The story first began when I was in Year 9; I was only fifteen at the time. Before the first semester came around my parent brought the son of one of their university friend to stay with the family so she could finalize her divorce details without having to worry of anything else. Her husband’s French but this son is from her previous marriage with a Chinese. Despite this, this boy’s appearance’s somewhat foreign; perhaps due to the fact he was born and grew up in a far-away country known as Canada.

He was eighteen that year, in his last year of high school when he came into the home unannounced with Dad. My first instinct immediately went to his height; he was definitely in the late 180’s. Slowly I moved on to his face and my, what finely structured features he had and he owned a pair of great deep eyes, yes, they were beautiful, sharp and nicely crafted by the hands of God. If I had to name one imperfection at the time of his appearance, it would be his mouth, or to be exact – the shape of his lips; they look abused and swollen-like.  I later learnt that an imperfection makes one unique and one of a kind and the cause of his lip shape were due to the braces he had when he was in middle school.

Dad was surprisingly warm that day and introduced us warmly, “Faith, this is the older brother I’ve always told you about, Kris. He’s older than you by a few years so treat him with respect.” Then he continued, “Kris, as you know this is my daughter, Faith. You probably remember playing with her when she was just a baby.”  While he was doing all the introductions he wavered around the house, “from now on treat this as your home.”

Frankly, if I had a choice then I wouldn’t welcome him at all. He made me feel anxious. The moment he walked in I knew he would barge into my life just like the way he made his way into my home.

He simply smiled at me after listening to Dad’s summaries, soon his eyes shifted elsewhere, anywhere but on me. He carried a huge backpack and it looked beyond heavy. Mum complained to Dad about not being a good host, “why didn’t you help to carry it?” Between Dad and Kris they exchanged a secret glance, “Why would he need my help? He’s already a man himself.”

He was taken into the study directly opposite to my room, there we provided him with a newly setup bunk bed. If we left our doors opened we can both peak into a small corner of each other’s worlds due to the position of our rooms. I was extremely upset over this: a stranger is stepping into my property, even more, claiming a piece of land as his own. Now however, seeing him with his large bag entering into the study my face suddenly burns of hotness. I felt a sweet pool of liquid piercing through my heart, making it beat faster than ever.