication to be a perfect Mom, although I loathed how she never allowed anyone to help her through it. She believed in herself in a way that made it hard for everyone to catch any weakness from her, and hold it on top of their shoulders as an aid. That was probably the only flaw she possessed, never accepting help.

At the mention of my name, my sister whipped her face to me, an expression of focus crossing her features before she was bouncing towards me, a sweet grin plastered on her face. I grimaced, catching in to her plans right away.

“Dear older sister,” My sister whimpered in an aegyo-driven voice that she had the impression it’d work on thawing my resolve. “I know that you are collecting each and every ounce of your pocket money, so you must have a mini fortune in your piggybank. A small share of allowance won’t be needed from your part, hmm?” She blinked her round and large eyes that everyone drowned her with compliments about, hoping to win over my face with cuteness I didn’t even like.

“It’s not a piggybank,” I murmured in annoyance, taking my finger up to poke her face away from me. Her expression of fake innocence fell to replace her feelings of annoyance. “It’s shaped as a treasure box.”

“I’m pretty sure the shape of your money-box is an interesting topic, but lets get back to the main topic, shall we? Do you really need your allowance?” She retaliated while trying to hide her irritation with my words, and I gave her a look, not believing this girl was four years younger than me. She treated me as if I were lower than her half of the time.

“I’m not giving you my allowance.” I said, in a deadly blank face, and knowing that this was my serious voice, she decided to become extra cute instead of cynical. She knew being rude to me wouldn’t be to her favor. I was a complex person to deal with, naturally, but being rude to me doesn’t ever work with me.

“Please, big sister.” She opted to increase the amount of cuteness I really didn’t give a about, but entertained her tries nonetheless. “I really, really need to buy this cute little dress I’ve seen for my best friend. She’d kill me if I haven’t.”

“I really don’t care.” I sighed, giving her that famous careless look of mine that always got into her toes. She shot me an annoyed look, standing up from her place after knowing it was hopeless to talk to me about this, since it was hard for me to relent over what I thought meant a lot to me. And collecting my pocket money to increase its value so that I could buy something of worth to my soulmate whenever I find him — a fact in which I subconsciously didn’t want to admit — meant a lot to me.

“Sweetheart,” I heard Mom’s feet paddling over to us, Sejong hanging off her body with a mad look in his face, a spoon stuffed in his mouth that probably held the Nutella chocolate that magically managed to always calm his . “Maybe you should ask Minseok for money. He’s already working and I’m pretty sure he’d give you what you needed.”

My Mom would always suggest for her bratty little daughter to ask for Minseok – the eldest in the family, a senior in med school — to give her the money she needed, since he was practically an angel sent from heaven, and didn’t ever refuse a request from her. I never really ask anything from him, because having my family constantly requesting for things from him when he’s a working student was too much on his shoulders. I didn’t need to put an even bigger burden on his shoulders.

“Urgh, I already took a hundred dollar from him a few days ago. He’ll skin me..”

My sister moaned in helplessness, and I found myself droning on the conversation because I didn’t really care for her pity needs. I never find myself similar to my sister, she was a people person and constantly searched for a way to fit in among her group of superficial friends.

We weren’t very rich, we had enough to keep a roof over our heads; and yet she found it in her to befriend high status friends who needed presents of their own length. I couldn’t understand why she needed to match her presents with their money, considering we didn’t have what she needed to give. But she was always like that, she didn’t care about having none, because she’ll fight to have what she desires.

That would have been a nice attribute of hers if she poured it on the right fountain.

A nice shudder sprung up in my palm, and my cold, solid heartbeats started to pound in my chest, figuring out the cause of that feeling in my hand before my head could.

You up yet?

Scribbles of cursive writing flew up in my palm like a magical flare of flames, and as soon as I ate the blue writings with my eyes; they disappeared.

I found myself standing up from the couch, momentarily causing the commotion my mother and my sister were causing to halt; both of them looking at me wondrously. Like usual, I didn’t pay them any of my attention, already walking a few steps away while dragging my school bag in my hands to retrieve a black pen to write back at him, a prominent curve growing on my lips.

Yes