“Bad day?” my eyes opened, and I dropped my hands that were covering my face.  

I looked up, a small smile tugged at my cracked lips as I see another smile, much brighter than mine. He took a seat on the other side of the bench, sliding a cup towards me. 

“Thanks,” I said, voice soft and strained, taking a sip of the warm beverage. Hot cocoa. Just what I need in this chilling winter. 

Minutes of silence passed between us. His presence was enough, despite the lack of verbal communication. But it was loud, deafeningly, in my head. 

All that had happened within the first week of getting back to college, the disappointments, the exhaustion, the frustration, the guilt, all of them mixed together, into an unrecognisable and disgusting mess. And being handed a burdening responsibility that could not be rejected, to someone with zero experience in the field was overwhelming. Entering a new environment made me feel so insecure. But that’s not the worst. 

It’s the people. 

It’s always difficult. Humans are so complex. So different. The way they talk, the way they walk, how they eat, how they shower, it differs from one to another. That’s what makes humans so interesting and unique. It makes them, them, and it makes me, me. But it’s because of this uniqueness that burdens me so. I could not understand, and whenever I say something, they could not understand. 

And then, when the ship has hit the iceberg, with water flooding in, causing the ship to sink in deeper and deeper, and when you think that things couldn’t get worse, the anxiety kicks in. Even if you know that there are lifeboats, procedures on how to evacuate safely, it all don’t matter, because you’re mind is so far gone that nothing makes sense. So you sit there, hyperventilating and panicking, trying to find a solution but nothing pops in your mind. And you have others, looking up to you, waiting for instructions. Them too, worried, angry, distrustful, they see me breaking down. 

I feel like I’m drowning. 

“Hey,” 

“Huh?” I blurted, eyes unfocused. His face, worried. His hands on mine, squeezing my wrist gently. It was comforting. I still felt all the confused and mix of all those ugly mess of emotions. He released my wrist and went to my fingers, softly prying my stiff and freezing ones from the polystyrene cup, the lips of the cup mutilated by my fingernails.

‘I didn’t notice,’ I thought to myself. 

Setting the cup aside, my hands still in his, both cold, he scooted closer, sitting now side by side. 

“Tell me,” 

I looked into his eyes. Dark brown orbs meeting mine. I was searching for something, but I didn’t know for what. I was tired and lost. I wanted an answer and I know, talking to him, won’t give me a solution. It won’t give me a definite way out of this mess, created by my own hands. It won’t guarantee anything at all. What was the point of talking? It’s useless.

“Stop,” two hands gripping my shoulder and I looked back into his eyes. Huh, when did I stopped looking at him. 

“I didn’t say anything,” I pointed out, and he chuckled. It wasn’t a happy one, it sounded as if he too was concerned. 

“You’re talking too much up here,” he pointed to his head. “Come on, let it out,” he nudged, eyes shining with what I think is sincerity. Again, I might be wrong. 

“It’s nothing,” I shook my head and looked down into my lap, my coat till my knuckles turn white. 

“Nothing?” He asked, not accusingly, more like a child who was curious. “Is that nothing?” He pointed to my hands. I quickly uncurled and stuff them into my pockets. “What about this?” He touched the creases of my eyebrows. I relaxed my face and put on a wide grin.

“And this?” He introduced the mutilated polystyrene cup. “I was bored,” I said, again with that same smile still plastered on my face, cheeks beginning to hurt. Plastic. Smile so tight, waiting to snap apart.

“Eun Mi-ah,” he said softly. It hurts, to see him like this. To see my brother, who is all bubbly and cheerful, donning this painful expression. All because of me. Because of stupid me who can’t do anything right. Who mess things up, even if it’s something so simple and easy. I just have to complicate things. Just have to drag everyone down. Just have to wipe all the happiness from their life. I’m a bloody parasite. the joy of others, inflicting pain. But at least parasites actually get some benefit, while I wither away even more. 

“Don’t talk like that,” I covered my face, feeling my heart clench at the softness of his voice. Full of love and care. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve his kindness. 

I feel him wrapping his arms around me but I push them away. “No, I’m fine,” I sniffled, voice cracking. And so is the cold demeanour, the sturdy wall that I put up, threatening to collapse. 

“Eun Mi-ah,” I could feel my eyes welling and I turned away from him. Not wanting him to see me like this. Why? I don’t know. 

“Look at me,” he coaxed, voice soft as a cotton, and warm, as if I was sitting in front of a cozy fireplace. And so I did, and the moment his loving eyes met mine, so sincere, that all the walls broke down. And so did the dam. A tear slid down my cheeks, and another. My brows furrowing together, my nose scrunched and head bowed down, I can’t face him. 

“Come here love,” he leaned forward and enveloped me, my small frame fitting in his. All my inhibitions and restraints, holding me back were released. And for the first time in 6 months, I finally broke down. I buried my head into his chest, soaking his light blue padding with salty tears. 

“It’s okay love. It’s alright. I’m here,” sweet words tumbling down his mouth, dripping like honey. And it was so nice. When was the last time I had heard anyone speak like that to me. I tried to speak, but the worlds all fumbled and jumbled that I had no idea what nonsense were coming out of my mouth. I doubt he understood but he sat there, arms still embracing me, patiently waiting and listening. I feel him nod and more soft and loving reassurance from his lips. 

I don’t know how long we sat like that, on the roof of his company building where he worked at, with no one but us. The blue sky over our heads and skyscrapers with their windows looking at us. I felt so exhausted, my mouth felt dry and my head spinning from the intensive ugly bawling. I could feel my whole face puffed up and if I were to look at my reflection, no, I dread to see. 

I felt his lips kissing softly on my head, loving and tender. He released the hug and extended his arms, looking at me, a warm grin. “Better?” I nodded, managing a small smile, sincere. He beamed back at me. “Now tell me, what made my lovely sister cry?” I blushed in embarrassment, and cringed. “Why do you have to sound so cheesy,” I slapped his arm, playfully and he just smiled, that signature gummy smile, a carbon copy of mom’s. 

“It’s hard,” I started, peeking a glance at him. He remained quiet, encouraging me to go on. And so I did. “I wanted to do my best. To give my all, and I did. But, in the end, it all ends up in a big pile of failures and a flaming mess. People get mad, and I confuse everyone with my efforts. It feels as though I’m in a car, driving drunkenly to our destination, with everyone in the backseat feeling anxious. And I don’t know what to do. The more I tried, the bigger the mess I created. Does that even make any sense?” My brother remained silent, pondering over my words. I suddenly felt insecure and small. 

I’m crazy aren’t I? For thinking this way. 

“No, it doesn’t make sense,” 

A pause between us. 

“Oh,” That was all I could mutter. 

Tik, tik

The sound of my nails being picked by my fingers filled the silence. 

“Yea- yeah, you’re right. You’re right, like- like, absolutely right,” I stammered. “It’s crazy right? It’s because I’m not working hard enough,” 

Tik, tik, tik 

“I’m so bloody weird. And stupid. God, I’m glad there’s only one of me, at least no one will have to be like this sorry excuse of a human being,” 

Tik, tik, TIK

“I don’t deserve to say that I work hard. Because I’m probably not. No, I’m not. I don’t have the right to complain. I’m so useless,” 

Tik, TIK, Tik, TIK

“So useless. Bloody useless. Lower than a cockroach. At least even they have some contribution to their race, even to us. Decomposing dead matter so that the world is not deep in trash and garbage. I’m a waste of space, using up our precious oxygen,”

TIK, TIK, TIK, TIK, TIK, TIK 

“Useless, so useless. Stupid idiot. I need to do better. I’m better of dea-“ 

“EUN MI!” 

I flinched, and jumped slightly. My brother’s jaw clenching, eyes wild with rage. Furious. An expression that I have never seen him wear before. It’s frightening. His eyes scanning mine, but slowly, the fire within his eyes died down, and his features soften, back to the one I recognise as my loving brother. 

“It doesn’t make sense, for you to think that you haven’t done enough, when you have done the best you could,” his words, spoken with so much emotion, my shoulders started to ache a bit from him holding too hard. He sounded as if he was about to cry this time. He took a deep breath, and started again, voice soft.

“I of all people know that you always, always give your best in everything you do. And it always amaze me how much dedication and time you spent for others, to help them. I can see that, your friends can see that, but why are you the only one who’s blind?”

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. 

“Sure you make mistakes. We all make mistakes love, but that’s part of growing up. You make mistakes now so that you won’t make them again. So that you know how to handle the situation when it comes again. You are learning still. And that’s a part of life,” 

“But, other people don’t make the stupid mistakes I made,” I interjected, because I felt like he’s just saying this to make me feel better, so that I would stop crying. 

“No, You don’t know that. Where you there when they made their first mistakes?” 

No. Seeming as if he could hear my answer, he nodded in agreement. 

“They are like that because they too have learnt from their mistakes. So, it’s alright for you to fall, as long as you get back up. It’s alright to fail. It’s alright to make a mess. As long as you take responsibility for your actions, and vow to become better, to strive better. Thinking and overthinking about your past mistakes will stain your vision of the coming situations. You won’t be able to think clearly and if you succumb to them, you might be making the same mistakes,” 

“Then, what should I do?” I asked him, sincerely and really wanting to have an answer. He seems glad for my question. 

“To never give up. To reflect and learn from your past mistakes instead of dwelling on them, and on the what ifs. To be patient and swallow your pride, ask for forgiveness if you did wrong and do your best to not repeat them. Most importantly,” he leaned forward and booped my nose. 

“Learn to love yourself. I would be willing to let you borrow my eyes so that you can see and appreciate, this beautiful, loving and caring little sister of mine,” again grinning like a fool at that statement and hugged me, squeezing me tenderly. I reciprocated his love. 

“I love you,” he said and kissed the top of my head. 

A smile etched on my face, stretching from ear to ear. I could feel my insides warming and the chilly winter forgotten. “I love you too,”